The Zenith
by Blackcross-Taylor
Summary: After their capture by the mysterious Irenicus, Fritha and her companions find themselves in the lands of Amn with a friend to rescue and a debt to repay. Completed
1. Sundered

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

This is the sequel to my first story, Sunrise, though it will make sense as a stand-alone work.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**The Zenith **

**Sundered**

Fritha raced along the dungeon passage, Imoen's hand tight in her own as she dragged her friend with her, the sounds of Minsc and Jaheira behind barely audible over the fractured roar of the stonework that crumbled about them. The light at the end was growing brighter by the second and she could even see shapes moving about outside, every muscle screaming as she quickened her pace.

_Just a few more yards… _

And suddenly they were out, the sunlight so bright, for a moment she was blinded, crouching in the tunnel mouth as explosions of magic burst around them, the air thick with dust. Blinking furiously, her eyes adjusted and she stared out at a huge tiered arena, for one awful moment wondering whether they had not been captured as slaves for the gladiator pits, until she saw the number of people running about below them, screaming. The section of steps they were on had collapsed with the tunnel, leaving only uneven rubble, the magical blasts that filled the air dislodging yet more stone and through the dust she could make out a familiar form: Jon Irenicus. The mage who had arranged for their capture, murdered her friends and tortured her for days on end.

His attention, though, was currently occupied with fighting the unknown assailants whose attack on his dungeon had served to distract from their escape, and Fritha straightened, beckoning the others to follow as she set off, hoping to lose themselves in the chaos. But at that moment, the last one fell and Irenicus whirled as though he had always known of their presence. Fritha froze as he saw them, his voice taking her back to the sunless cage she was barely hours away from.

'So you have escaped, godchild,' he confirmed, more interested than angry, narrowed green eyes sweeping over them with an appraising look. 'You are more resourceful than I thought. This will require much study.'

Next to her, Imoen stepped forward, her eyes wide and blazing as she raised a trembling hand towards him.

'You're not going to torture us any longer!' she screamed, the energy of her magic as she suddenly attacked singeing Fritha's hair as she tried to pull her back.

'Imoen, no!'

But her magics barely touched him, and they could only watch, horrified, as the mage did nothing more than laugh.

'It is a matter in which you have no say, godchild.'

'Go! Run!' Fritha screamed, giving the girl a shove, but Imoen just stood, unable to tear her eyes away from him and Fritha felt an icy dread fill her as the shimmering blue dust of teleportation began to gather between his palms.

_Please, gods, not again, don't let him take me again…_

'This is an unsanctioned use of magical energy!'

Flashes of light all around them and Fritha glanced about to find a half dozen men, their faces obscured by deep hoods, appearing from thin air to surround them. 'Cease your casting and come with us!'

Suddenly, she could hardly stand, hardly breathe, the relief that flooded her. The mages were taking him; they were saved! But Irenicus clearly did not think so, merely throwing the speaker a contemptuous look.

'Your pathetic magics are useless against me.'

'We may fall but our numbers are many. You will be overwhelmed.'

Irenicus eyed those about him coldly, calculating the odds when-

'Enough! You may take me, but you will take the girl as well.'

Fritha flinched, her body tensed and ready before she suddenly understood just whom he meant. Imoen seemed to realise the instant she did, a tortured whimper rising in her throat, her eyes fixed unblinking on Irenicus.

'No… no, I've done nothing wrong!'

But the hooded mage shook his head, unmoved. 'You were involved in illegal use of magic. By order of the Cowled Wizards, you shall come with us.'

'Imoen!' Fritha screamed, fighting to reach her, but it was too late and the girl whirled back to them just in time for Fritha to see her own fear reflected in those wide green eyes, before light engulfed her and she was gone.

Fritha stood, clouds of dust still hanging in the air about her, Jaheira and Minsc behind her and just as silent, as though no one could believe it had happened. Beneath ground, everything had seemed like some awful dream, horrific and unreal. But stood now under the glare of a mid-morning sun the reality of all it hit her. Fritha sank heavily on the stone steps beside her feeling strangely numb. Had it truly been mere days ago that they had all left Baldur's Gate together, warmed with friendship and their own triumph? Now Imoen was taken, and Dynaheir and Khalid…

_Oh gods…_

She dropped her head into her hands, tears trickling down her face as she fought hard to quell the howl of misery that rose in her. Listening to Minsc's stricken account of Dynaheir's murder. Discovering the corpse of Khalid, torn and bloodied, Jaheira hysterical at the sight. And Imoen. She had barely recognised the girl, so panicked and chattering on and on, of death and blood and bone.

A sudden hopeless guilt crept over her. This was all her fault. Irenicus had only captured them because of her, because of what she was…

She had planned to head east after they'd left Baldur's Gate, leave the chaos that Sarevok and the Iron Throne had wrought far behind her. But she had wanted to visit Candlekeep first, so desperate to make her peace with them after last time, to see Beth and everyone again. If only she had gone east as planned and just left her friends to travel south alone, then they would all still be alive!

_And you would still be a prisoner…_

She would have liked to say it would be worth it; that she would have gladly sacrificed herself to save the others. But the mere idea of another moment in that cage, trapped in the darkness just waiting to hear the echo of his approaching footsteps, and that noble thought died there. Fritha shook herself, her cowardice angering her. She could not change the past; what was done, was done. But she would let no one else suffer for her selfishness. She would be strong, had to be strong, for Jaheira and Minsc.

They had to get Imoen back.

Fritha stood slowly, rolling her shoulders as though squaring up to the world before turning to the two behind her. The air was clear by now, the dust settling to send Jaheira's short hair a salt and pepper grey and suddenly aging her a lifetime, the woman's eyes doing little to lift the effect.

'Do you know where we are?'

'No! Why on Toril would I?' the druid snapped, returning her gaze to the rubble, arms wrapped about herself as though cold.

Fritha sighed, the woman's reaction so expected she could not even muster enough effort to be offended, glancing briefly to Minsc to confirm he too had no clue, before adjusting her bag and ambling loosely down the steps to find someone who did. The closest person was a man who appeared to be running one of the nearby stalls, though he was taking a break at the moment, examining the piled rubble with something close to awe.

'Excuse me?' she called, still absently brushing dust from her hair and clothes in a half-hearted attempt to look personable, 'Can you tell me where we are?'

He glanced up, eyes flitting nervously from her to the destruction before he finally found his voice.

'Where? Why we're in Waukeen's Promenade,' he answered, adding when she persisted to look confused, 'in Athkatla… in Amn.'

Fritha nodded slowly, taking all this in. 'Is it still Eleasias?'

He stared at her, taking his time in the answering as though still trying to work out what was wrong.

'Aye miss, but late on in the season.'

She thanked the man and he nodded, seeming happy the conversation was over and hurrying back to his stall as she returned to her friends. They had left Baldur's Gate just after midsummer, attacked and captured when barely three days from the city, so with the time it would have taken to transport them there, they had been prisoners for just over a tenday. She shuddered, unable to keep her mind away from that wretched cage for long. Just laid in the darkness for the long hours between experiments with only the singing of her own mind to distract her from the slow ebb of time.

_Focus…_

'We're in Athkatla,' she explained, as city guards began to gather at the foot of the rubble and Fritha suddenly realised that there was the last place they should be. 'Come on, we'll find an inn and consider our next move.'

Fritha set off down the steps again and wordlessly they followed.

But as unruffled as she had been with the others, it was hard to reconcile herself with the fact she was now over two hundred miles south of where they had last been; a different city, a different _country_. The promenade about them was filled with shops, stalls lining the tiered walls stretching up to a clear arc of sky. It was obviously the economic centre of a city much larger that Baldur's Gate and under normal circumstances, Fritha would have been fascinated by the myriad of people and goods from all over Faerûn. But little seemed to catch her attention as she passed, the world an unreal blur of brightly coloured canopies.

The watchful calm the sudden appearance of the Cowled Wizards had affected had dissipated by now, and they moved unheeded through the bustle, the air ringing with the cries of merchants, the heavy smell of the masses not affecting her as it had in the Gate. Not a good sign, she thought dully, considering a pale grimy hand and paying for her momentary lapse in concentration as something hit her legs. She jumped, a hand already halfway to her hilt before she realised it was just a child, his small hands covering his face as he sobbed.

'Oh, careful there, young man,' she said, adding in afterthought as he persisted to cry, 'I didn't hurt you, did I?'

He shook his head, no pause to the crying and Fritha could sense Jaheira's impatience behind her. They really didn't have time for this… Fritha sighed, crouching down and trying to keep a terseness that was not meant for him from her voice.

'Well, what _is_ wrong then?'

He glanced up slowly, taking great shuddering breaths as he pointed to the brightly striped pavilion but a few yards away, members of the Athkatlan watch milling about the entrance.

'My, my mother went inside the tent to see the show last night. She told me to wait here, but she hasn't come out and they won't let me in and, and…'

His voice was lost to sobs once more and Fritha felt her heart sink. She sighed heavily and straightened, glancing from the tear-streaked face of the boy to the weary figures of her friends around her. They had few supplies, only Jaheira had any armour to speak of and no one had slept properly for days.

'Any objections?'

Nobody moved.

'Right, let's go then.'

xxx

Aerie stood pulling at the bonds that bound her arms and feet to the floor even though she knew it was useless, the idea of just standing there and not trying to escape somehow worse. She glanced about her, watching a world that seemed to shift between the glossy marble walls and silk hangings of the illusion and the plain circus tent she knew it to be. Somehow, as a part of the illusion she could see through it, though, she considered as she glanced down to her new body, now the unbound appearance of an ogre, she would have gladly traded this insight for her own form back.

Aerie sighed, giving up her struggle to lean heavily against the wall behind her. How had this happened? Why? The circus had been her home for years now, ever since Uncle Quayle had taken her in. She thought back to the evening before, to the gnome, Kalah's, act. One of the illusions he had been performing had seemed to fail, the magic fizzling before there was a flash and suddenly people were screaming. Aerie had searched for Quayle in the chaos, but had found herself unable to move, suddenly bound in the form of a monster while her friends disappeared around her; some changed to creatures as she had been, while others…

She bit back a sob, her frustration making her tearful. Kalah had killed them. But why? And what had happened to Quayle? She hadn't had chance to find him before she'd changed, what if he too was…? She cried out suddenly, pulling at her bonds with renewed energy as her frustrations rose, the feeling of helplessness unbearable when she thought of her uncle in danger.

Footsteps before her and she glanced up, hardly daring to breathe; had someone heard her? Would it be more monsters? More of Kalah's minions?

But the three that appeared were neither, and nothing like those who usually attended the circus, each of them filthy and with weapons drawn. A tall bald human who looked too large to be believed led the way, followed by two women of an elven heritage. The older woman, tawny and scowling, her younger companion, pale-skinned and amber-haired, and who could have been considered quite pretty if it hadn't been for the slightly haunted look to her eyes. Aerie watched as they entered, cautious but not frightened, taking in the ornamental pools and marble walkways with a wary interest before they finally noticed her.

'Who, who are you?' Aerie called out, but she couldn't wait for them to answer, the idea that another could fall victim to that place too much for her, 'Oh, whoever you are, you must flee this place at once! He has killed or transformed everyone else. Please run!'

But the red-haired girl did the exact opposite, taking another step towards her to stand just out of reach.

'We are not going anywhere without some explanations. Why don't we begin with why an ogre sounds like a young woman.'

'I am not an ogre!' Aerie snapped, unable to suppress a flare of emotion when presented with the girl's coolness, 'I am an elf… or at least, I was… My name is Aerie. I work here in the circus with Uncle Quayle. This covering you see is some sort of illusion, this whole place is, and everyone within has been transformed into monsters. Now go before something happens to you as well!'

But the girl ignored her, glancing up to the vaulted ceiling with a mild interest, before turning back to her.

'Who has done this?'

'Kalah! It was Kalah. He, he was an illusionist with the circus, but I cannot tell you how he could have done all this. Everything here is an illusion, yes, but they are somehow real; they can hurt you!' Aerie pressed, worried they did not seem to be taking the situation seriously. But the girl merely nodded.

'We have been asked to find someone. She came to see the show last night and did not return. She has a young son outside waiting for her.'

Aerie's heart seemed to shrink as soon as it had swelled, the idea that they were here to help someone as wonderful as the fact there was a young child outside alone was dire.

'A young boy… Oh, oh, that sounds like Hannah. She was not killed, thank Baervar, but is somewhere about here in the guise of a spider. I spoke to her before, but I don't know where she is now.'

The girl nodded again. 'Right, where can we find this Kalah?'

Aerie shook her head. 'I, I'm not sure, I can't move about like the others, but… but if you free me I can help you find him, help you stop him before he hurts anyone else!'

The girl glanced to the two behind her, the older woman giving her an impatient glare while the man merely stared back impassively. The girl turned back to her with a shrug and Aerie's heart leapt.

'Okay, how do we free you?'

Aerie glanced down to her bonds. They were corporeal enough as far as she could see; perhaps a blade would be enough.

'I need something sharp, like a sword. If you give me your sword, I can free myself.'

'Fritha…' the woman warned, lowering her staff, and the girl paused a moment, Aerie willing her to not to listen when she finally held out the blade, turning it to offer to her handle first.

Aerie struggled to grip it initially, unused to such large cumbersome hands. But at last she had it, hacking awkwardly at the bonds until the last fell away, a strange soaring sensation suddenly filling her and she could not help but jump as she glanced down, the girl's sword clattering to the floor.

'Oh, it's me again!' she cried, rubbing her hands over herself in wonder, 'My skin, my hair, it's real! Thank Baervar! Oh, we must find Quayle and stop Kalah before he does anymore harm.'

'Well, you'd best come along then,' Fritha sighed, stooping to retrieve her sword and gesturing to each of them with the hilt as she straightened. 'Fritha, Minsc, Jaheira. Just stick close to Minsc, he'll keep an eye on you, right?'

The huge man nodded once and gravely. 'Right. Minsc and Boo shall see you safe, little one.'

Aerie just nodded, slightly alarmed as she noticed the small brown hamster that was nestled at his neck, though she said nothing and turned to follow the two women as they crossed the walkways into the next room. The doorway opened on to another high-ceilinged circular chamber, the stained glass windows dappling the pale marble with colour and Aerie wondered absently at the power needed to create such depth.

'Werewolves!' came a scream and she started to find four of the great shaggy creatures bearing down on them; the illusion's depth now a pressing concern as Jaheira and Minsc charged out to meet the beasts, weapons ready.

Aerie focused, calling upon her magics as she began to intone the words of a spell, watching as the two warriors engaged the beasts, one already dead and vanished. A flash of light engulfed her, the arc of energy striking one of the creatures in the chest as she released her spell, Minsc's broadsword crashing down to finish it.

Only two of the beasts left now. Her magic had seemed to have spooked one of them, the werewolf drawing back, and both Aerie and the creature seemed to notice Fritha together, just stood unmoving and watching the fight with a glazed look. Another spell was on her lips instantly, her heart racing as she watch the beast hurtle towards the girl. But Fritha seemed transfixed, dazed and shaking, and Aerie had to work to keep her casting focused as she watched the creature lunge. Finally, the girl sprang to life, swinging out with her blade as she leapt backwards to catch it across the muzzle.

But her surprise had left her clumsy and the blow floored rather than killed it, the creature taking the opportunity to sink its teeth into her exposed calf. Fritha's scream split the air, the girl driving her blade down with a force clearly intended to pierce its skull. But the creature disappeared as soon as hit and her blade struck the tiles like a thunderclap; the silence that followed so absolute, Aerie wondered if she hadn't been struck deaf.

'Werewolves… they- they were just illusions,' Fritha finally whispered, backing away and almost slipping in her own blood.

'By Silvanus,' shouted Jaheira, storming over to them, Minsc at her heels. 'What were you doing?'

'I- I just…' Fritha stuttered, staring back at her, clearly shaken and Aerie felt an unease creep over her; the girl's sudden change from fearless to petrified leaving Aerie nervous. But the girl finally shook her head and just as suddenly the fear was gone, Fritha stooping to carelessly lift her trouser leg and reveal a neat arc of bloody teeth marks on her calf. 'Well, that seems real enough, even if they weren't.'

Aerie winced as she flexed the muscle and blood oozed from each hole.

'Oh, let me look, I think I've a balm somewhere-' she cried, already rummaging in her bag, but the girl sighed.

'We don't have time for that. Just bind it up tight, it'll be fine.'

Aerie hesitated a moment, but neither of her friends seemed to protest and they did have Quayle to find. She nodded, crouching as she pulled a length of cloth from her pack, the druid lending Fritha a shoulder to lean on as she stood on one leg, Aerie binding up the other as tightly as she could.

'There,' she finally announced, straightening, 'how does that feel?'

Fritha leant her weight upon it, tentatively at first, before pushing down on it a few times and nodding once.

'It's fine. Thank you, Aerie. Where now?'

They seemed to turn as one, all eyes drawn to the staircase that rose up to a dark and yawning doorway. Fritha took step towards it, halting and pained, and slowly they followed. The room was much smaller than the others and darker too, shapes moving in the gloom, the air filled with the low rumble of their breathing and Aerie suddenly felt her heart stop; the room was _full_ of creatures, any one of them could be Quayle!

'Ah, so you have led them here,' came a voice before them and Aerie couldn't stifle a gasp as she noticed a hunched figure at the room's centre, looking like some ungodly mix of troll and rat. 'Well done, my beast.'

'Kalah? But-'

'But what?' he interrupted, his genial tone leaving her cold, 'But you are not my beast? Oh, but you are, you all are, don't you see?'

'Why- why have you done this?' she demanded, her fear and anger leaving her trembling, but Kalah merely laughed.

'I don't have to explain myself to you, _beast_! Attack!'

The room seemed to suddenly erupt about them, creatures lunging in from all sides; Jaheira stepping up to engage a pair of werewolves, Minsc holding back three orcs and Fritha drew a deep breath to suddenly scream, charging through the chaos with her sword held aloft, Aerie at her heels. She reached Kalah just as another werewolf sprang at them and Aerie felt the spell form between her hands before she could think, the blast of energy evaporating it as soon as it hit, though Fritha barely noticed; all her focus on the creature before her. Kalah raised his hands with a spell, clearly panicked, but she knocked them roughly aside, bringing the sword down into his neck and Aerie felt the blood hit her face as the world flashed white and suddenly it was over.

Aerie watched both performers and patrons stood as she had, hands sweeping over familiar forms with relief and staring about at the simple striped walls of the circus tent. Jaheira and Minsc were behind her, both with weapons still drawn and glancing about warily, while at her feet, Fritha was half-knelt holding her leg and cursing quietly, her run through the battle clearly doing nothing for the wound. The girl glanced up, her face grey though she still managed a faint smile.

'You okay there?'

Aerie just nodded; still shaken and merely glad not to have cried out when she felt the blood spatter her.

'Come now,' the girl sighed, her voice as kind as she had heard it yet as she straightened unsteadily to pass her a surprisingly clean handkerchief and Aerie wiped her face.

A groan at their feet drew her attention back to the floor and it was only then she noticed Kalah, a gnome again and laid in a pool of blood larger than he was, his voice faint and rasping.

'No… this isn't what was supposed to happen…'

Fritha looked down, expressionless as she watched the life leave him and said one word. 'Why?'

'In Amn, a mage is a criminal and a gnome a spectacle… They would laugh at me... In my world, I was the master… I- I just wanted to be respected…'

Aerie watched, her heart heavy as Kalah's voice faded, his eyes closing as he finally died. 'He shouldn't have done what he did, but he was right, people did used to laugh at him…'

'I'm gutted for him,' said Fritha without a trace of sincerity and Jaheira snorted as a voice behind them cried, 'Aerie!'

Aerie whirled, relieved to see the short figure of Quayle pushing through the throng, the old gnome beaming.

'Uncle Quayle!'

'Aerie, you're safe!' he laughed as they embraced, his white whiskers tickling her face. Aerie smiled, straightening.

'Fritha, I would like you to meet my uncle.'

Quayle bowed politely, sweeping his hat from his head to reveal a shock of white hair. The girl looked nonplussed a moment before she bowed slightly too, her sense of propriety clearly taking over.

'Nice to meet you, sir.'

Quayle turned back to her with a friendly wink. 'I think they may have noticed I'm a gnome…'

Aerie tried to return his smile, feeling increasingly on show as she forced an explanation.

'Y-Yes, well you see, I was not always with the circus, Uncle Quayle took me in. Before, I- I used to live… elsewhere,' she finished lamely, feeling his eyes upon her and refusing to turn and see his reproachful look. But Fritha merely nodded.

'Well, it was nice to meet you both, but we must be going.'

'Oh, so soon?' Aerie cried, unable to hide her disappointment, though the girl remained unmoved.

'Yes, I would not have come here at all, if not for the boy. Our friend was taken by the Cowled Wizards but a few hours ago; we must get her back.'

Aerie watched, silent, as they filed out. She had not expected them to leave straight away and even with the short time she had spent with them, just to be helping others… she had felt as whole as she had since… Quayle sighed at her elbow and she glanced down to find him watching her with a gentle smile.

'Well, go if you're going, girl.'

'Oh Uncle Quayle,' she cried, stooping to throw her arms about him, 'I'll come visit you all the time.'

'Aye, don't you worry about your old uncle, I'll still be here. Find some happiness, Aerie, and perhaps the pain of what you've lost will be lessened.'

She nodded, feeling tearful again but not wanting him to see her cry as she turned away. Just a moment to return to their living area in the adjoining tent and collect her belongings and staff, and she was out under a high sun, pushing through the crowds as she tried to catch them. Aerie could see the bright copper of Fritha's hair disappearing through the western arches, and she doubled her pace as the way cleared before her, holding her skirts up as she ran.

'Hey, stop! Hey!'

They turned at last, waiting on the steps for her to catch up and Aerie slowed as she reached them, suddenly nervous as she stood under three sets of questioning eyes.

'Well, I- I thought maybe I could help you… you helped me… I know the city. There is a Cowled Wizard representative in the Council Building, I know because the circus had to buy a magic license from them for the illusionists. I could take you there.'

She watched as the women exchanged a look. The druid was clearly unimpressed and Fritha seemed to be weighing up whether it would be worth the grief she would no doubt be subjected to if she accepted her offer, when a loud voice broke the silence.

'Boo thinks this is a good plan. No group should be without a witch,' announced Minsc with a short nod as though this was an end to the matter, setting off again. And the three women had no choice but to follow, passing under the arches of the promenade and heading northward; the buildings around them slowly growing more dilapidated as they walked, while underfoot, cobbles gave way to simple packed earth streets. It was rare for Aerie to go that way, spending most of her time outside the promenade looking at the temples in the south. But she knew enough of the city to know they were entering one of the poorer areas; a district known as the slums by all fortunate enough not to live there.

'So where to now, _fearless_ leader?' continued Jaheira casually as they walked, as though the interruption of her arrival had not occurred. Aerie could hear the scorn in her tone and wondered why the girl put up with her, though Fritha seemed not to notice, merely sighing as she scrubbed a hand across her face.

'It is as before; we should go to an inn first, if only to tidy our appearance. I don't think us pitching up to the Council Buildings looking like this will do anything for our credibility.'

The druid gave her a sidelong glance. 'And all the while Imoen could be further from us…'

'And what would you have me do?' the girl demanded with a sudden fire and Aerie could tell that the woman had hit a nerve. The druid frowned, but had no chance to reply as another cut her off.

'Coo! Well, I may be helping ye fer a start.'

She turned as they did to take in a dark-haired man, the bright blue scarf he was bundled up in not quite hiding the ugly scar that ran from ear to jaw; gimlet eyes fixed upon Fritha. He bowed easily.

'Gaelen Bayle me lady, at yer service.'

xxx

Fritha blinked once.

'Twenty thousand gold pieces?' she heard herself repeat. The man before her nodded nervously, dark hair bobbing.

'Twenty _thousand_!' she said again, her pitch rising and Gaelen swallowed, seemingly pleased of the table between them as they stood in his parlour, the rickety old thing practically the only piece of furniture in that cramped gloomy room, the lack of light not quite hiding the peeling walls.

Fritha felt her hands clench, the sense that life was just mocking her suddenly making it hard to breathe. They had been lured there under the pretence that he could help them recover Imoen, or knew someone who could, at least. But it was an assistance that did not come cheaply and Gaelen may as well have asked her for the moon. She had never even _seen_ that much money before!

'And where _in the hells_ do you expect me to get that sum?'

'Coo! Well, ye could be selling some of yer…' he trailed off, glancing about the group, all wounded and filthy and Fritha could read his thoughts on his face. If their collective belongings fetched a hundred gold, they'd have both been surprised.

'Or ye could do some work around the city,' he continued stalwartly, 'plenty of money out there fer those willing to earn it.'

'And how long will that take?' Fritha cried, her frustration only growing. Every moment they spent there was a moment Imoen was alone; it could be months before they raised the coin.

'Warranted, me lady, it won't be quick, but how much longer will it take to find yer friend without help?' he appeased, and when that did not convince her, he continued on a different tack. 'Look upon it this way, while ye raise the money, ye can look around, keep an ear to the ground. If ye find the lass' whereabouts before ye raise the coin then ye have lost nothing and if not, then it was something worth buying, aye?'

Was it just her, or did that make sense? Fritha laughed shrilly, pushing the heels of her hands into her eyes, as all hopes of seeing her friend again soon seemed to dissolve into the ether.

'Twenty thousand gold pieces.' She sighed deeply, instantly wishing she hadn't as the sour reek of mould assaulted her, glancing to the others before turning back to him defeatedly.

'I'll return when I've the first instalment.'


	2. Lost and found

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Lost and found**

Anomen looked up from his drink, absently running a hand across his beard as he scanned about the tavern's gloomy interior, the familiar faces of the regulars mingled with those of new patrons'.

The Copper Coronet attracted an interesting mix of mercenaries, thieves and those who merely wished to forget their lives in the slums and partake in the tavern's entertainments. He frowned as one of the prostitutes from the brothel upstairs passed, a very drunk man staggering after her. It hadn't taken long for the women to realise he was not looking for companionship and they generally left him alone, his only conversations during the long hours of waiting being with the occasional mercenary, who, like he, were more interested in looking for work than company.

Anomen leant back in his chair and took mouthful of ale; it was warm by now but he would make it last. If spent frugally, he had just enough money left for another few days before he would have to return to the Order and join a campaign to earn some coin. The Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart was the largest knightly order in Amn and was never short of battles to fight. They paid well enough for the work too, but glory earned there was glory shared by many and it was nothing he could distinguish himself by… and he should know, he had been trying long enough, the last four years spent travelling the slow path to knighthood under their banner as squire.

And so, that left him there.

He'd been coming to the Coronet, one of the slums' more civilized inns, for just over a tenday now, looking for a group of like-minded people to join, but nothing had presented itself and as time went on he'd found his hopes dwindling. Anomen sighed, taking another mouthful of the ale just for something to do; perhaps another tavern would be more fruitful? But it was an idea he had no time to fully consider for, at that moment, the door banged open and he looked up expecting some local or other, his eyes taking in four he had never seen there before.

A young elven maid with flaxen hair was leading the way, though he could tell at a glance she was not their leader. She was followed by a huge bald warrior, his darker skin and tattoos placing him as a northerner of some sort, the woman at his side tall for a half-elf and austere with it, seeming to regard everything she deigned to notice with a mild contempt. Behind them, came the last of their group, another half-elf by the look of her, though shorter than the first, long copper curls streaked with dirt and pinned up so untidily he would not have been surprised to see mice nesting in it. She followed at a stilted pace, limping badly and looking as though it was one of the least things troubling her. Barring the elf, they were all filthy, even considering the surroundings, trudging up to the bar to exchange brief words with the landlord before disappearing up stairs.

Anomen shook himself, an unexplained excitement filling him. He had never seen such a ragtag group. And only four of them, by the look of things; they would surely take him! He smiled, signalling to the waitress as he prepared to wait for their return. This was it. They were the ones. Anomen waited for another hour or so, his hopes so elevated he even ordered another drink, this patience finally paying off when the elf reappeared on the stairs, tripping lightly down them and he caught her at the bar.

'Fair elf,' he began, the girl before him whirling round, startled, 'I inquire after the party I saw you with earlier, have you need of a strong sword arm?'

'Sorry? Oh, I am not really sure, Fritha did not mention-'

'Fritha? Your leader, I presume?' he interrupted, thinking back to the two other women he had seen, eager to know more before he met her, 'she was the taller of the pair?'

'N-No, the shorter. I- I should probably,' she stammered warily, gathering her skirts and half-turning ready for a swift departure, only to collide with someone behind her. 'Oh, Fritha! This man-'

She stepped aside and he was suddenly staring down at a pale pretty face, two large brown eyes, a shade darker than was perhaps usual for her colouring, gazing back at him. The girl definitely looked better for her rest, dressed in clean clothes and her hair damp, though her leg still seemed to be giving her trouble. He bowed.

'My lady, allow me to introduce myself, I am Anomen Delryn, squire to the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart and servant of Helm. I hear you are in need of a strong sword arm.'

The girl blinked slowly, inclining her head towards the elf.

'Indeed… Aerie has told you of our situation?'

'Well, I- ah…' the elf stuttered, physically recoiling from the question.

The girl closed her eyes for the briefest of moments, and when she spoke again her voice was soft.

'Have you eaten yet, Aerie?'

The elf shook her head.

'Come,' the girl continued, smiling now, albeit a touch tiredly, 'I shall order some food and we can take a table. Will you join us, ah…?'

She finally turned to him, a slight frown creasing her brow as she clearly tried to recall his name. He smiled.

'Anomen. I should be honoured, my lady.'

He followed the elf, Aerie, as she weaved her way through the tables to settle at one under one of the bar's few windows, the slums outside just a drab blur through the grimy glass, Fritha joining them moments later.

'So from where do you hail?' Anomen began once they'd all seated, unable to keep the cheer from his voice. Just when he had been giving up hope and they'd appeared; surely it was sign! 'You have none of you the look of an Athkatlan.'

Aerie remained silent, and Fritha looked as though she would have liked nothing better than to join her, though she slowly drew a breath and politely answered him.

'As a group we are most recently of Baldur's Gate, though I call the Western Heartlands home, Jaheira is from Tethyr and Minsc is a Rashemi. The good Aerie here, lives within the city, though not always.'

She glanced to Aerie, perhaps as an invitation for the girl to expand on this, but the elf dropped her attention to her drink, and Anomen continued quickly to fill the silence.

'You have been in the city long?'

'We arrived this morning.'

'And what brings you to Athkatla?'

The girls before him shared a look and Fritha turned back, her expression neutral. 'I seek something that was taken from me… something of great value. But we should not speak of that now, our food has arrived.'

He glanced up, the maid suddenly at his shoulder and setting dishes before them, and they ate together, Anomen explaining to them of his quest to join the Order. Something which Fritha seized upon as soon as mentioned, and the time seemed to go very quickly from then on, with him telling them of its glorious campaigns and most celebrated members; the girls providing an attentive, albeit quiet audience.

'Well, we shall meet at mid-morning tomorrow to discuss plans,' said Fritha finally, and Anomen was surprised to find the plates before them were empty, 'should you still wish to join us, then feel free to come.'

'You would wait until tomorrow? It is barely evening yet.'

She smiled slightly, barely a quirk of her lips, but he could tell his eagerness amused her and instantly felt embarrassed.

'Perhaps,' she answered evenly, 'but my friends are resting and I would not disturb them for all of Toril. Do you have a room here?'

'No, my lady, I have quarters at the Order, but rest assured I shall be here on the morrow.'

'Until then.' She rose and bowed slightly and he returned the gesture before turning on his heel and marching swiftly out.

Had Athkatla ever seemed so bright as in that afternoon? The whole city warmed by a dying summer sun as he walked through the streets, making his way back to the Order's buildings to the south. He had a group to journey with! Suddenly anything seemed possible; he would make a name for himself, earn glories and honours that would see him shine even in such company the Order held. They could deny him no longer and he would finally achieve his dream and join their ranks! Finally prove himself to his father, to the world!

Anomen strolled along, his imagination providing such scenery he barely noticed he had reached the temple district, glancing up to see the great stone church to Helm rising stern and watchful amongst the other shrines. He would attend later, after evensong, to give thanks and make prayers for the coming trials. He walked on now though, nodding respectfully to the Watchers at the door as he passed and wending his way through the district's criss-cross of canals to the Order compound. Anomen smiled as he saw it, the yellow stonework glowing gold through the poplars that lined the outer walls. He passed under the great arched gateway, every detail seeming so much more noticeable and he could not remember feeling any more in awe of the place than he had when he'd first seen it ten years ago.

Just inside, the younger boys were having sword practise in the courtyard, those not participating sat on the stable walls to shout and cheer their friends, some older squires and knights stood about the edge, watching with a mild interest as the great stone fortress of the Great Hall towered behind them, haloed by the setting sun. He moved to join them, arriving just as another duel was ended, the shouts and applause of the crowd almost drowning out the voice.

'Ho, Anomen!'

He glanced up at the noise to see Simon's round boyish face grinning at him from across the square, his friend skirting the edge of the gathering to join him. Simon had been at the Order since he was twelve and a friend of Anomen's ever since he had joined four years ago. Looking younger than his nineteen years with a shock of permanently untidy blond hair, it was hard to believe the lively man had spent most of his life within the Order's structured walls, though Anomen wondered whether his friend's ardent worship of the Morninglord did not have something to do with it.

'Anomen, this afternoon finds you in good spirits,' he said by way of greeting and it was only then Anomen realised he had been smiling all this while. He nodded once.

'That it does for I have found a group to join; just arrived from Baldur's Gate.'

He had anticipated his friend's look of astonishment, but his words were wholly unexpected.

'Hey, would they not be the same northerners who dispatched a dark illusionist in the promenade this morning?'

Anomen opened his mouth to answer and stopped. Fritha had said they had just arrived that morning… and looking a little worse for wear for their journey…

He shook his head slowly. 'Well, they were about this morning, but…'

'Who were about this morning?' cut in another voice and he turned to see Sir Erick, the dark-haired friend he had once shared a dormitory with; that was, until Erick had been knighted.

Anomen fought down a twinge of envy. Erick had been knighted just after his twenty-first birthday that Alturiak, taking on the benefits and responsibilities that went with it, as well as his own room. In fact, most squires were knighted at about the age of twenty, but this was Anomen's twenty-fourth year upon the earth and he was beginning to wonder whether it was an honour that would ever come; especially when he watched younger squires attain knighthood before him. It was a worry he regularly lectured Simon on as his friend grew older, though the younger man remained unconcerned. Claiming the Order would knight him when the time was right and not before, in a calm assured way that made Anomen feel jealous. He had once pressed the issue, asked him what he'd do if the day never came, but Simon had never been plagued by the same doubts he suffered with and had merely stared back at him with a puzzled look, the idea clearly never entering into his head.

'Well, who then?' Erick prompted, raising an eyebrow with a smile and Anomen realised he had yet to answer.

'A group of northerners that Anomen's gone and signed on with,' supplied Simon with a grin, anticipating his friend's reaction.

'Not that group who set the circus to rights?' Erick confirmed, his voice almost lost in the roar of another finished duel, 'I heard they are the same band that saved the Gate!'

'No,' cried Simon, turning back to Anomen, beaming. 'Looks like you've fallen in with a proper sort.'

'I'm sure it could not be the same…' mumbled Anomen, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. He had heard the news; who in Athkatla had not? How close their country had come to war with Baldur's Gate, before it suddenly emerged that the whole thing had been orchestrated by a Bhaalspawn for his own ends, who had _then_ been defeated by an unknown group of mercenaries. The same group of mercenaries to who he had just babbled on and on about joining the Order? Anomen covered his face with a groan. How foolish he must have seemed! And the way the girl had smiled at him as he left…

They probably thought him no more than a wide-eyed boy, fresh from the seminary, the eager way he had approached them! But still, he reasoned, they must have invited him to join them for a reason…

_Perhaps they need someone to carry their bags?_

Anomen shook his head crossly, trying to dismiss the sudden unease within him, though his friends seemed not to notice, eagerly speculating what glorious adventures they would soon be leading him on and congratulating him his good fortune. He glanced back to the gates, no longer gold now the sun had dipped below the Great Hall, the shadows that hung about them now looking all the darker for it.

xxx

Fritha spent the rest of the afternoon with Aerie, explaining their situation more fully to the elf, though it hardly made for a more relaxed atmosphere and they each retired to their own rooms at sunset. Fritha spent the evening trying to occupy herself, going through her bag to make note of the supplies she would have to replace and practising her scales. But her mind felt restless, unable to focus on any one thing for long, and not even her bath brought her the customary peace. Lying in water just the wrong side of tepid, her mind going over their confrontation in the promenade again and again, each scenario slightly different from the last and all searching for some way she could have saved her.

Fritha sighed angrily, sliding under the water and listening to her heartbeat slow as she held her breath, her mind clearing until all her thoughts were on the slow dull thud in her ears and the insistent burning of her lungs. Finally, she surfaced gasping, still slightly dizzy as she took up her soap. It was one she had bought back in the Gate just before they'd left. A beeswax base, scented with sandalwood. Far too expensive, but Imoen had talked her round in the end; had laughed and said she deserved a treat after saving the city and all.

Fritha smiled sadly at the smooth ochre disk. How was it everything came back to her?

She washed herself quickly, ignoring the sting in her leg before rising to walk to the open window, unmindful of her nakedness or the water she was pooling over the floorboards. Her eyes drifted over the city, a thousand points of light flickering in the darkness, moonlight glinting off the temple spires to the south, the five solid towers of the Council Buildings silhouetted to the north. Aerie had taken her to see the city officials after the squire had left, but the Magistrate had merely shaken her head: sorry, but ultimately powerless in such matters.

But even her useless pity had been better than the attitude of the Cowled Wizards' representative they'd met with. The man listening to her account with a bored look, before claiming to know nothing of such matters and ushering her from his office with such an air of disdain that, for a second, she wanted nothing more than to gather up her own energies, strike him into little pieces, and bring every Cowled Wizard within the city screaming down on them. At least then she would be with Imoen, even if no longer in a position to actually rescue her. But her own brand of magic was newly discovered and fickle; she could have probably done more damage to him with a dirty look.

She sighed. Dynaheir had offered to teach her how to harness it, to draw it out, but now Fritha was left to stumble blindly on alone, all trial and error, and more than she'd have liked of the latter. She had tried that evening, kneeling before the old tin bath the maid had brought and filled, seeing if she could heat the water by her will alone. But either it was cooling faster than her meagre powers could warm it, or else it was not working at all, for the temperature did not increase and all she was left with at the end of it was a bath of lukewarm water.

_Patience in all things… _sighed her mind in a voice somewhere between Gorion and Tethtoril and Fritha shook her head, staring out at that dark foreign city.

That was all very well in theory, but she could not suppress the restlessness writhing within her, tormented by the idea that her friend could be somewhere in the city right now, even somewhere close by and Fritha wouldn't know. She and Imoen had never been parted for more than a tenday since they'd first met…how the days seemed to stretch on endlessly now, with no guarantee of her return. And how were the others coping? Minsc was quieter than usual, sharing his feelings only with his hamster, but was anything else to be expected? He had been dealing with the knowledge of Dynaheir's murder for a tenday now, in that dungeon alone with only his thoughts. And what of Jaheira? She had not even had the grace of time to deal with her husband's death, and Fritha felt like crying all over again because there really was nothing she could say to either of them.

Khalid and Dynaheir: two wonderful friends who had helped her so much since she had been forced from Candlekeep and now they were gone, and there wasn't a thing she could do to fix it.

_No, no, none of that…_ her mind scolded, and she drew a deep breath of cool night air, steeling herself. No one could change the past, she had to focus on the future now, on raising the coin for Imoen. Those two they had met today would be a help, at least in the short term. Though how they had managed to meet two so completely contrary individuals in one day she would never fathom.

The elf, so timid and reticent, with such a clear steel just beneath the surface. And the squire, so full of plans and exuding a confidence that could not quite hide his worries.

Fritha sighed, her observations depressing her. A balance between the two would have been preferred, especially when she was unsure as to the stability of her own companions. But, unfortunately, capable people were rather keen on getting decent pay.

As the sages said, beggars can't be choosers…


	3. The head that wears the crown

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**The head that wears the crown**

Anomen awoke early that morning, for a moment unsure as to why, before he remembered the previous day and was suddenly wide awake, rising to dress and pack up his belongings as quietly as possible, while his three other roommates slept on. But it did not take as long as he would have thought and he slipped from the room but half an hour later, his family shield slung at his back and mace at his hip, quietly leaving the dormitories to cross the courtyard to the Great Hall.

The morning bell would not sound for a while yet and the high pillared room, though usually quiet, was not normal so empty and held an eerie air. He stared up at the huge statue of Torm that towered at the end of the hall, very aware of the eye of Helm that hung about his neck, the metal cold against his chest. Perhaps he had been hoping for some sort of epiphany, some guidance on how to achieve the recognition he sought, but his mind remained as silent as that cool stone hall and eventually he turned to leave, starting as he almost collided with someone.

'Ah, Squire Anomen.'

Anomen stepped back, finding himself looking at a strong lined face, two dark eyes watching him kindly from under greying brows. He bowed.

'Prelate Wessalen, good morning, my lord.'

'Good morning, indeed, for I hear tell that you have found yourself a group to travel with.'

'Er, yes, sir, that is so,' Anomen nodded, a touch nervous as they instinctively fell into step, heading back towards the doors. Anomen's direct superior was Sir Ryan Trawl, a sober paladin of middling years who joined Anomen in his worship of Helm and the squire knew what to expect from him, their relationship ordered and predictable. The prelate was a wise man and an excellent tactician, managing the Order's many battalions and paladins with a shrewd mind. But he had a paternal, almost jovial air that seemed out of place for a man of such power, and Anomen could never quite shake the feeling he was trying to catch him out.

'And I also hear,' Wessalen continued with a smile, 'that it is the same group who so narrowly averted the war with Baldur's Gate.'

'Well, sir, I must admit to being less sure of that,' he answered honestly. Anomen had spent an age last night going over what his friends had said, and he had found on reflection he could easily dismiss it as hearsay, bearing no relation to the girl's words at their meeting. The prelate, though, looked surprised.

'Truly? The descriptions match from what I hear. A Rashemi warrior, a female druid and half-elven girl with an abundance of-'

He raised an eyebrow and Anomen, slowly finished, '…auburn hair.'

Wessalen beamed. 'The very same. Tell me, is she as fair as the bards would have it?'

Anomen blinked, an uncomfortable heat rising in his face as he was once again wrong-footed.

'I- she is not unattractive, sir,' he answered finally, having a hard time even bringing to mind _what_ she looked like under the old paladin's enquiring gaze. But the prelate merely laughed.

'That pretty, eh? Well, it seems your patience has paid off; not many squires are lucky enough to find such company to make a name with,' he continued genially as they reached the doors. 'Should you be in the area, do bring them in. I am sure Sir Ryan has a task or two to occupy them with and I myself should like to meet them,' he smiled mildly, 'Confirm the bard song.'

And with that, he turned to stroll back to his office, still chuckling to himself.

The sun was above the horizon as Anomen stepped outside into the courtyard, and he could hear the morning bell waking the rest of the Order as he pushed open the doors to the nearby temple of Helm but moments later. The first service would not be for hour or so yet, but he was known by the priests and he moved through to the chapel exchanging greetings with those he passed, his meeting with the prelate no more than an uncomfortable memory. He always felt a peace at prayer that seemed to be missing from the rest of his life, but that morning he found it harder to focus than usual. The hollow echoing silence of the high stone room unable to quiet the buzzing of his own mind, his own frustrations just making it worse and he did not linger once his prayers were done.

He reached the Coronet barely a half an hour later and it would not have normally taken that long, but for the fact he was dawdling in an effort to kill time. Nevertheless, it was still long before mid-morning and he could not quite bring himself to enter, imagining the amused look on the girl's face as he once again displayed an eagerness of childish intensity. And so he stood outside, the morning's peace broken only by a distant barking and the echoed strains of a woman singing somewhere in the inn above him.

He waited another half an hour, perhaps longer, the singing eventually drifting off to be replaced with the cries of merchants and passers-by as the slums awoke about him, and he finally entered. He saw Fritha immediately, recognising the copper hair even across the tavern, damp and pinned up as it had been the previous day. The elf, Aerie, was sat next to her while the other two, who he had only glimpsed so far, sat opposite. Fritha noticed his approach, holding up a hand and smiling in the tight sort of gesture of one putting a brave face on things. The shadows under her eyes were darker that morning, though she seemed less tired, rising politely as he reached them to introduce him to the half-elf and the Rashemi. The former offering him little more than a frown and the latter rising to heartily shake his hand, proclaiming they always welcomed an another sword with an enthusiasm which seemed incongruous amongst his companions.

Fritha had expected him, it seemed, and Anomen sank into the place she had laid for him feeling welcome in spite of their reactions and his own worries; the girl taking a moment to offer him some food and pour his tea, before going back to her own cup, the table returning to the silence he had arrived to. He ate quietly for a few uncomfortable moments, but silence in company had never rested well with him and, at last, he drew a breath and turned to the girl at his side with a smile.

'Yesterday, we did not have chance to discuss your intentions within the city, though I assume you wish to make some attempt to retrieve what was stolen.'

Everyone seemed to stop at his words, each frozen mid-action while eyes flickered between them before Fritha finally swallowed her mouthful with a sigh, turning towards him in her chair as the others returned to their food.

'I would it were so simple. You wish to know of our first objective here in the city? We are here to raise coin, twenty thousand gold pieces to be exact.'

He stared at her, wondering if he'd heard correctly as a humourless smile twisted her mouth. 'They say you can buy anything in this fair city of yours, but what I seek seems to command a high price.'

'What on Toril could possible cost such a sum?'

'Information, namely the whereabouts of my friend. She was taken yesterday by the Cowled Wizards for a magic-related infraction within the city. The gold will buy us the location of where they are holding her and aid her return.'

'But it was her first violation of the law? Surely it must have been a serious one to brook such a response?'

'No…' she answered slowly, eyes dropping briefly to the cup she was swirling, 'but circumstances were not helped by the fact she was attacking the mage who had destroyed half the promenade.'

'That was _you_?' he cried incredulously and the mirthless smile was back.

'Yes… I should probably go further back. My friends and I left the Gate just over a tenday ago, but we were not three days from the city when were we captured by unknown assailants. I remember nothing from then on until I awoke later, caged and alone, a mage, who I now know as Irenicus, standing over me.' She paused, watching the leaves drifting in her teacup, her causal tone somehow making the account all the more horrific.

'He spoke of experiments, though if his tests held any value other than torture, I could not tell. The days passed in a blur and my next real memory began yesterday, of my friend, Imoen, picking the lock to my cage. The mage's stronghold was under attack by a rival guild of sorts and in this chaos we made our escape. It was then we realised that not all of our group had survived our capture…'

Her face darkened, her voice so low he had to lean in to hear her. 'Jaheira lost her husband and Minsc, his ward. In the end, only four of us escaped alive…' She stopped again, watching as the tealeaves finally came to rest at the bottom of her cup, before continuing, her voice stronger.

'Irenicus stopped us as we reached the surface though, a battle ensued and the Cowled Wizards came and took both he and Imoen away.'

'So now you pursue them in hope of finding Irenicus and exacting some justice.' he concluded, his voicing coming loud and falsely hearty, but the girl just shrugged, finally facing him with an impassive look.

'I can't speak for the others, but revenge holds no interest for me. I just want my friend back… Right,' she continued, turning back to the table to include the rest of them. 'We need to replace our supplies before we go any further. We'll go shopping this morning and can spend the afternoon looking for work.'

She drank her remaining tea in one mouthful, setting the cup down with a snap that seemed to signal the end of the meal, everyone pushing aside plates to rise with her, and after a few moment's bustle as bags were shouldered, they filed to the door and he was out once again in the sunlit slums.

**...**

Fritha stood on her vantage point, the plinth of one of the couchant marble lions that guarded the steps of the western archway, shielding her eyes against the sun as she scanned the promenade. The marketplace was as loud and busy as it had been the previous day; perhaps more so, she considered as she glanced across the sea of heads to the eastern end, the crowds milling curiously about the rubble she had been stood upon only a day before. Whether more had collapsed in the night or she just hadn't noticed the previous day, but the destruction looked much more that morning. The neat tiered steps nothing more than a slope of scree and rubble while the nearest of the six domed towers that stood at intervals about the arena had lost two of its walls, the beaten copper dome crumpled in on itself.

Fritha shook herself, trying to focus on the task at hand as she jumped lightly from the base to rejoin her group, the people moving through the arch behind jostling her as they passed. Growing up in Candlekeep, she had never really become accustomed to large crowds and this, coupled with her memories of the place from the previous day, was serving to make her uneasy.

'Right,' she shouted, having trouble hearing herself over the roar of the masses, 'everyone try to keep together. Aerie, you must know this place as well as any, you're up front with me.'

And with a smile to the girl, she turned, drew a deep breath and stepped down into the throng.

Fritha blinked sweat from her eyes, breathing through her mouth in an attempt to lessen the sour smell of the air, as all about her people jostled to get to and from the stalls that lined the promenade in narrow avenues. Not that she could see anything of them for the wall of chests and backs that surrounded her, and Fritha found herself having to walk sideways, every other word an apology as she sidled through the crowds, constantly glancing back and forwards, keeping an eye on Aerie's pale gold head as she led the way, while trying not to lose others in press. Fritha sighed, the close air making her tunic cling unpleasantly to her back as she pushed her way after the elf. She had hardly noticed the heat the day before, not wholly unsurprising considering the circumstances, but it was definitely at the fore of her mind today.

Finally, the crowds seemed to thin slightly as they moved further from the western gate, and at last they reached a patch of open space along the northern terrace, presumable kept clear by the nearby sewer grate, produce deemed unfit for sale currently piled about it and left to rot. But Fritha found the smell was the least of her irritations as she wiped yet more sweat from the bridge of her nose, turning to the elf as the others pushed their way through the crowds to join them one by one.

'Gods, Aerie, is it always this busy?'

'Not usually, n-no, but this is the last tenth-day market of Eleasias,' she explained, her expression becoming sheepish, 'Sorry.'

'Goodness, it's hardly your fault,' Fritha sighed, though Anomen seemed to think otherwise.

'Really,' he snorted, his condescending tones audible even over the clamour as he glanced about at the bustle with disdain, his gaze falling for a brief yet pointed moment on Aerie. 'If _I_ had known of this, I could have led you to the Bridge district; there are stalls there.'

Aerie flushed and shot him a look, though she remained silent and Fritha tried to keep her voice free from the exasperation she felt as another customer knocked into her on his way past.

'Well, it's neither here nor there now, for we're here. Let's see what's available.'

She watched as the group disbanded, moving away to the nearby stalls, but Fritha lingered a moment longer, enjoying the relative space, unwilling rejoin the press so soon and letting her mind wander over what she would need to buy. Thankfully, barring their more expensive items such as armour and weapons, everyone's bags had been retrieved from the dungeon relatively untouched, their meagre belongings clearly beneath the mage's attention. There had been no sign of Fritha's lute though; the leather bands that had strapped it to her pack hanging slack and empty, and at the time it had been a source of slight disappointment for her. She had been schooled in music back in Candlekeep, amongst the other bardic arts. And though she had been shy of performing for anyone bar Gorion and select few others, her lute had left Candlekeep when she had, suffering the trials with her since she had been forced from her home, and she had not liked to think of the instrument lost, or worse, being played by another.

But then other things had come to light and _its_ absence had paled into insignificance. All in all, Fritha had lost only her lute and her sword, her last suit of chain rotting somewhere off the coast of Balduran's Isle through no fault of the mage's. Replacement weapons had been found easily enough during their escape from the dungeon, as had leather armour to fit Jaheira; something Fritha could only be glad of when she considered how little coin they had for supplies. Her hand tightened reflexively around the purse in her pocket, woefully light and containing barely two hundred gold's worth in coin and stones. From that they would have to find two sets of _very _cheap armour, plus provisions and other basic equipment.

Something which appeared to have escaped the others as she finally pushed her way after them, finding the group scattered over a couple of nearby weapons dealers, Aerie rifling through the books and trinkets on the alchemy stall opposite.

_Great_

'My lady,' called Anomen as she approached them and she wandered across to where he was stood at nearby arms stall, his eyes trained on the blued-steel cuirass that was hung from the frame above.

'Have you ever seen such craftsmanship? The merchant here tells me it's of dwarven make,' he enthused, and Fritha glanced up to it with a sigh. Five interlocking plates that fit together almost seamlessly, the highest one decorated with a brass inlay of lions. It _was_ beautiful… and clearly worth more than all she owned put together.

Anomen was still staring at her though, evidently waiting for some professional comment as to its merit or suitability.

'Indeed. Very, ah, nice,' she mumbled lamely, rubbing her forehead; the heat was making it difficult to think. 'But, perhaps not for us.'

'Well, you said you were looking for armour.' He huffed, clearly offended by her lack of enthusiasm and Fritha left him to it; turning to notice a large well-stocked stand further along the terrace and leaving Anomen to gaze longingly up at the breastplate. Love at first sight, it seemed,_ entirely_ possible. She reached the stall and stood a moment, watching what were either young hirelings or the merchant's two sons rushing about behind him, the air heavy with spice as they weighed and bagged the powders with brightly stained hands, the wide-set merchant nodding politely to her before returning his attention to the customers in front of him.

The stall appeared to carry a bit of everything; dried hanks of meat hanging alongside ropes and horse-tackle, baskets of fruit and bolts of bleached linen lined neatly before the tables. The stand before her was covered in spice and herbs; the bright delicate saffron fronds, fragrant cumin like a dish of terracotta dust. But what drew her eye were two large baskets of dried leaves, the dusty green of the Kara-Turan, the shredded black of the Calimshite: tea.

Her first instinct was for the Kara-Turan. It was double the price of the Calimshite, but they would probably be out of the city within a couple of days, if only for the fact she could not afford to keep them all in an inn for much longer, and it would be impractical to take lemons or honey with them for the more bitter drink…

'Fritha, look!' came a voice behind her, breaking through her thoughts and she glanced behind to see Minsc holding a huge broadsword, the storekeep hovering anxiously behind him. 'Imagine what Minsc could do with this!'

'True, true, maybe next time, eh?' she called back, sending him a smile that felt more like a grimace as she returned her attention to the stall.

Still, Calimshite tea could be drunk alone at a push, perhaps- she jumped back as a plain green pendant was thrust before her, the earnest face of the elf not far behind it.

'Fritha, this amulet protects from poison.'

Fritha bit back a sigh with some difficulty, impatiently wiping the sweat from her cheekbones. She could appreciate everyone's enthusiasm, especially when she had failed to mention the fact they were practically broke to anyone bar Jaheira, but it was wearing nevertheless.

'I don't think we've quite the coin for that now, Aerie.'

'Yes,' agreed Anomen with a sympathetic and rather patronising smile, 'do stop wasting your time with these peddlers.'

Aerie opened her mouth to reply and Fritha took a couple of steps away from them until sure she could not hear either over the crowds, turning to the druid now at her side.

'Two silver a quarter,' she said with a nod to the basket of curling green leaves, 'what do you think?'

'Do you think I care for _tea_, girl?' Jaheira snapped, turning her back on the stall as though to emphases the point. 'We should be looking for armour for you and Minsc!'

Fritha felt her temple twitch.

'And we will, Jaheira,' she sighed, returning to the wares before her, 'but we need supplies as well.'

Jaheira snorted, marching off to stand with Minsc and Fritha let her. The druid was as uncomfortable in the city as she was, but it was still a disappointment to find that one who she had previously thought would be an ally on this shopping trip was turning out to be just as trying as everyone else. But the merchant caught her eye and she smiled anyway.

'Greetings, lady, a pearl to you.'

'Well met, sir, I'll take six ounces of the Kara-Turan tea, four of salt, a length of rope-'

'Eight or twelve yard?' he interrupted, as the boys scurried about behind him, setting scales and weighing bags.

'Twelve. And how long will the dried fish last for?'

'About four days as long as you keep it dry.'

'Okay, six of those please. Ah, two lanterns, four score of arrows.'

'Barbed?'

'No, just the plain ones. And that short bow back there, how much?'

'Forty gold.'

Fritha winced. 'It looks rather worn… I'll give you twenty-five.'

'Thirty.'

'Done. How much does that come to?'

He did not hesitate a second. 'Forty-nine and eight.'

Her look of dismay was instant and he smiled kindly.

'Say forty-nine gold straight, dear.'

She smiled through her shame, not in a position to be turning away charity however embarrassed she was, and dipped her head to rummage for the money while the two boys helped her distribute the goods among her friends.

'Right. Did you say you knew of a leather merchant, Aerie?'

The girl nodded cheerfully, seemingly glad to be of help as she led the way across the arena, the group sidetracked a moment while Minsc and Boo were distracted by a travelling zoo, before the elf finally cried, 'there, it's up there.'

Fritha glanced to the stall a couple of tiers up, the workshop set into the stone cell behind it and she followed Aerie as she tripped lightly up the steps, the merchant calling down a greeting as he saw her.

'Hello there, Aerie. How's your uncle? I heard what went on in the circus. Nasty bit of business, that. I was just telling the wife last night, I spoke to Kalah only a few days back and he seemed normal enough. A bit happier than usual, I suppose now I think on it.'

'Gil, these are my friends,' she cut in as politely as was possible, and Fritha shot her a grateful look. 'They were looking for some armour.'

'Armour?' he repeated as Fritha ushered Minsc forward for the man to see him, 'well, you've come to the right place. Let's see what we've got to fit you, eh?'

She watched a moment as Gil gave Minsc an appraising look, before announcing he'd just the thing and leading the ranger into the workshop behind them, Fritha turning back to root listlessly through the rest of his stall, uncovering a heavy pair of sandals in amongst some worn old bags. Well, she had been complaining about the heat…

'There, what do you think?'

She glanced up to see Minsc and Gil before them again, her friend now encased in a heavy leather breastplate and bracers, bands of metal riveted onto the leather and encircling his broad chest.

'How does it feel, Minsc?'

The large man stretched this way and that, rolling his shoulders with a contemplative look and finally nodding once. Fritha turned back to Gil.

'How much?'

The merchant eyed her shrewdly. 'Well, since you know my Aerie… forty gold.'

'Throw in these' she said, gesturing to him with the shoes she held, 'and you've got yourself a deal.'

'Sandals?' snapped Jaheira's voice behind her and Fritha felt herself drawing a deep measured breath.

'It's too hot in my boots, I can barely think straight.'

The woman snorted. 'It is fine, girl,' she dismissed and Fritha had to bite her tongue against a retort. It was all very well for _Jaheira_. Her homeland, Tethyr, was even further south than Amn; this was probably a brisk autumn day for her. But Fritha ignored both the druid and the sniping of her own mind, paying Gil before turning back to face Jaheira's contemptuous look.

And that was it.

Fritha emptied half the remaining coin into the druid's hands and announced she would meet them back at the inn, pretending not to hear Anomen's offers of an escort as she clattered down the steps and lost herself in the crowds, leaving them and their bickering behind her. Jaheira watched Fritha disappear into the masses before dropping her gaze to the handful of coin the girl had left, her guilt barely registering through the anger that had seemed to have suffused her ever since they had left that dungeon, growing with each moment as though the sunlight nurtured it as a plant.

Just to be around people was enough to raise her ire to the point where could barely speak for it. Just to be in the world, surrounded by those who'd never known Khalid, who did not know of his passing, of the hole it had left. She stared out over the marketplace, so full of bustle and life; the low roar of their chatter grating her nerves raw.

That the world could continue to exist so merrily without him seemed the greatest insult!

Jaheira did not miss him; the word felt too small for a feeling so large, so completely overwhelming. It seemed to have taken a physical form, aching through her. Every breath a chore, every second a torture, for it only led into another without him, time stretching off to an infinity of his absence. She glanced up, the world about her muted and dull.

Aerie was asking why Fritha had left. The squire grumbling about how unprofessional it was to split up without proper communication of the fact, and Minsc…

She glanced over to the ranger who was watching her with a remarkably lucid look, the hamster scurrying about his broad shoulders. Her sudden hatred for them all was overwhelming; who was _he_ to judge her behaviour? Who were any of them? Why had Fritha allowed such _children_ to join with them? She thought back to the girl's look before she left; so clearly angry, yet unwilling to lose her temper, showing a strength of will that only made Jaheira's frustrations grow.

The druid could barely hold her thoughts from one second to the next, and she hated the way the girl could just seem to work through it, just think past her grief to what they would need for the future. It was somehow so much worse than not knowing he was gone; the fact Fritha did and was just as pained, and was just getting on with things anyway… because someone had to. And _that_ was what Jaheira hated the most -because someone had to and after everything it should have been _her_.

Barely six months the girl had been in the world and already she stomped about it like a sunburnt veteran; all firm shoulders and tired eyes. It should be Jaheira keeping them together; Jaheira finding allies; Jaheira worrying about funds and work. But it was not. The druid stared out across the sunlit promenade, bright and busy as the temple bells sounded noon. Fritha was out there somewhere bearing all this alone… and there she would stay, because Khalid was dead and Jaheira could not bring herself to care about anything else.

'Come,' she heard her voice say, those about her turning to the sound. 'We should return to the inn.'


	4. An eternity with friends

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**An eternity with friends**

Nalia paused, a hand resting on the handle of yet another tavern door. That was the third she had visited since entering the slums that afternoon, and the only thing to differentiate each had been the name. She glanced about her, the rank smell mingling with the general squalor of her surroundings and depressing her further; that people were forced to live in such conditions… She shook herself. She hadn't time for that now. The attack on her keep had turned the tables on her, and for once it was she who needed help. She'd covered the all taverns in Waukeen's promenade and bridge district that morning to no avail. If she didn't find someone soon…

Nalia drew a breath, trying to ignore the smell as she quelled the sudden panic that had risen within her. Father was relying on her, as was the rest of the keep and she would not let them down. She stepped over the threshold, her eyes scanning the bar in an instant. She had visited enough of those places, both that morning and before, to know a likely group when she saw one and the pair in the corner looked the part; a huge bald man with a tall female companion, both armed and paying little attention to the drunken commotion of their surroundings. She crossed purposefully to their table, swallowed and began.

'Excuse me? You are for hire? As mercenaries, I mean,' she added as the woman glanced up sternly, 'my keep is under siege and I come to hire men to help rout the enemy.'

The woman stared at her a moment, finally kicking out a chair and Nalia took it as an invitation to sit down.

'I am Jaheira, this is Minsc,' the woman explained briskly with a nod to the man, 'and we have another three in our company-'

'Four,' interrupted the man at her side with a smile and Nalia glanced over to him, alarmed to notice a small brown rodent sat eating the crumbs from his plate.

Jaheira's nostrils dilated slightly but she said nothing, eyes boring into hers as though daring Nalia to comment as well, and the girl merely nodded once.

'I can guarantee five hundred gold for the task, as well as whatever honours my father can bestow once our home is again under his control.'

The woman paused, clearly going over the sums in her head before nodding.

'That seems adequate,' she said dismissively, 'but you'll have to finalise things with our leader, Fritha.'

'_Your_ leader?' she repeated, the woman's imperious air putting her instantly in charge in Nalia's mind.

'Indeed. If she is here, she is in her room. Upstairs, second door on the left,' the woman finished curtly before turning back to her drink; a not so subtle indicator that the conversation, in her view at least, was over.

Nalia stood, a little taken aback by her abruptness, before crossing to the stairs, her mind racing as she ascended. They were both clearly odd by any evaluation of the fact. Was she putting her home in even more danger by hiring them? But that was assuming she had a choice. The coin she offered was not exactly a vast sum and they were the first group who had not outright dismissed her all day; could she risk refusing this offer knowing another may not be found for days yet?

_See their leader before you make the decision_, her mind counselled and she nodded to herself, hearing the wisdom of it.

But what sort of woman could lead _those_ two? An image of her formed behind her eyes. Tall with a strong build, her face, though worn and scarred by countless battles would still hold a proud beauty. Nalia had reached the door by now and paused a moment, slightly nervous about meeting the imposing figure she'd just invented, before she steeled herself and knocked boldly.

**...**

Fritha sighed and watched the pale amber down on her arms tremble with the breath. After leaving the others, she had done little more than buy a long rusty chainmail shirt before she had grown tired of shopping and returned to the inn. Settling on her bed to sew as soon as she'd got back, she had decided to take up the hems on her trousers in another vain attempt to fend off the heat. But the weather and her general despondence with the day meant she'd given up before she had even finished one leg, stretching out on the quilt to pillow her head on her arms and attempt to sleep the afternoon away; resolved to look for work once the sun had set. A knock at the door brought her from her dozing though, and she lifted her head slowly to croak, 'Come in.'

She had expected Jaheira or perhaps Aerie, and Fritha straightened with surprise as the door opened a fraction, just enough for a young woman with shoulder-length red hair and to peer inside. She saw Fritha and appeared to jump, letting go of the door as she did so and allowing it to swing open, revealing herself entirely. Realising this, the girl straightened and both she and Fritha took a moment to self-consciously tidy their appearances; the girl smoothing out well-cut travelling robes as Fritha sat up to straighten her tunic and attempt to tidy her hair.

'Ah, forgive my intrusion, I was looking for someone named Fritha.'

'And you have found her, please will you have seat?' she smiled, gesturing to the chair which was thankfully clear, surrounded by the chaos of supplies that covered the rest of her room. 'I must apologise for the mess; I am unused to the heat here, it makes me tired. Did Jaheira send you?'

Nalia nodded, the girl's familiarity unnerving her. This had to be some sort of mistake; this "_Fritha_" was barely older than she was! The girl said nothing more though, merely looked at her expectantly and, hesitantly, Nalia began.

'Yes. I- I am sorry, but after meeting- well, I had expected someone-'

The girl smiled, seeming to understand her. 'Jaheira is not herself at the moment… though Minsc _is_. -I take it you met Boo.'

'Sorry? Oh, the rodent. It is a pet?'

The girl smiled mildly. 'Something like that, yes. But I am sure you are not here to talk of that.'

'No,' she agreed, glad the conversation had returned to more familiar territory. 'My name is Nalia, Lady Nalia de'Arnise. My family's keep was laid siege to but two days ago, though I escaped and came to Athkatla to hire mercenaries to help us. I have searched since it was light, but have not had much luck so far.'

'Well, we shall help you if we can. Who has attacked your keep?'

Nalia opened her mouth and stopped. She couldn't tell her, could bear to have another refuse her when every moment left her home in danger.

'Well…'

The girl stared back, unrelenting. 'I appreciate you are worried, Nalia, but I cannot knowingly lead people into an undertaking without all the details; we may need more mercenaries or specialist kit. I am their leader; I have a responsibility to them. They will go where I ask, but I must prepare them as best as I possibly can. You understand, don't you?'

And she did. It was a lecture she had heard her father give Aunt Delcia many times. About how there would be no nobles without peasants, about how they were linked and both must serve each other: one through obedience and the other through rule. Nalia nodded once and found her voice.

'Trolls… and yuan-ti, I am unsure of the numbers. Perhaps thirty in all.'

She watched as the girl frowned slightly, and for one awful moment, she thought it would the same again; that she would apologise as the others had and tell her it was impossible.

'Right,' Fritha said at last, though more to herself than her, 'right, I'll need to go back to the market for incendiaries, but other than that… Do you have a room here?' she asked suddenly and Nalia felt her heart leap. It was confirmed; they would help her!

'N-No,' she stammered, suddenly unable to keep from smiling, 'no, I only arrived this morning.'

Fritha nodded once; her calm air of authority was heartening. 'Come, we can rent you one.'

'Really?' she exclaimed before she realised to her shame that Fritha may mean for _her_ to hire one. 'I mean it's rather embarrassing, but I don't actually have any money with-'

But the girl cut her off without a glance, rising from the bed to pull on her boots and lead the way back into the hall.

'It's quite all right. We can support you until the work is done.'

Nalia smiled warmly. 'I- I think my father will approve of you, Fritha.'

She did not turn, but Nalia could hear her smile as she continued on down the stairs. 'Well, someone has to.'

Fritha led the way to the bar, hiring a room for the girl before heading over to Jaheira and Minsc, the pair glancing up as they approached.

'Young Fritha,' greeted Minsc brightly, 'you have decided?'

'We have agreed to help,' she answered and the ranger's face split with a smile.

'Ah, Boo knew it would be so!'

'Do you often help people?' came Nalia's voice at her shoulder.

Fritha shrugged indifferently. 'When the need arises. Anomen and Aerie?' she continued, turning to Jaheira.

'The Order and the circus respectively.'

Fritha nodded, glancing back to the girl at her side.

'Right. Well, you will no doubt meet them later. In the meantime, Nalia, why don't you have a seat and explain your situation more fully to my friends.'

Jaheira glared up at her as Nalia sank obediently into the chair next to Minsc.

'And where are _you_ going?' the druid demanded, though Fritha pretended not to notice her tone.

'Back to the Promenade,' she answered briskly, no intention of letting anyone else come with her after the palaver of last time. 'I will see you all at dinner.'

And before another word could be spoken, she had turned on her heel and marched off.

xxx

Aerie strolled the sunlit streets, wending her way through the slums and its jostle of merchants and labourers as they too made their ways back home with the sunset, not that Aerie had any real fear of walking the streets after sundown. She had spent all afternoon at the circus, enjoying the familiarity of a place where she already belonged, just sat laughing and talking with Quayle and the others, at ease for the first time since she had left. But it was as the matinée show had been about to start, and everyone had been rushing about finding costumes and props, that had she realised her reluctance to leave and, despite their invitations for her to stay for dinner, she had made herself go, knowing if she did not then, she may have never again.

Aerie sighed as she pushed open the door of the Coronet; her new home, at least for the moment, crossing to take her usual table by the window and signal the waitress. To be honest, she should have no reason not to want to return to her group; they were all good, decent people. But they lacked the easy warmth of her old friends and Aerie felt awkward in their company: close enough to them to know of their loss, but too removed to mourn it with them.

She understood they had all seen and suffered much in the past tenday and were still suffering, but only the Rashemi showed any sign of recovery. Fritha seemed to try to be friendly, but it was as though she was always struggling to keep everything else afloat as well, the slow ebb and flow of daily life just wearing her away. And the druid was just getting worse, her isolated silences only broken by the occasional sharp remarks aimed at anyone within reach, though even _she_ was preferable to their most recent ally.

And as though her thoughts had provoked a malicious fate, at that very instant, the door banged open and Aerie was staring across the common room at the broad tall figure of the squire. She instantly dipped her head, but not before he'd noticed her, clearly glancing to the bar to see if any of the others were about before marching over to her table.

'Ah, Aerie, may I join you, my lady?'

Aerie nodded but said nothing; they were still strangers enough for propriety to rule her actions and she could not really refuse him. She lowered her eyes as Anomen helped himself to the seat opposite, giving his order to the waitress and they both sat in silence, the girl returning moments later to set dishes of soup and bread before them. Aerie dropped her attention immediately to her bowl, glad of the distraction as the silence over the table took on an awkward air. She may have only known Anomen a day in total, but she had not taken long to get an impression of the young man and, Aerie concluded, the only thing worse than having to _eat_ with him, would be having to _talk _to him.

Aerie was the first to admit she found it difficult to put herself forward with strangers, her voice coming quiet and hesitant. But all morning she had been forced to endure his contradictions, the man constantly cutting her off or talking over her as though her contribution was worthless. She could see what he was doing; the boy so full of self-doubt he sought any opportunity to promote himself, even relatively, as though pointing out her own faults would make him seem all the better by comparison to their new companions. But as much as she understood him, it still tended to make her nervous, which in turn, only made it _more_ difficult for her speak her own mind; sentences that sat fully formed in her throat having to be forced, in starts and stutters from hesitant lips.

Quayle and the others in the circus knew of her difficulties and always gave her a chance to speak. And it seemed Fritha and her friends were of the same mind, though Aerie realised that it may have not been entirely intentional on their part: none of them particularly talkative at the moment. Aerie glanced across the table to Anomen. She could have almost been sorry for him if she had not felt so wronged, and she sent him a scowl just to be sure to remind herself. However, his gaze was still on his dish and she took a moment to watch him unobserved, taking in the lightly tanned-skin, dark brown hair and neat beard; his usual Amnian colouring challenged only by his eyes, which were a startling shade of light blue. Aerie crinkled her nose.

He _was_ handsome, she concluded, but in a very human sort of way, all broad and loud and certainly not her ideal by any means.

He glanced up, catching her eye to give her a questioning look and Aerie let her face fall into an expression of innocent neutrality, though it did not quite fend off his curiosity.

'You have a question for me?'

'N-No,' she stuttered, dipping her face as she felt the blush surge; she had never been any good at lying, 'I- I was merely wondering where our new friends will lead us in the world.'

The man beamed, though it looked very smug from where she was sitting.

'Oh, of course, you do not yet know who they are, do you? Worry not, elf, for we are surely on the path to greatness. Our companions are no less than those who saved Baldur's Gate but a month ago.'

'Oh r-really? Well, I- I don't mind what they've previously done-'

'They saved your circus!' he cut-in indignantly, as though he had had a hand in it.

'Yes, and why?' Aerie snapped, her voice coming shrill and unbroken in her irritation at another interruption. 'Not for gold or glory, but because a scared little boy approached them outside and asked them to find his mother!'

Anomen snorted, though propriety stifled any other comment as the girl went back to her food. Fritha merely _learnt_ of the circus through the boy, sensing the evil at work there and knowing it could not be allowed to continue unchecked. He could hardly believe the elf's naivety, though it suited her; complementing the long golden tresses and innocent blue eyes all too well. There was no denying the girl was fair, but her attitude gave her away as one far too young for the horrors they would no doubt soon be facing. By her reticent nature, Anomen could tell her life in the circus had been sheltered and he questioned the wisdom of allowing her to join with them; in situations of danger, she would most likely be a liability rather than a help.

'I beg your pardon,' came a voice at his shoulder, starting him from his thoughts, and he looked up as the elf did to see an attractive young woman stood before them, straight auburn hair just brushing her shoulders, her face pale and lightly freckled, 'but are you Aerie and Anomen?'

'That we are, my lady.'

'Oh, I thought the descriptions Jaheira gave me matched- may I?' she continued amiably, gesturing to the seat between them, making no further mention of what the druid had said, and Anomen knew enough to surmise it may not have been complimentary.

'I am Nalia de'Arnise. Fritha has agreed you are to help rout the attack on my keep.'

'Nalia…' he repeated, sure the name was familiar to him, smiling as he suddenly recalled it. 'Why, I have heard of you! Are you not the young noblewoman who spends all her time slumming?'

Her hazel eyes flashed and he could see Aerie smirking into her bowl.

'I do not_ slum_!' the girl corrected archly, and looking as though it was taking a formidable restraint to stop at that, 'I _help_ people. Has Fritha returned from the market yet?' she continued, her voice milder as she turned pointedly from him to the elf, 'I would know our plans for the morrow.'

'I- I don't know,' Aerie answered quietly, 'I have only just returned myself.'

A silence seemed to descend upon the table; the idea that it was aimed at him making Anomen even more uncomfortable than usual, and at last he drew a breath and volunteered to go and check.

He left the table, heading for the stairs with the distinct impression his ears should be burning, though he resisted the temptation to glance back to the pair. Why Fritha had allowed two such girls to join with them, he could not understand. Even _Aerie_ would be of more use than a young noblewoman with no martial training! Perhaps Fritha merely judged all by her own standards, for she seemed more than capable and was of a comparable age. Still, he feared it was a mistake; maybe he should mention it to her. But he questioned the thought as soon as it surfaced. Fritha did not seem to be particularly approachable at the moment, he considered, recalling the tired look she'd given him when he'd shown her the cuirass that morning. Not that he had meant for her to buy it, by any means, he had merely wished to start a rapport with the girl.

Anomen frowned slightly. Fritha was clearly still recovering from her capture and he tried to sympathise, but that left _him _in the company of two petulant young girls, a woman who hardly deigned to speak with him and a man who insisted on spending half any conversation in conference with a hamster! He had reached her door by now, knocking lightly on the wood and finding himself hoping she was in, if only so he did not have to return to the women alone.

'My lady?'

'Yes?' came the muffled reply and he pushed the door open, peering into the empty room.

'My lady?'

'I'm out here,' she called and it was only then he noticed the open window.

He crossed the room in a couple of strides, leaning out to find her sat upon the roof next to it, feet wedged in the rusted guttering as she gazed out over the cityscape.

'What are you doing?' he questioned with frown, and she did not turn to him as she answered.

'Just looking for something I've lost.'

He followed her eyes back to the horizon, across the jumble of rooftops to where the sea could be seen shimmering under the dying sun.

'Have you found it?' he asked, quite at a loss for anything else to say, but she merely exhaled deeply and shrugged.

'Not really. Here,' she continued, finally turning to him with a hand outstretched expectantly and he helped her inside, 'you wanted to see me?'

'Yes, the Lady Nalia has approach Aerie and I downstairs, explaining our alliance, and she would know our plans for the morrow.'

Fritha made no immediate reply though and he took the time to add tentatively, 'she is most anxious.'

Fritha sighed again. Come and tell them the plans; oh, how formal everything had suddenly become. She should not have been surprised. Jaheira was the only real voice left among them now and she had withdrawn completely since… Fritha closed her eyes; a mistake really, as all she saw in the darkness was that mangled corpse, Jaheira's sobs echoing about her.

'My lady?'

Anomen was still there and now staring at her with clear concerns about her mental stability. She smiled as warmly as she could.

'Yes. Yes, of course. I shall come now.'


	5. Playing for keeps

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Playing for keeps**

Fritha stood at the door, her room laid out before her; still and empty, and lit only by the grey light that poured through the window as the city waited for dawn. One final glance about her to ensure she had everything, one final moment to enjoy the solitude, before she shouldered her pack with a sigh and made her way downstairs. She had done her duty last night, sitting in the bar and chatting with the group about her, answering their questions with a confidence she certainly didn't feel. Minsc had been a help once he'd arrived though, explaining in detail their situation and Irenicus' immanent demise by their hand with an enthusiasm that bordered on psychotic.

She could see him now as she reached the foot of the stairs, stood at least half a head taller than any other in the tavern, not that he'd much competition then: the large room practically empty at that time of the morning. She smiled as she watched the way his eyes lingered over the elf before him. The ranger seemed to have taken Fritha's orders in the circus to heart, for she noticed he still took a protective stance with Aerie even now, though he hardly watched her as he had Dynaheir. The girl herself was still packing her bag, Nalia hovering anxiously at her arm, already packed and ready to leave. Anomen seemed nervous as well, though he was concealing it much better, stood by the door with his shield slung across his back as she had seen Khalid carry his many times before.

Fritha's breath caught at the unexpected thought of the man, but she concealed it behind a yawn, bringing a sleeve up to her face to hide both. Jaheira was stood next to him and she wondered if the druid had noticed it too, though either way she was glad to see her. Jaheira had not made an appearance the night before, but it had not been entirely unexpected and Fritha had spoken with the girl at the bar, arranging for some dishes to be sent up to her room, not seeing why the woman should have to choose between the sufferings of company or hunger. Jaheira glanced up at that moment, almost as though her thoughts had provoked her, a frown already creasing her brow as Fritha approached.

'_What_ are you wearing?' the woman exclaimed by way of greeting, drawing all eyes to her and Fritha glanced down. Her tunic was the plain blue one the druid had seen a hundred times before, so she assumed her fuss was due to her loose linen trousers and, more specifically, the fact they now ended at her mid-calf, her feet looking overly large and pale in the new sandals.

'Clothes,' she answered with forced briskness, hoping to indicate that it was _not_ a topic for discussion. It was strange how things changed. There had been a time not so long ago when such attention drawn to herself would have had her scarlet within seconds, but now it hardly seemed to register.

One final check of equipment and route, and they left, passing under the arches of the city gates in time for the dawn, heading eastwards into the rising sun as they began the day's walk through the forests to Nalia's home.

It turned out to be another hot fine day, though the shade of the trees took the edge from the heat and Fritha found some peace in the walk, glad to be out of a city that, so far, held only bad memories for her. And so she walked along, following Minsc as he found their path and letting her gaze drift along with her thoughts, falling upon absent friends as they willed, but also on some unfamiliar plant or bird call. Of course, Imoen would come to her more often than most, but there was nothing to be done in mere thoughts of her friend. Fritha had her goal, albeit a distant one, and now the responsibility of Imoen's rescue lay on her, misery was just another luxury she could not afford.

Fritha sighed, losing herself in the whisper of the trees and the chatter of Nalia and Aerie behind her. The girls had become instant friends, something which served only to please her, as, rather selfishly, it meant she did not feel responsible for providing company for either of them. Anomen seemed to have settled in well enough too and was currently leading the way with Minsc, though he did occasionally keep glancing back to her with a concerned look, and that too was a pleasing distraction, Fritha entertaining herself with wondering what Minsc and Boo were telling the poor boy.

She felt she sensed a change in Jaheira as well, the druid always more at ease with herself when out in natural world. The woman was walking just ahead of her, eyes half closed and Fritha considered she might be praying when she stopped suddenly, glancing back to catch her eye and Fritha sent her a slight smile, Jaheira slowing her pace to join her.

'Cool enough for you?' she asked with a nod to her white, sandaled and now slightly muddy feet, and Fritha smiled, hearing the slight tinge of disapproval that was still lingering about the issue and deciding to ignore it.

'Yes, thank you. It's nice to be out of the city's glare, don't you think?'

Jaheira snorted at her double meaning and did not try to disguise her appraising look, though her tone was casual. 'You seem in better spirits today.'

'As do you… it is easier when you're doing something, isn't it?'

The woman watched her a moment longer before nodding, turning her attention back to their path.

'Yes. Yes, it is. Ah, I think our knightling would have words with you.'

Fritha glanced up to notice Anomen had dropped back slightly, pausing as they drew level and falling into step with them, Fritha between the two and wondering what Minsc had finally said to drive him into seeking their company.

'Ladies,' he greeted. The women shared a look.

'Anomen.'

A moment of silence followed where Anomen stared across her to Jaheira, seeming to expect the woman to excuse herself, but the druid merely returned his look impassively and in the end he seemed to realise the conversation would be in front of her or not at all.

'My lady,' he began stalwartly, returning his attention to her with a smile.

'Fritha,' she interjected, though he seemed not to notice the interruption.

'My lady, we have travelled together a short while now and I am surprised that you have yet to ask me of my travels ere we met. I would have thought it would be of importance to know the experiences of those you will later enter battle with.'

Fritha stared at him a moment. She had hardly shared a dozen words with him since they met and, to be brutally honest, what he had been doing beforehand was at the bottom of a very long list of her current concerns. Fritha sighed; aware she should not be taking out her melancholy on any of the newcomers.

'Then tell me, if you wish.'

'There is precious little to tell-'

'_Then why bring it up?_' she heard Jaheira mutter at her side and suppressed a smile with some difficulty.

'-although my few adventures have been glorious indeed,' Anomen continued reassuringly, as though worried she doubted it. 'The path to knighthood is a long one, however, hence the need for my travels. But a few of my deeds have reached the ears of bards.'

Fritha _did_ smile at that, wondering what sort of songs a conversation with Anomen would inspire.

'Battle is commonplace enough throughout Amn, and the Order has fielded its army many times in recent years. Most recently, however, let me think…' He made a show of stroking his beard a moment, apparently lost in thought, and Fritha glanced to Jaheira who scowled. 'Ah yes, I was with our men when the orcs came down into the Ommlur Hills once again. In great numbers they are a force to fear, but individually they are no match for a warrior. I, myself, was able to fight through many of them and take the head of one of their foul chieftains.'

'Oh… that sounds very… impressive,' said Fritha, hiding her bewilderment behind a wan smile. What had suddenly prompted all this she was not sure, but his intensity was unmistakable and Fritha wondered who he wanted to convince more, her or himself. But Anomen merely beamed, her words seeming to bolster him and he continued with conviction.

'Aye, it has been a struggle to prove my worth to the Order. I wish nothing more than to ride into battle with the crest of Radiant Heart flying over my head. But I speak too much of my own deeds, one would think me preoccupied with pride.'

'_Never,_' muttered Jaheira at her ear and Fritha snorted, unexpectedly amused, hiding her face in her sleeve and trying to disguise it as coughing as Anomen gave her a suspicious glance.

'I would not blame you were you not interested in my tales of prowess,' he conceded; her 'coughing' was obviously fooling no one. 'I am interested in hearing something of yours, however. I have been told a little of your deeds in the Sword Coast, albeit they do sound quite fanciful and exaggerated.'

Oh, _now_ they had the truth of it; he had found out who they were.

Suddenly Anomen's behaviour did not seem so odd and Fritha glanced up to find him watching her, as though waiting for her to cry 'Slander!' and correct him with a few heady tales of adventure.

'Is that so?' she mumbled, taking a sudden and keen interest in her fingernails -Baldur's Gate was the _last_ place she wanted to be reminded of. Anomen, though, was undeterred.

'Well, perhaps you could tell-'

'Why are you so interested in tales you have already stated you believe are little more than lies?' cut in Jaheira sharply, Fritha sending her a reproachful look as Anomen went pink. But the druid ignored both, taking Fritha's arm and quickening her pace to drag the girl with her, Fritha sending Anomen an apologetic glance over her shoulder that he returned with a healthy scowl. Well, she'd tried.

'How can you stand talking to that conceited idiot?' Jaheira snarled the instant they were out of earshot, releasing her arm to walk at a normal pace and Fritha sighed.

'Jaheira…I just think he's nervous. He's heard all about our _glorious adventures_ up in the Gate. I expect he thinks he has to prove himself.'

'With what? His _embellished_ accounts of his own adventures or his accusations that we have done the same?'

Fritha sincerely doubted his words had offended Jaheira in the slightest. But the past was a painful place for the druid at the moment and, as usual, it seemed she was reacting to her grief just as she reacted to every other strong emotion: blind fury. Fritha smiled gently, trying to return to the camaraderie they had shared before Anomen's unintentional disruption.

'Think of your Balance, Jaheira, there has to be arrogant people like Anomen in the world to balance out all the humble people.'

'Lecture me not on what you have little understanding of, girl! Not even in jest! _And_ let me assure you that there are more than enough arrogant idiots wandering about the Realms to tip the scales _well _in their favour!'

Fritha frowned slightly; she had promised herself she would keep patience with them all that day. It wasn't even noon and already she was tired with the effort.

'That may well as be, but I doubt any comments to the fact from you will make Anomen more amicable. Be nice, Jaheira…'

The woman scowled. 'It is not in my nature to indulge others' idiocy.'

Fritha forced a smile, her voice even. 'Well, this will be an excellent opportunity for you to practise then.'

But Jaheira clearly didn't think so, for she stormed to the head of the group for a short argument with a bewildered Minsc and was still walking next to him in stony silence over two hours later. Fritha found it very hard to care. It was far more rewarding to simply enjoy the peace than attempt to keep it and she merely followed them, vaguely contemplating the various tactics for attacking a siege camp and taking pleasure in the shade.

'My lady?' came a voice and she glanced up to find Anomen had fallen into step with her, his eyes fixed resolutely on the path ahead as he continued.

'I have been thinking on our conversation before, on how the tales of you from the North seemed rather farfetched. I was not discounting the stories entirely. I know I can seem awkward with words sometimes, Fritha, and I… I meant no disrespect in what I said.'

Fritha shook her head with a smile; ah, he was all right really. 'It's fine, Anomen, some tales do grow with the telling.'

'Yes, yes quite,' he agreed earnestly, seizing on the idea with a genial laugh, 'I mean some of the stories I've heard have you saving Baldur's Gate and averting the impending war!'

'Do they really?' she answered mildly, but on seeing the uncertainty in his look she shook her head and stopped to face him. 'It's true, Anomen, we saved the Gate. How we got around to it was overly complex: all bounty hunters and Grand Dukes. But yes, we killed the one who was trying to start a war with Amn.'

Fritha sighed, turning back to their path; it all sounded so mundane when she put it like that. Anomen was clearly disappointed and she felt a twinge of guilt. Perhaps she could have told him a story of their time in the Gate, but even thinking back to it now brought a lump to her throat. They had all been together back then. Khalid and Dynaheir had been alive, Imoen never far from her side and she just couldn't bear to relive something she knew was gone forever.

Anomen did not try to catch up with her again and she walked the last few hours alone once more, though much less peacefully, her mind finding it difficult to settle again once such memories had been stirred up.

xxx

It was late afternoon when Nalia approached her, the elf at her elbow, to explain they would be arriving at the keep before long and Fritha halted the group soon after, sending Jaheira and Minsc to scout ahead, though their findings were not as expected.

'There's no siege?' Fritha repeated as Minsc stood before her, gravely shaking his head, and she tried to quell her sudden dread. 'But what do you mean?'

'I would have thought _that _obvious,' muttered Jaheira, but Fritha ignored her, instead turning to Nalia, the girl pale under her freckles.

'No siege?' she murmured, looking distant, 'they surely would not have just left, unless…'

And suddenly she was off, flying through the undergrowth heedless of their cries.

'Nalia, wait!'

Fritha caught her just at the edge of the clearing, the castle standing tall and silent before them with banners lowered and drawbridge raised.

'Oh no! Oh gods, they've taken the keep!' Nalia cried, but Fritha hadn't even the chance to draw breath for some words of comfort, when the girl continued earnestly, pointing north through the trees to a small wooden compound. 'Come, there's a palisade up ahead, perhaps he escaped.'

They carried on, though much more sedately at Fritha's insistence, giving the others a chance to catch up, and the group entered the palisade more or less as one.

Inside, men sat and lay in varying degrees of injury, though no soldier had escaped unscathed it seemed, Aerie and Jaheira moving over to the worst as soon as they entered as Fritha stepped forward with Nalia. Most of the men just stared up at them, doing nothing to disturbed the heavy air of defeat, though one rose stiffly to greet them, battered plumed helmet under his bandaged arm.

'Lady Nalia!' he cried, clearly surprised to see her, before propriety seemed to catch him and he bowed, Nalia gathering up her skirts for a slight curtsey; an observance of the formalities still had a place there, whatever had happened.

'Arat, these are the mercenaries I hired to help us,' she explained, sweeping a hand across their group, 'Fritha, this is Captain Arat.'

The man straightened and they shook hands. 'Arat, lady, commander of the garrison.'

Fritha nodded politely. 'Well met, sir, when did this happen?'

'Sometime last night. We were breached somehow through the cellars. We fought room by room to keep the place, but once Lord de'Arnise disappeared it was hopeless and we had battle enough to lead what few men remained out.'

Nalia swallowed, her mask of the commanding young noblewomen slipping. 'Father disappeared? But you did not see him fall?' she pressed, looking slightly relieved as the captain shook his head.

'I did not, lady. As far as I know, both he and your Aunt are still alive within the keep. I was hoping they would demand a ransom for my Lord; even trolls must realise his value, but we have had no word as yet…'

Fritha swallowed, very aware of the time that had passed since the keep fell; still, _she_ had come through worse.

'Right,' she began, turning to Nalia, 'is there any other way in bar the main gates?'

The girl nodded once. 'Yes, I know of one. I would use it to sneak out of the keep…' she smiled ruefully, 'when I wanted to escape Aunt Delcia's rules. Come, I'll show you.'

Fritha nodded, returning her attention the captain.

'Okay, have your men ready. We'll enter, secure the ground floor and courtyard then open the gates. Your men can hold the lower floors and guard our rear as we advance through the keep. The castle will be ours again by sunrise.'

Arat saluted, looking somewhat lifted and Fritha nodded once, wishing she felt as confident as she sounded as she turned to follow the others out. After a quick scan of the battlements, Nalia led them across to an overgrown section of bushes along the west wall, a narrow sally-port concealed within. The stone of the door matched so well with the surrounding frame Fritha would have passed it by had it not been pointed out to her and she watched as the girl stooped before it a moment, deftly picking the lock, before the door swung forward without a sound.

'Now, don't worry,' began Fritha gently, turning to Nalia as the others filed through the doorway behind her. 'Just return to the palisade; I shall send news out to you with Captain Arat once the gates are open.'

'Wait!' the girl cried, catching her sleeve as she went to turn, 'I wish to come too.'

Fritha frowned, but more with concern than any real impatience and she could already feel the heat of disapproving eyes on her back.

'Nalia…'

'No,' the girl interjected with an authoritarian tone Jaheira would have been proud of, 'I have hired you, I will hear of nothing else!'

But Fritha sent her a measured look and the pretence died instantly.

'Fritha, please,' she implored, anxiously wringing her hands, 'I know the layout and can pick any lock in the keep… please,' she continued, her voice growing softer, 'he's my father.'

'Oh, all right,' Fritha sighed at last, sending up a prayer to anyone listening that she did not regret this later, 'can you fight?'

'Well, I can use a bow.' Nalia smiled tentatively. 'I'm a rather good shot actually.'

Fritha laughed in spite of herself; the girl's modesty was warming.

'Right, then. Minsc,' she began, holding out her hand expectantly and he passed her the short bow from his shoulder, 'this is the company bow; please take care of it, it's the only one we have.'

Nalia smiled as she took it, Minsc ready with a quiver of arrows as Fritha continued, 'Now you're to stay at the back of the group with Aerie, I do _not_ want you in the melee. I can't see your father being too pleased if we free the keep and lose you in the process.' Fritha grinned, stepping back slightly to include them all. 'Everyone ready? All right, Nalia, lead on.'

Fritha followed the girl with the rest of them into the dim stone room, the comparative coolness of the air leaving her skin bristling and she was glad for the cramped conditions as they all crowed in, waiting for Nalia to unlock the next door. Once opened, she lead them onward, along a narrow passageway and through another door into what looked to be a storeroom; the walls piled high with dusty chests and old furniture, though it hardly registered when sprawled upon his back in the centre of the floor, half eaten corpse was staring slack-faced at the ceiling.

Nalia drew a sharp breath and turned away, religious mutterings coming from the more pious members still behind her as Minsc crouched down to confirm it had indeed been the work of trolls. Nalia seemed to have transcended pale and now almost matched the pallid stone walls that surrounded them, though her countenance remain firm. Fritha shook her head; the sooner they left there, the better.

'Right,' she said loudly, casting an eye over the two other doors, 'where does-'

'Here, what's goin-?' cut in a gruff voice behind and she turned with the others to see a stooped old man in the left-hand doorway, his eyes wide beneath woolly brows. 'Lady Nalia! You have returned!'

'Daleson!' the girl cried, almost starting forward as though to embrace him, before decorum caught her and she straightened stiffly. 'Are any of the other servants with you?'

'Yes, lady,' he replied, nodding eagerly all the while, 'Peter, Luk, the two chambermaids, Abbey and Charlotte, and old Elise, the cook. Others got out before the keep fell- though it seems poor Aul wasn't so lucky,' he added darkly, gesturing to their feet.

Nalia chose to ignore this, deliberately not looking at the body.

'Well, _you_ are safe, so that's something at least. Have you any news of my father?'

Daleson's face fell and Nalia looked stricken. 'I have news, lady, but…'

'Gods, man! Speak!' she snapped, her composure wavering.

'I saw him this morning. Alive, but being taken down into the cellars by one of the trolls.'

Nalia turned away, silent, and Fritha stepped up to fill the breach.

'The cellars. Right, we'll clear out this floor and then head down. Are you all in there?' she questioned, moving to the door behind him as Daleson nodded. Fritha peered inside, five sets of wide eyes looking back at her from the gloom.

'Only one way in…' she considered aloud. Well, it was as safe a place as any. 'Right,' she continued, turning back to Daleson, 'if we find anyone else we'll send them here. Once we've opened the gate, I'll tell Captain Arat you're here and he can get you outside safely. And push something in front of the door once we're gone. Nalia, what's through here?'

The girl started, but rallied instantly, crossing to an old table to draw in the dust as she spoke. 'The great hall with access through to the kitchens and the courtyard.'

'Okay, we'll secure the hall and kitchens, take the courtyard and open the gates. Any problems, and we fall back here. Understood?'

Murmurs of assent travelled the group, everyone reading weapons; Anomen swinging the tower shield down from his back as Nalia adjusted her finger guards. Fritha moved slowly to the door, drew a breath and threw it open.


	6. Inside the walls

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

Apologies for the delay. It seems USB storage devices do not appreciate being put into washing machines. Quel surprise.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Inside the walls**

Battle raged in the great hall, the fighting fierce amongst the debris of broken chairs and torn banners, a long heavy table that ran the room's length the only furniture still intact. They had tried to keep together, but the group had already been split in two, Jaheira, Minsc and Aerie being forced further down the hall. Jaheira was sweeping her staff in graceful arcs, landing crushing blows to heads and limbs, Minsc swinging his broadsword at anything unlucky enough to come within reach, while Aerie stood behind them, working frantically to gather her energies for another spell.

The others had managed to hold on at the doors though; Fritha, Anomen and Nalia crushed together by the doorway and keeping their only means of retreat open should the battle move against them. Anomen using mace and shield to hold back the horde, Nalia firmly behind and firing shots past him, while Fritha danced back and forth, making quick forays out from the arc of his shield.

'Here, watch out!' cried Fritha behind him as Anomen took the nearest troll's jaw clean away and almost knocked her senseless with the back swing; things were much easier holding a line.

The squire hadn't time to consider this further though. Jaheira had been split away from Minsc and Aerie, being pushed further into the room's centre as she struggled to hold off a troll and two yuan-ti. The druid had wounded one, but could do little else while guarding attacks from the other two. Anomen, however, was not the only one to have noticed.

Just a moment to glance to them and cry, 'Hold the doors,' and Fritha was gone, the girl throwing herself into the horde with a zeal that bordered on suicidal and disappearing from view.

'Anomen!' came a scream behind him and he glanced back to see a smaller troll drop from the chandelier. He brought his shield up just in time, throwing it off and Nalia put an arrow through it before it had even hit the ground.

He pulled his attention back to the battle. Jaheira looked to be getting desperate and he strained to see a glimpse of copper in the throng. Where _was_ Fritha?

Jaheira cursed angrily, another strike against her deflected just in time. She had finally managed to finish the wounded yuan-ti, but not without a cost to herself; her position now even less favourable as she found herself hemmed in against the table, holding back the final pair with little chance for retreat. She swung her staff out low, defending against the yuan-ti's blow to her legs and ready to dodge the troll's swipe at her face, when a sudden shout, and Fritha was on the table behind her. The troll hadn't even the chance to turn, the girl immediately bringing her blade down with enough force to split its skull, struggling to free her sword as she shouted orders to the rest of them.

'Anomen, move across the doors. Jaheira, fall back to Minsc. Ae-'

Her voice was lost to a curse, a small black troll dropping down at her from a shredded tapestry, only to be taken clean out of the air by a well placed arrow.

'Thanks, Nalia,' she yelled, swinging round to defend against another whose attention she had caught, Jaheira finishing the remaining yuan-ti and finally retreating back towards Minsc. Suddenly energy tore through the air, striking the troll Fritha was fighting dead, only to rebound off the wall behind, barely missing Anomen.

'Sorry!' came Aerie's plaintive cry, though the elf was already halfway to casting another, hands a blur.

'Helm's beard, girl!' he shouted, dodging it and moving straight into the range of the nearest troll. He threw up his shield to take the blow, the unexpected force knocking him off balance and he crashed into the table at his back to send Fritha sprawling. For one awful moment everything seemed to stop, the troll looming above them both, when another spell was released to strike it square in the back and the creature crumpled where it stood, the smell of singed flesh hanging in the suddenly silent air.

'Well,' began Fritha, picking herself up to cast an eye over the carnage; apart from a bit of hurt pride and her sore throat from all the shouting, she thought that had gone surprisingly well. But all were not in agreement it seemed.

'Anomen, kindly take into account there are others around you when flailing about with that mace of yours!' Jaheira snapped, eyes blazing. The cleric glowered down at her in silence, hefting the weapon slightly as though he would have liked nothing better than to knock her over the head with it. But the woman barely noticed, instantly whirling to the elf behind her, 'and Aerie, did you even _consider_ who you were intending to hit before wildly sending spells into your comrades?'

'Jaheira!' Fritha interrupted crossly as the girl flushed and turned away. The woman scowled at her, but said no more and Fritha bit back a sigh, continuing more brightly.

'All right, so far, so good -leave the bodies,' she added to Minsc as the ranger made a move towards the corpse of the nearest troll, 'we've about an hour before they regenerate, so we'll burn them all together in the courtyard. Now everyone pair off and check the adjoining rooms. Come on, Jaheira, we'll take the kitchens.'

Jaheira shot her a look but followed all the same, Fritha moving into the hallway and cautiously opening the door at the end as the others dispersed behind them. The room lay gloomy and still though, the shutters closed and barred across the high windows and the only light was from an old arrow slit above the huge range, clearly left open for ventilation. Baskets of dried meat and fruit were overturned and pans littered the floor, though the room was thankfully clear of bodies and Fritha picked her way through the chaos with a sigh; she may as well get this over with.

Jaheira had been irascible ever since their escape, something she and Minsc merely accepted as part of the woman's grieving. But the others were understandably less sympathetic, especially as time wore on, and she sensed tensions were building. Fritha could appreciate Jaheira's impatience, but any more outbursts and their companions' inexperience would no longer be a problem, for the simple fact they would not have any.

'I understand it's frustrating,' Fritha began, drawing her sword to carefully lift the baskets at her feet, 'the way everyone is still getting used to each other and the way we all fight, but I don't think shouting at them is the answer.'

'No?' Jaheira snapped promptly, making no pretence of checking the room as she stood only a step or so from the door, hands firmly on her hips. 'Should I just keep silent then, let them carry on with their foolishness until someone is killed?'

Fritha sighed, sheathing her sword as she turned to face her.

'Of course not, but there are better ways of going about it. They are new to this group, this life; there's bound to be some difficulties in the beginning.' She smiled gently, 'just try to be a bit more patient with them.'

'_More_ patient?' the woman repeated incredulously, her brow furrowing as she continued angrily, 'the way you must tiptoe around everyone is pathetic! Why you allowed them to join with us in the first instance is beyond me.'

'Well, it wasn't as though we had much of a choice!' Fritha snapped, instantly feeling guilty. Fritha admitted she'd had her doubts to begin with, but the newcomers had done nothing yet to warrant her scorn and she had not meant to sound as though she agreed with the woman. But, either way, couldn't Jaheira see this was about something so much more than just them? Imoen was in danger and whether their companions were ideal or not, they could not raise the money for her release alone.

'But that is beside the point,' Fritha sighed, unsure of what she was saying even as she spoke, 'your manner, Jaheira, is causing real friction within the group, and… and if it continues then…' She trailed off, the sentence hanging in the air between them. She could not finish the ultimatum; any provocation to the woman's pride and she may as well just _tell_ Jaheira to go. Fritha dipped her head, her heart suddenly pounding. '…then I worry what will happen.'

Jaheira remained silent and Fritha glanced up slowly, not sure what to expect and was surprised to find the woman was not even looking at her, but gazing instead to the old arrow slit and the sliver of clear blue sky beyond. Fritha sighed to herself. It was so difficult, knowing the right thing to say and when. The druid had shrugged off her 'worthless pity' when they had first discovered Khalid in the dungeons, and would hear no comfort from anyone. At the time, leaving her alone to deal with her grief had seemed for the best, but Fritha wondered that if perhaps she had forced the point then, or soon afterwards, things wouldn't be a whole lot better between them now.

She watched the woman, still deliberately staring at the sky, her form tense. Perhaps all she needed was a reminder that whatever was happening, someone still cared deeply for her.

'Jaheira, I know I never said this, but-'

A shrill cry followed by an almighty crash cut her off and Fritha nearly screamed with frustration as the druid instantly left for the source.

'Oh, _Hells_!'

But by the time Fritha arrived, the crisis was well over, everyone in the northern storeroom and gathered about the body of a large dark green troll. The fact half its skull was missing and the way Anomen was hefting his mace giving her quite enough of an explanation as to what had happened, though Nalia saw fit to inform her anyway.

'We were checking the room when it leapt out from behind those banners. It dodged my arrow, but it wasn't so lucky with Anomen.'

The squire looked as though he was fighting desperately against a grin and Fritha had to bite back a laugh.

'Good work,' she smiled, 'are all the other rooms checked?'

Murmurs of assent all round and Fritha glanced to Jaheira who purposefully avoided her eye.

_Later…_ she promised herself, before returning her attention to the rest of them.

'Right, with this floor secure, our next objective is to take the courtyard. We'll leave by the eastern doors- they're the ones nearest the steps, aren't they?' she added with a glance to Nalia, who nodded. 'Jaheira and Anomen stay at the doorway and be ready to retreat and bar the doors should you be overwhelmed; we can't risk loosing the keep again. Nalia and Aerie, I need you two behind them and providing cover for Minsc and I.'

'And what will _you_ be doing?' demanded the druid. Fritha grinned.

'We're going to open the gates.'

Fritha knew the courtyard would be bad, but even then she was left breathless at the sheer carnage that had been wrought there, the corpses of guards and servants carelessly trampled by the trolls and yuan-ti that milled about, grazing as they willed. A moment of almost stunned silence followed their appearance, before the air erupted as battle cries were screamed on both sides, Anomen and Jaheira stepping up, the two girls ready behind them with spell and bow as creatures pressed in on all sides. Fritha couldn't afford to be pinned there though, barely sparing Minsc a glance as she dashed out from behind the line and straight into an approaching yuan-ti. Anomen stepped up behind, taking a blow meant for her across his shield as she dodged left, slashing it neatly across the mid-section as she passed and flying up the steps to the battlements.

The delay had allowed Minsc to pass her though, and she ran along the wall to catch him, the man already at the gatehouse and shouting something to the captain waiting beneath. She reached him mere seconds later, kicking out the chocks and throwing all her weight into the wheel of the drawbridge, her shoulder braced painfully against one of the spokes. It didn't budge.

'Minsc,' she gasped, still struggling in vain, 'I can't- here, you try.'

She stepped back, allowing the larger man in to apply his strength to the wheel, glancing quickly back to the courtyard to check on the group by the door. But they were holding their own and she immediately returned her attention to the battlements, whirling just in time to parry a blow, a huge troll suddenly looming behind her. She staggered back, realising too late she should have kept her attention on the walls. It slashed at her again and she dodged left into the shelter of the spokes, its blow missing her to hit the wheel. A tortured shriek and suddenly the axel was spinning freely, Minsc leaping back with a shout as Fritha threw herself to the ground just in time to prevent being knocked senseless, rolling away from the troll to rise in crouch and cleave off a leg, Minsc catching its fall to finish it with a slash to the torso.

The crash as the drawbridge landed rang through the courtyard, but even that was drowned out by the roar of the waiting soldiers as they poured in, and Fritha was sure she felt the gatehouse tremble beneath her from the stampede. She picked herself up to peer over the battlements, the sun hot on her back as she watched the last of the invaders fall. Her nose was bleeding; she didn't care. Minsc glanced down to her with a grin, the rest of their group looking bloodied but whole by the doorway and she was filled with a sudden joy.

They had done it. The keep was theirs!

xxx

Jaheira stood in the courtyard with Aerie, the troll fires making the afternoon heat almost unbearable, their smoke hanging in the air in long acrid tendrils. Nalia was still inside with Anomen, directing the men they would leave behind, while Minsc and Fritha were securing the drawbridge, fixing the chains that held it so even if they were overrun once more, their escape route would remain clear. Jaheira glanced up to the battlements as a triumphant laugh signalled they'd finished, and she watched the pair clatter down the steps to join her, Minsc with a red welt across his cheek that would no doubt develop into the most vivid black eye, Fritha sporadically licking at the blood still tricking from her nose, and both of them looking thoroughly pleased with themselves.

Jaheira straightened at their approach, a sudden anger at the pair filling her, their smiles a mockery of the sick dread she herself felt. Both of them wounded, and in such a way as could have been much worse with but a fraction's leeway…

Aerie fluttered at her elbow, eyes trained on Fritha's bloody face. 'Oh, are you okay?'

'Fine, fine,' she answered, dismissing the elf with a wave of her hand, 'see to Minsc. I don't want that cut swelling up and impairing his vision.'

Aerie nodded and Jaheira watched as she led the taller man back into the keep, not trusting herself to turn to the girl still behind her until she had calmed. The ranger was addled enough to be forgiven such behaviour, but Fritha had no such excuse! Any moment in there could bring their deaths, why was she not taking the situation seriously? Jaheira had wanted to say something earlier in the kitchens, explain to her that her actions were born from nothing but the desire to see her safe and not a victim of others' faults. But then the girl had begun her ultimatum and it had been all she could do not to march out and quit her company then and there.

Fritha may be happy enough to give the others room for error, but to do so when the situation was already so dangerous was suicide. That she could be so blind, so stubborn! Didn't she realise all it took was one mistake, one moment of lapse to claim a life! Jaheira swallowed, a sudden lump in her throat as she turned to find Fritha at her feet, crouched next to one of the bodies that still littered the courtyard, delicate amber curls trembling in the breeze as she stared blankly at his face. He was young and looked peaceful in death and the girl moved a hand up to lower his visor, Jaheira turning suddenly away.

They had already lost so much and she wouldn't, _couldn't_ lose anyone else, not so soon after…

A deep sigh that ended in a cough broke through her thoughts and she glanced back to see the girl straighten, a mirthless smile pulling at her mouth.

'Did a victory ever smell so sour?'

Jaheira cast an eye of the carnage and shook her head. 'Many have lost their lives here; I wonder if this place can ever be more than a tomb now.'

The girl snorted, impatiently wiping the sweat from her forehead, smearing it with blood.

'At least that would be cooler; Gods, this heat is damnable!' she sighed, her gaze drifting to the sky. 'Though I suppose it's not all bad, at least these _brushes with death_ make for a pleasant distraction.'

Jaheira recoiled. The joke felt like a slap in the face; a mockery of everything she was feeling, and she sensed a familiar anger at the world welling in her heart. Was this all some sort of _game_ to her? People could die, _had_ died! Why couldn't she see how fragile their lives were? Jaheira swallowed dryly, anger making her chest tight. Half their friends were dead, just _gone_, and there Fritha was just making light of the whole thing! And suddenly it was as though she was two people, the world almost a dream as Jaheira watched herself step up to the girl, her scornful tones ringing through the silent courtyard.

'You are _enjoying_ this?'

'Enjoying?' Fritha questioned, turning to her with genuine bewilderment, before Jaheira's implication seemed to dawn. She looked hurt and Jaheira felt something inside her begin to purr as Fritha straightened, moving a hand unconsciously to her hip and she could just see the girl squaring up to her. There would be no backing down this time.

'Well, perhaps it seems like it since I'm not quite as _content_ expressing my displeasure as you are, but I can't afford to let anything get in the way of what we must do here.'

'And yet you do it with such ease,' Jaheira snapped, a horrible helpless feeling that the argument was running away with her welling beneath her chest, but her anger would not let her stop.

The girl snorted, her nostrils twitching as she fought to keep her temper, and Jaheira hated her all the more for it.

'_Please_, when have I known you to suffer anything more than a toothache without letting the whole world know of it?'

'And I suppose just making a joke of everything is better, is it?'

'Yet _again,_ we must ask the question, what else would you have me do? Spend my days sobbing into my sleeve? How will that help anything?' Fritha paused to send her a contemplative look, her eyes narrowing. 'Yet, perhaps I should just let others take the lead, never speak outside a criticism, just be rude and exercise my temper where I pleased -that would really get us far, wouldn't it!' The girl was breathing heavily now, her face flushed, flinging her arm out towards the keep as she spoke. 'We _need _them! Why drive them away for nothing?'

'It is _not_ for nothing!' Jaheira shouted, all her self-control employed to keep from shaking the girl. 'They died for you! You laugh and joke and act as if everything is a game; you _scorn_ their memory! What would they think? Dynaheir, Khalid, Imo-'

She stopped, and suddenly she was no longer watching from the outside, but staring down into the bright dark eyes of her friend, the girl's voice slow and measured and full of emotion.

'Imoen's not dead.'

A rattle of armour behind them, an uneasy cough and both women turned to see the broad figure of Anomen in the doorway, little more than an outline through the haze of smoke. Jaheira took the moment to turn and sweep past her, returning to the keep, Anomen stepping aside to let the druid pass before walking across to join her. How long he'd been there, Fritha could not tell, though his face was grim and she suspected the façade had finally fallen from her and Jaheira's fractured relations.

'You should let someone look at that nose,' he said tonelessly, gesturing to her bloody face. Fritha made no reply though, not trusting herself to speak, and merely smiled evenly at him, teeth locked beneath her lips. Her Alaundo Smile she called it: that expression of resolute and stony serenity as worn by his statue in her former home.

Anomen stared down at her intently, clearly deliberating on whether to voice his concerns when-

'You should not allow such insubordination to continue unchecked.'

'Anomen,' she sighed, all the fight suddenly leaving her as a dull ache surfaced behind her eyes, 'they aren't soldiers or knights; they're people. I have no authority over them bar the authority they give me, and so we continue with today's reoccurring theme: _what_ would you have me do?'

He stared down at her, seemingly astounded that _she_ would even have to ask, and she wondered absently just how high a pedestal Anomen had had her on.

'Anomen, she has just lost her husband-'

'So you will just allow her to continue with this abuse?'

Fritha shrugged, her words feeling somehow hollow even as she spoke them. 'I am her friend and such relationships are not always as simple as they could be.'

Anomen remained unmoved. 'You are her friend outside of battle; inside it you are her commander- I can see why the Order keeps such strict hierarchies in place,' he added in what sounded like a rather disdainful tone, and she considered that Anomen might well be regretting his previous haste to join with them.

Fritha just shrugged, lacking the energy to convince him otherwise, and she turned to walk back to the keep, leaving the squire little choice but to follow her. She returned to the dim cool of the hallway feeling all the worse for her argument, Nalia marching up to her purposefully as soon as she entered.

'Fritha, I've had the men take up strategic positions- oh, are you hurt?' she suddenly asked, peering concernedly at Fritha's face and it was only then she recalled the dried blood that was still smeared across her upper lip.

'No, no,' Fritha sighed, licking the corner of her sleeve to wipe at it half-heartedly, 'you were saying.'

'Oh, yes, well, the men have taken up positions covering the stairs and doors over the ground floor while Arat leads the servants back to the palisade.'

Fritha nodded absently. 'Good, good; down to the cellars then?'

Nalia looked disheartened. 'I'm afraid it's not as simple as that. The entrance to the cellars is on the first floor; the jail is down there, amongst other things… it's more secure that way.'

Fritha gave a loose shrug.

'Okay, what's on the first floor?'

'The family rooms, the library and the solar,' Nalia answered promptly, anticipating her question, 'all built within an encircling hallway.'

Fritha nodded once to show she'd understood, trying to restore a modicum of confidence in her leadership and turning slightly to include the others who had gather about them during their exchange.

'Okay, we'll move up to the first floor checking the rooms as we go, before heading down to the cellars. Minsc, you're up front with me.'

Nalia's description turned out to be quite an accurate one, the stairs leading onto a long square corridor; all the rooms, bar the solar, placed within it and windowless as a result. Fritha wondered absently at the fortune that would no doubt go to light them, though she supposed that when it came to castle design 'natural-light' was quite a bit below 'impregnability'.

But either way, there were still many rooms to search and they soon developed a quick routine for each door; Fritha putting her ear to the wood to listen for trouble, her findings deciding whether Nalia was brought forward to cautiously pick the lock, or all stepped back as Minsc kicked it off its hinges, everyone pouring into the room ready to subdue whatever they found. It was dangerous work, especially in such confined spaces where she could not rely on her agility to get her out of trouble, and Fritha knew she should have probably hung back slightly to let Minsc and one of their more armoured companions go in first. But Fritha was still sore from her fight with Jaheira and she stayed close to the ranger regardless, taking comfort in his loud good humour and the kind smiles he sent her way as they worked.

They had just finished in the solar; the myriad of plants providing excellent cover for any number of creatures, though the room turned out to have been empty. Fritha would have liked nothing more than to check the place all over again, lingering in the leafy room with only the sound of the fountains, the sun just a milky green orb through the glass ceiling. But there was nothing to be done but move onward and she led them promptly back into the dim cool corridor and on to the next door, dropping down before it with a barely audible sigh, her ear pricking as soon as near the smooth wood.

'Something's moving within,' she murmured, straightening to step back, 'ready, Minsc, on my signal, one, two-'

Suddenly, the door flew open, a guard appearing in the mouth only to be nearly decapitated by a startled Minsc as a high voice behind her screamed, 'Hendron!'

'Good gods, man!' he snapped, staring white-faced at the broadsword just inches from his nose, 'kindly lower that blade and explain to me what you are doing here!'

'It's all right, Hendron,' came Nalia's voice as she pushed her way through to stand at Fritha's side, 'I've brought them, they're liberating the keep. We've taken back the lower floors and the gate is open again. What has been happening?'

'Well, I've your aunt in here with me; quite shaken she is too- not that you could tell,' he added in a disgruntled undertone that Nalia saw fit to ignore, 'I haven't seen your father since the keep fell though. There were rumours of the trolls interrogating him about a cache of gold hidden somewhere in the cellars, but I've heard nothing more-'

'Nalia dear, is that you?' came a soft voice of crystal-cut vowels and Hendron stepped aside to allow Delcia forward, her temples grey beneath her wimple and lined face pulled into an expression of concern; that was until she actually noticed her niece and the company she was keeping, and suddenly she hardened, brows brought low in a stern frown.

'Well, look at you! Absolutely filthy and wandering the halls with these, these _riff-raff_! What _will _the servants think? If I have told you once, I have told you a thousand times, this behaviour is simply not becoming for a young lady of your standing. You will only end up as you poor dead mother; she would slum as you do, dealing with those beneath her and her reward was the pestilence that claimed her life.'

'Aunty, please!' cried Nalia, looking mortified, but it seemed Delcia was in full swing now she finally had someone to vent her fear on, turning from her niece to cast a critical eye over the rest of them.

'Just as I suspected: a likely group of ruffians. And is that not Lord Cor's son?' she accused, pointing a shaking finger at Anomen, 'Well, I would have thought better of you. What would your father say if he saw you with these commoners?'

Anomen sent Delcia a look that made the woman's disdain seem positively friendly. 'I am _sure_ I do not know, madam.'

'_Well_, I never-!'

But what she had never was lost to them as, at that moment, Hendron wrapped a cloak about her shoulders and firmly escorted her out, Nalia following the pair halfway along the corridor with a few placating cries; the woman's demands that her niece come with her being duly ignored.

Nalia sighed, tripping back to them with an apologetic smile.

'I'm sorry about that, my aunt is a good enough person, but old and very set in her ways. I'm afraid she does not approve of dealing with her _lessers_.'

Jaheira snorted, narrowed eyes drifting along the corridor after the woman. 'It is a wonder she deigns to speak to anyone then.'

'I wish some others would follow her example,' Fritha muttered under her breath, pain flaring behind her eyes in sympathy as Nalia carried on oblivious.

'Come, there's an entrance to the cellar just down here, through the library.'

They followed Nalia the last few steps to the final doorway, the large oak door already ajar and the girl hung back to allow Minsc to enter first. The room turned out to be empty though, whatever had upset both tables and nearly destroyed one of the bookcases clearly long departed.

'Here, the steps are just through here,' she smiled, pulling aside a tapestry of the de'Arnise family crest to reveal a stone staircase curving down into the gloom.

The group fell into single file, Nalia just behind the ranger who led the way and Fritha close behind her, leaving Aerie and Jaheira to follow, the squire bringing up the rear. Aerie felt her heart quicken as each step took her deeper within the keep, the idea of all that stone above her leaving her giddy. The stairs were narrow, both walls and bodies pressing in about her and she tried to put all her focus on the head before her, the bright cluster of amber curls reduce to a murky tan in the gloom. Though she knew it was impossible, the air seemed to be thinning and she hesitated, putting a hand against the wall to steady herself, the druid behind her tutting the delay and causing Fritha to glance round.

'Come on,' the girl encouraged with a warm smile that Aerie tried to return, though she did manage to make the last few steps, her heart slowing again as she walked through the doorway into the larger room beyond. And then it stopped.

All about her chains hung, rusting and silent, cages still baring eloquent stains standing at intervals about the chamber. Aerie drew a breath, wanting to tear her eyes away but unable to move, transfixed by the room; an old brazier still filled with irons, a rack left solid and serviceable under a heavy layer of dust. The druid had commented on something and Nalia was speaking, but it was as though she was listening to them through water; the world about her reduced to an echoing dream.

'It's been here since the castle was built, though the family hasn't used it for generations, not even the prisons. Father prefers to send any criminals to the city gaol back in Ath- Aerie are you all right?'

And suddenly everyone was staring at her, the mix of faces swimming in and out of focus before Fritha stepped forward, grasped her firmly by the shoulders and marched her back into the stairwell, Nalia hurrying after them but seconds later.

'That- that room,' Aerie cried shrilly, her heart trembling inside her chest as she scrambled frantically back from the door, Nalia turning to close it behind them, 'I can't-'

'Aerie, please,' soothed Fritha, her hands still at her shoulders trying to hold her steady, 'no one will make you do anything you don't want to, but please, what on Toril's wrong?'

Her voice held a firmness that was calming and Aerie felt herself sink onto the steps behind to drop her head into her hands, misery rushing in to replace her fears. It was so long ago now, she had been sure she had banished the last of her demons concerning her imprisonment. She felt the tears begin to well, her eyes hot with sorrow and frustration. Oh, why _now_ of all times, when everything had been going so well. Poor Nalia was relying on her. And Anomen and Jaheira; as if _they_ needed any more of a reason to think she was pathetic!

But it was too late for regrets now. Silence was ringing about her and she knew an explanation would have to be made. She glanced up to the two girls, her voice sounding strange in her ears.

'I told you before, I was not always with the circus. I- I was born in Faenya Dail.'

Nalia's brow furrowed, none the wiser it seemed, but Aerie could see the slow horror dawning behind Fritha's eyes.

'But… isn't that an avariel city?'

Nalia drew a sharp breath, looking down at her like she was seeing her for the first time, her expression slowly mirroring Fritha's.

'But Aerie?' Nalia breathed, as though willing her to deny it, 'Your wings?'

'I- I was captured by slavers shortly after my ninetieth year and sold to a touring show as an attraction. But- but the cage I was kept in was too small. I could not move about properly and my wings atrophied. They-' Aerie swallowed, the words sticking in her throat. 'They had to be removed… But then I was freed,' she continued in a rush, trying to force a brightness to her voice, 'and I met Quayle and he took me in. I mean, I try not to think about it anymore, but just seeing all the cages and, well-'

It was no good. Merely thinking of it again dissolved any of her previous composure and she gave up, dipping her head to attempt to retain at least _some_ shred of dignity as she cried quietly into her lap. The girls seemed to shuffle uncomfortably a moment before Nalia stepped forward to make soothing noises, awkwardly patting her shoulder, Fritha just watching them with a pained look.

'What is the delay?' came Anomen's voice outside the door and Fritha sighed, seeming to consider something before glancing across to Nalia.

'Could you go and tell them we'll just be a moment, please.'

The girl nodded and departed with a relieved promptness, the silence she left almost palpable as Fritha sank onto the step next to her.

'You know, we have yet to clear the roofs and I shouldn't like to be caught down here without warning. It would be prudent to have someone on guard at the top of the stairs…' She trailed off, letting the offer hang in the air between them.

Aerie swallowed another bout of tears, the unexpected kindness making her feel even worse about her breakdown and she stared at her hands, pale and frail looking in the half-light. Was this how it would always be? With her cowering beneath the shadow of her past at every step of her life. They had already stolen so much from her, so many years; how much more would she allow herself to lose?

Aerie glanced down, surprised to find Fritha's hand at her forearm, gently stroking the underside with the silken backs of her nails, so light a touch it could almost be discounted, though it was strangely comforting nevertheless.

'No-' she began tremulously, a blink dislodging the last of her tears, 'no, I will come.'

'Good,' said Fritha firmly, rising to pass her a handkerchief just as she had in the circus, her sigh barely audible and Aerie felt a surge of affection for her. The girl was trying so hard to fill a role she was clearly unaccustomed to and Aerie was sure this couldn't be helping.

'Thank you, I- I'll try to be less of a burden-'

'Oh hush now, don't start on with that!' she scolded, but there was no anger in it and Aerie smiled tentatively as she stood. Fritha drew a deep breath.

'Right, all set? Then on we go.'


	7. Misery loves company

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

-Blackcross & Taylor

**Misery loves company**

Everyone turned to them as Fritha pushed open the door, but whether due to her look or perhaps something Nalia had said in the meantime, no one commented on the delay, and they moved swiftly through to the chamber beyond. Minsc opened the door opposite onto a similarly furnished room, though even the apparatus that surrounded them lost its edge when compared with the sight before them. But five paces from the doorway and floor was gone, the rough slate tiles falling away to a pit a good few yards across, the earth and rubble of the opposite side sloping down to disappear into its depths.

'Minsc?' Fritha prompted as the ranger carefully walked around it to kneel at the edge of the tunnel, examining the tracks left in the earth.

'Burrowing creatures. Big, heavy too, but I have never seen their like before.'

Fritha sighed. As though the trolls weren't enough. Minsc shrugged, straightening.

'The tracks are a few days old; Boo thinks they are not coming back.'

'This is too organised for my liking,' said Jaheira, pushing past to examine the tracks for herself.

'So it was no accident the trolls arrived here,' came Nalia's voice behind her, unusually hesitant, and Fritha turned back to find the girl staring blankly at the pit with a lost air. 'But who would have done such a thing?' Nalia shook herself, a sudden urgency seeming to fill her and the girl pushed past her as Jaheira had, marching towards the next set of doors, 'come on.'

Minsc took the lead once more, opening the doors onto the adjoining room and they filed in after him. Mercifully, that one was filled only with ancient chests and furniture, the jails leading off to the right while a mess of recent tracks on the dusty tiles led leftwards, disappearing under a dark wooden door, the ornately carved arch above it looking out of place in the plain surroundings. Fritha sent Nalia a questioning look and she responded immediately, though her voice wavered.

'It, it leads to the family mausoleum.'

Fritha glanced about at them all, everyone slowly readying their weapons and she turned back, reaching up to take the nearest torch down from its bracket and push open the door, the flame sputtering in the draught of cool stale air. A tunnel lay before her; plain stone walls on either side, the roof just high enough for a man and she could see some stairs on the edge of the torchlight, leading downwards for a couple of steps before the darkness swallowed them.

'Someone wedge the door open.'

And with that, she drew her sword, adjusted her grip on the torch and stepped down into the darkness. They descended, the square of light from the door growing smaller above them, when finally the steps finished and Fritha led them along a narrow passageway in silence. It felt like ages later when the tunnel finally ended, though it was likely no longer than a minute or two. Fritha stopped, suddenly finding herself out in the open, the walls dropping away to an impregnable darkness and she sensed she was in a room of cavernous proportions; the air dry and dusty, filled with smell of ancient decay. Fritha glanced back along the tunnel, the group pressed together in the gloom, faces wary, Aerie looking anxious yet determined in the glow of the magelight she had cast.

'It opens out here, stay together.'

Fritha led them left along the wall, reaching a corner before turning to head forward once more, glad for something solid at her side even it was the venerable dead; the walls of the chamber lined in open tombs, coffins lain in the web-draped crypts, the spiders scuttling from the light.

A noise to her right, somewhere nearer to the chamber centre and she signalled for those behind her to stop, Fritha creeping forward, Nalia at her back. She held her breath, trying to hear anything above the heavy thud of her own heart. There it was again, a sort of scuffle, and Fritha swung the torch forward, the light catching on a limb of green flesh before the creature stepped back and was lost to the shadows once more, its voice coming low and guttural from the darkness ahead of them.

'Who that?'

Fritha adjusted her grip on the torch once more, her hand beginning to get uncomfortably hot as she forced a boldness to her voice. 'I am Fritha. I have been hired to secure the release of Lord de'Arnise.'

A pause, then a whispery rasping sound, and it took a moment for her to place it as laughter.

'Torgal release no one. The stronger say we come and Torgal come. He not say anything about deals.'

'The stronger?' came Nalia's voice at her arm, her mix of fear and anger audible, 'who sent you here?'

More of the whispery laughter and Nalia's composure seemed to finally snap. 'Speak beast! I demand you tell me!'

The laughter stopped instantly, the deep rumbling voice growing to a roar.

'You not make demands of Torgal! We done, now you die!'

He lunged at them, Fritha throwing her sword in front of the girl and lashing out with more instinct than strategy, the creature's howl not quite drowning out the unpleasant hiss of burning flesh as the torch collided with his face. Torgal drew back, the shadows closing about them as the flame sputtered under the gore, the shouting of the others echoing as roars erupted from the darkness. Fritha felt her skin grow cold; what had she led them into? There could be any number of creatures down there!

Nalia had dropped behind her slightly, and Fritha could feel the arrows streaking past her into the darkness. The girl needed a target and Fritha shook the torch vehemently, coaxing the flame back as she plunged forward. Movement before her, always on the edge of the torchlight , when Nalia screamed and Fritha jumped back just in time, Torgal suddenly towering above her, clawed hands sweeping down inches from where she had just stood. Fritha dodged left, trying to allow Nalia a clear shot as the troll bore down on her, half-charred face grimacing as he rained down blow upon blow, Fritha given no chance for an offensive as she defended against them. A spell crackled somewhere behind her, light flashing through the chamber to end in an almighty roar, the sudden flare leaving her dazed.

Torgal took the opening, sweeping down at her with ready claws and she brought her sword up to parry it when an arrow whistled past her to strike his bicep, burying to the flight. The troll roared, his arm dead at his side, and in that moment she saw her chance, a vicious joy filling her drove the blade in to his unprotected chest, the weight of the creature as it fell almost pulling the hilt from her grasp. Fritha dropped the torch and the shadows descended, both hands needed as she heaved at the blade now lodged in his sternum, the torch guttering at her feet. Suddenly, another spell flared, lighting the chamber for an instant and movement caught Fritha's eye, her stomach clenching as another face loomed from the darkness.

She leapt back, finally freeing the sword to bring it into a low guard. But she was too slow, the claws just catching her across her waist, parting the mail with ease to rake at the flesh beneath. Fritha staggered back, hand clasped to her side as she rose her sword weakly, ready to defend against the next blow, when she heard another arrow streak past her and the troll stopped suddenly, swaying a moment to collapse backwards, an arrow through its eye.

Fritha sighed, trying to ignore the wetness of her side as she stooped for the torch, the tomb suddenly returned to the silence they had arrived to and she could see the faint glimmer of Aerie's magelight across the hall.

'Is everyone still with us?'

An assortment of assents, and Fritha counted five before her heart felt able to slow and the pain seemed to double.

'All right then, pair off and search the room.'

Fritha turned, continuing her path forward with Nalia, as those behind them spread out, Jaheira casting her own werelight as she paired herself with Anomen. They moved onward, a winged shape looming out of the darkness and Fritha looked up into the serene stone face of Tyr, sword aloft as though guarding the body that was slumped at his feet. A shuddering gasp at her side and Fritha felt her stomach drop, not needing to turn to confirm Nalia's devastated look.

'F-Father?' she breathed, stepping forward with one hand held tentatively out before her as though she could make him rise again by the sheer yearning of it, 'Oh gods, no…'

The girl collapsed to her knees beside him, sobbing into her hands and Fritha felt the torch slip from her grasp, rolling to throw its light against the wall; cobwebs on the lowest tomb suddenly a net of gold. Nalia was still crying, hunched over the body before the statue and Fritha moved forward too, sliding down the plinth to settle next to her with a sigh, her knees brought up to her chest and sword resting across them. All they had managed and still they were too late; it had a horrible feeling of premonition about it.

Fritha sighed. Her side was burning fiercely and she felt tired with the world. The light shuffle of footsteps and she glanced up to see Aerie approaching tentatively, haloed by the magelight that was glowing above her staff. But she turned away again, returning to the others as Fritha shook her head. Fritha suspected Nalia would be embarrassed enough, without them assembled and gawking at her, and nothing really helped in situations like this; best just to let her have a cry.

Finally, Nalia quietened, straightening stiffly to fix her with red-rimmed eyes. It looked for a moment as though she would excuse herself for her outburst, before she merely shook her head, seeming to realise it was not necessary.

'Thank you Fritha, I- we did all we could. Father would have been proud.'

Fritha nodded, taking her cues from the young woman and they both rose slowly, returning to the light of the storeroom. Anomen, Jaheira and Minsc were already in the adjoining room re-examining the pit tracks and Aerie swooped in as soon as they entered, gathering Nalia away and leaving Fritha to find herself a quiet corner and enjoy a few moments bent double and swearing, her side throbbing mercilessly as she struggled out of her chain. At last, she straightened, flushed and aching. Her tunic was half-soaked and clinging to her side, a sunburst of blood that had sent the blue fabric a deep russet. Fritha leant back against the wall, unable to stifle a groan, Anomen appearing in the doorway at the sound and approaching her at a measured pace. He glanced down to her bloody waist, face unreadable.

'May I?'

'Be my guest,' she said with a sigh that soon became a hiss as he slowly peeled her clothes from the wound.

Fritha looked down to the even slashes in the soaked fabric; she could probably mend them, but her mail was another matter. Finding a decent blacksmith would be a priority on her return to the city. She hissed again as Anomen laid a hand over her side, chanting dully at her elbow a moment and she felt the magic prickle before he removed his hand and began to bandage about her waist, Fritha occupied in holding her tunic and camisole out of the way.

'What's the prognosis then?' she grinned, wincing slightly as he pulled the last bandage tight, 'Will I live?'

'Yes,' he replied curtly, as though it wasn't much to be celebrating, and she snorted. Poor boy. What a disappointment they must be for him. He was clearly expecting something special from the _Heroes_ of Baldur's Gate; how short a honeymoon he had enjoyed. Barely three days before he'd discovered they were just two broken bickering women and a half-addled Rashemi.

_You don't think that._

No, she didn't. But it was so hard keeping strong for them all, especially when Jaheira seemed content on using it as proof she didn't care for the lost. The pain in her side reduced to a dull ache, there was little else to wait for and with Anomen in tow she collected Jaheira and Minsc and they returned to the upper floor, finding the two girls waiting for them in the solar. Neither had bothered to ignite the lamps, and the dying sun of dusk lit the room with a murky light, the windows staining the air green as though she was looking into the bed of an ancient lake. The girls were sat in silence on a bench in the back, though Nalia rose politely as she saw them; the formalities were still of importance to her, perhaps then even more so.

'Come, I should inform my aunt.'

xxx

Nalia stood, cloak draped across her shoulders against the evening's cool, the air filled with the chirp of crickets as she stood at the forest's edge, watching the castle banners flap and twist in the breeze, black against the gloaming sky like skewered bats. The world felt unreal. But a few short days ago everything had been so normal; now her father was dead and she was looking upon her home for what could be the last time. To think she would never again awake in her room, or watch the sunrise from the battlements, or read the almagests in her father's study-

She stopped at the sudden thought of the man, feelings of regret welling within her. Perhaps it was for the best she was leaving, when all her memories of him were there.

In fact, this group of people she had met were the only consolation in this whole horrible situation. Decent, normal people who saw the value in small acts of kindness, and it was heartening to know it was possible to live such a life without the privileges of wealth to back you up. Especially now since it seemed she had little more than her principles to her name. Nalia dipped her head, burying her face in the collar of her cloak as she felt her cheeks burn, recalling the meeting with her aunt. She had always know the woman was reactionary to the point of impossibility, but she had never been so ashamed to be related to her; the woman doing no less than accusing the people who had saved them of theft, corruption and gods know what else, and refusing to even let them stay the night in the keep. The others had been very understanding about the whole thing; Fritha just shrugging mildly before leading them from the palisade to a clearing a few yards from the forest's edge and setting up camp there.

Nalia shook her head, recalling with painful clarity the meeting with her aunt; the palisade emptied of soldiers and servants, though it had seemed rather redundant since the exchange was not exactly _hushed_, especially once she'd informed the women she no longer intended to honour her betrothal to the young lord, Isea Roenall.

_"Well, I must say, you have gone too far this time, Nalia, entirely too far. We allowed you to indulge your unbecoming fascination with alchemy. We turned a blind eye when it came to your insistence in helping the poor and the other less than reputable skills you seemed to acquire along with it, but it has gone far enough! Your father spoilt you and now I alone am reaping the fruits of it. If you refuse this proposal, it will be your ruin! No man of note will even look upon you afterwards. You'll be cast out of all decent society and reduced to status of the ilk you insist on travelling with. Well, I'll not stand for it. Swear to me now you'll honour your promise, or you'll never set foot within the castle again!"_

Nalia felt anger rise in her, time doing nothing to cool her rage at her aunt's ultimatum. If the woman had thought to cow her into her marriage, she could not have been more mistaken. Nalia had launched into a rather heated speech of her own, where she had told her aunt rather dramatically that she would prefer to sleep the rest of her life in the gutter, than spend one night inside the keep with such a small-minded intolerant harpy. But however resolute she herself had been, it was still utterly embarrassing to have to stand with the people who had saved your home and be told they were not welcome to stay there.

A rustle behind her and Nalia turned to find Fritha stood watching the banners as she had, though the girl noticed her movement and glanced to her with a faint smile. Nalia sighed and tried to return it, nodding to the flags as she spoke.

'There was a time I wondered whether I should ever see them fly again…' She trailed off, still struggling with the feelings of embarrassment when, 'About what my aunt said, I cannot apologise en-'

'Don't fret, Nalia, it is not your apology to make,' the girl cut in evenly, smiling still, 'You have done nothing to be ashamed of.'

Silence fell between them again, Fritha moving closer to lean upon to the tree next to her and both returning their gaze to the sky, Nalia very aware of the weight of the purse in her pocket. She sensed the end it could mean for them, for her, and it took a great resolve to dip her hand within and draw it out, passing it to the girl with a nod.

'The payment we agreed upon; five hundred gold pieces. I only wish it could have been more. Perhaps if my father had survived he could have used his influence to help you, or…' she trailed off with a shake of her head.

'Thank you,' Fritha said gravely, for a moment intent upon the purse she now held before she glanced up, fixing her with a mild look. 'Nalia, what do you intend now?'

She felt herself shrug.

'Well, I cannot stay here, that is certain. Not unless I agree to honour my betrothal anyway.' She paused her mouth suddenly dry. 'I- I was wondering whether I could travel with you, until I find my feet at least.'

Fritha smiled, open and warm, and Nalia felt suddenly silly she had ever worried, ever even considered the girl would refuse her.

'We would be happy to have you join us.'

Nalia smiled gently, turning her attention back to the banners; once released from one worry another rushing in to press on her.

'It's strange,' she sighed, speaking without really knowing why, 'now he's gone, I find myself thinking of my father more and more, just going over my memories of him. It feels as though he is slipping away, as though I'm trying to keep water cupped in my hands; the sound of his voice, the way he laughed, the look he wore when he would catch me doing something I shouldn't. But- but it does not feel as I thought it would. I am sad, of course, but…' she trailed off, Fritha's voice mirroring her thoughts.

'You think you should feel worse…'

Nalia turned to her, filled with a sudden intensity of emotion.

'Yes! And it feels awful, not to be feeling, well, awful…' she shook her head, slightly embarrassed. 'Oh, I'm not making any sense… did you leave a family somewhere?'

'No. My foster father was killed by bounty hunters late in the spring.'

'I'm sorry.'

Fritha shrugged, eyes trained on the rippling banners.

'It was unexpected and I wept at first, but only once. I assumed myself in shock, that suddenly I would breakdown and be useless for a tenday or more, but still the tears refused to come. Finally, I realised that perhaps they never would. I loved Gorion, yes, but there had been a distance between us as I had grown. How can old men know how young girls feel, or indeed, the other way round? I miss him still, but more for his guidance than any physical comfort. I loved him as much as he would allow himself to be loved by me and grieved his passing as much as I could.'

Fritha turned to her, smiling gently. 'Do not worry about what you should and shouldn't be doing; grief is a very personal thing and it will find its own way.'

Nalia nodded once, the girl's words a comfort however bleak they seemed.

'Yes, but it is a strange kind of loneliness, not having a family; well, not unless you count my vile aunt!'

Fritha laughed slightly and Nalia could not suppress a smile, however cross she was.

'Nalia, we all have relations we are not so proud of. Just give it time. I know you are angry with her now, but grief affects everyone differently.' The girl smiled faintly, though she didn't look that amused, sighing as she continued, 'perhaps you could try to make peace before we leave.'

Nalia shook her head, the lingering shame over her aunt's behaviour leaving her angry.

'No! She has made her feelings on the subject more than plain. I wash my hands of her and this place. I have my memories; they are all I need.'

Fritha sent her a pained look, though she pressed the matter no further, turning to start back to the camp.

'I should begin dinner.'

Nalia followed her and they walked the short distance in silence, the girl slowing as they approached the aura of the campfire, and they were almost abreast as she entered the light, those within looking up at her arrival.

'The bread is stale,' said Anomen by way of greeting, holding up a round of the unleavened waybread with a frown. Fritha barely spared him a glance.

'It will toast fine.'

'What _is_ for dinner?' asked Aerie as Fritha knelt down beside her bag, rummaging within to retrieve two potatoes, an onion and a packet that was well wrapped in brown paper.

'Fish soup,' she finally answered, throwing a potato each to her and Aerie, and Nalia settled beside the elf, Fritha taking a small knife from her pocket to make a start on the onion.

'Boo does not like fish,' Minsc rumbled opposite them, Nalia watching as he let the hamster run over his hands. Fritha kept her focus on the pot, slicing the onion into the water that was already heating over the fire.

'Then he can have _bread_. Are you two done?'

Nalia tossed her a now peeled potato, the girl slicing it haphazardly into the pot and giving the elf time to finish with hers before she sliced that in too, adding a generous pinch of salt to the water and taking up the packet to unwrap a bundle of dried fish, gently flaking them into the water.

'Make sure you don't over season that fish,' came Jaheira, looking up from the bracer she was unlacing to send the girl a stern look, 'the curing will have left them salty enough.'

'_More weight_,' Fritha muttered under her breath, adding the last of the fish to the water and replacing the lid. 'Right,' she said more loudly, wiping her hands on her trousers and withdrawing the purse Nalia had just given her from her pocket, settling on the ground to pour the coins into her lap. 'Payment. Fifty gold each, and the group will fund any repairs to armour, supplies and so forth. There you are,' she continued, passing each a neat stack of coin, 'Aerie. Anomen.'

The elf glanced down at the handful of gold, and Nalia could see the uncertainty in her eyes. 'You know, you don't have to…'

Fritha glanced up from the coin she was scooping into her own purse, brow furrowed until she seemed to realised what she was offering and firmly shook her head.

'Aerie, for whatever the reason behind it, we are mercenaries. I can't ask you to risk yourself without some sort of recompense. If you don't want it, donate to a temple.'

Aerie opened her mouth a moment, as though she would have liked to protest but was unsure of what to say. But she closed it abruptly as Fritha finished with her purse, throwing it back into her bag and settling again before the fire, legs crossed and eyes closed, and Nalia watched those around her exchange worried glances.

It was only when the water was boiling that Fritha moved again, rising to take up her pack from her bedding and explain she was going to change her tunic before heading off into the trees. Nalia couldn't blame her, watching the girl disappear into the twilight, her tunic more russet than blue where the blood had dried, and it was a while later when the crash of bracken pulled her attention from her book and she glanced up to see Fritha wandering back to them, a smile on her face that Nalia could not help but share.

There was a grove of fruit trees behind the keep, and the girl had helped her steal some of the riper looking ones before they'd left, edging nimbly along the branches while Nalia shouted instructions from below, catching the chosen ones in her skirts to hide in Fritha's bag. Fruit which were now flying through the air as the girl approached them, juggling deftly.

'Apple or pear?' Fritha asked brightly as she reached her, her eyes still fixed on the tumbling fruit.

'Pear, please,' Nalia answered, her smile broadening as Fritha tossed her one, no pause to the juggling, before she turned to Anomen to ask the same. And Nalia watched as she travelled the group, reaching Jaheira last, the juggling now much less impressive since she was only keeping two aloft.

'Apple or pear?'

'_Neither_ will be fit for eating the way you have been manhandling them!'

There was a soft thud as something hit the grass.

'You'll have to have the apple,' said Fritha in a toneless voice, holding the bright green globe out to the woman who took it wordlessly. The girl stooped for the remaining pear, wiping it despondently on her tunic before tossing it on to her bedding, turning back to the fire without another glance to her.

'The soup should be ready by now.'

xxx

Anomen shifted, pulling his cloak about him more tightly as the breeze picked up, the guttering fire making the shadows leap and dance as the others slept about him. He had been on watch for the last hour, volunteering for the first one with the heavy knowledge that there was little point in bedding down when he knew sleep was so far off. Anomen shook his head; he had never been a particularly confident man, always worrying on something or another, but he had never been so full of doubts as then.

He glanced down at the five sleeping bodies that lay about him. He could not believe there was a company in the whole of the Sword Coast that was any less like the Order he was so ardent to join, and he had managed to find them. Was following people who were already acclaimed as heroes the sure path to glory, or was he merely making it harder for himself? There was no denying that they had done a great service to the de'Arnise family that day, but it seemed rather unlikely that the Lady Delcia would be singing their praises to anyone, and that left Anomen in exactly the same position he had been in with the Order's campaigns; all risk and no recognition. Perhaps he should just cut his losses and leave, try to find some more suitable company rather than waste any more time with them.

Anomen sighed; his regrets at joining with them resurging once again and he could not help but think back to the girl's words in the courtyard.

"_I have no authority over them bar the authority they give me_."

He had realised that they were not the most organised of groups when he joined them. At first, he wondered if their disorder could not be a blessing in disguise; an environment where he could employ the rigorous lesson of his Order, a true test of his skills as a leader of men. He could almost laugh now at his naivety. There was no way such an undisciplined group would respond to the rigid practises of the Order and Fritha was right; without any sort of hierarchy to enforce it, anyone in disagreement would just leave.

Anomen sighed, letting his mind wander from such worries as he leant forward to tend the fire. It was strange. He had, of course, kept watch before, but it was usually as one of a pair, patrolling a battalion of knights and soldiers as they slept under bivouacs, the higher-ranking ones among them lucky enough to get tents. He had never done it alone though and over so few, and it was odd watching the faces of your companions as they slept. Aerie lay closest to him, every inch the maiden in repose, her hair lying in long neat waves, each strand shining like spun gold. Though clearly inexperienced with battle, she had shown a strength of spirit he would not have expected of her and in spite of all his preconceptions, she had impressed him that day.

Anomen sighed, wishing he could say as much for the others as he let his gaze drift on to the bodies next to her. The ranger looked much the same as he did normally, the easing calm of sleep making little difference to his worriless existence, but the druid looked younger, her face loosing the guarded frown that seemed so much a part of her during the days. While both clearly experienced fighters, it was still hard to imagine the pair as saviours of the Gate. Minsc was addled by any evaluation of the fact, while _Jaheira_. That woman could try the patience of celestial! He had not been spoken to with such disparagement since leaving the seminary! Fritha was a fool to brook such behaviour and, grieving or not, if the druid spoke to him like that again he would not be struggling against a retort.

Anomen pulled his gaze away as he felt a familiar anger rising in his heart, his eyes falling on the young noblewoman opposite, Nalia mumbling quietly as she slept, no doubt haunted by memories of the day. He frowned as he recalled their treatment at the hands of her aunt. The Lady Delcia was the embodiment of everything he hated about the Athkatlan nobility. And it seemed his was not alone in his abhorrence. Nalia had made her feelings quite plain to her aunt, and anyone else within earshot, and that had seemed to be an end to the matter. _He_ had certainly thought no more of it.

But it had been over dinner, as they had discussed their plans for the morrow that the subject had resurfaced again. Talk over what time they should start back to the city prompting what had seemed to be deliberately innocent comment from Fritha about visiting the keep one final time and Nalia had told her, and in no retiring manner either, that she had no intention to _ever_ set foot within its walls again. But Fritha had remained un-cowed, pleading with her not to break ties completely if only for the sake of the funeral and maintaining there was nothing worse than leaving home with ill will, however wronged you were. It was something that Anomen could only agree with, and he absently wondered who Fritha had left behind. Nalia would hear none of it though, stating simply that she had said her goodbyes to her father and needed no formal ceremony to cement them.

And it was to those thoughts his gaze fell upon the last of them, the only one whose face he could not see, buried as it was beneath her blankets, a mass of amber curls the only part of her visible.

He had to admit that Fritha had impressed him at first. The confident way she seemed to lead such a mismatched disordered group. But time with them had opened his eyes. Fritha may be leading, but in a way that was unlike anything he had encountered in the Order. There was no hierarchy of command, no structure or formality, and he found he was put in mind of a boat in a storm, the girl there, braced against the rudder and just hoping for the best. He appreciated the skill it must have taken, but the uncertainty of it all still left him uncomfortable and he considered again that perhaps this company would not be the one to provide him with the distinction he sought; at least, not in any desirable way.

Anomen glanced to her again, cocooned in her blankets though the night was mild. He would have liked to see her sleeping though, seen if there was any difference in the pale refined face that seemed to wear every emotion so plainly.

'Fine-boned' Moira would have called her and he smiled in spite of himself, warmed by the memory of his sister at their last meeting; dark-haired and blue-eyed, laughing lightly as she teased him about who he would be attending the Midsummer's celebrations with. He had meant to visit her before he left the city again, but he had not found time in the end. Still, he could see her upon his return, perhaps use some of the gold he had earned to take a present to her… perhaps one of the girls could help him find one, that was, if he was still in their company.


	8. The Watchers

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

-Blackcross & Taylor

**The Watchers**

Fritha walked on beneath the trees, her temples throbbing with the beat of an unseen drum as, in her mind's eye, she travelled the slow opening movements of the Chauntean harvest dance she had learnt in another lifetime, when home was a library fortress and trouble was just unfinished chores. The girl in her head stooped, raising the sickle high as though in worship to the sun and sweeping down at the wheat before her, the graceful arc flowing smoothly into a turn before the whole slow process began anew. Normally she would have skipped ahead, uninspired by the dull pace and melancholy composition. There was a threshing dance later on that she had always been partial to, with good deal of leaping about and stick waving to be enjoyed. But that was over nine sets away, and probably not conducive to her ever-present headache, which left her where she was now: body walking back to Athkatla, whilst mind was currently mired in the slow plodding calm of the reaping dance.

They had been walking since the mid-morning, Fritha at their head with the ranger, Aerie and Nalia chattering away together behind her, leaving Jaheira and Anomen to walk abreast at the back: each a suitable punishment for the other. Fritha absently moved a hand up to the back of her neck, finding the skin unpleasantly slick, damp curls plastered to the flesh. It was barely noon and already the heat was suffocating, the muggy air hanging about her in a way no amount of dancing could distract from. Not that anyone else seemed to be troubled by it, she thought sourly, glancing to the five figures behind her. Well, four, she conceded, as Minsc caught her eye to offer her a wan smile, the sweat glistening on his bald head.

The group would have left the keep at dawn had the druid had her way, and though that would have resulted in at least a third of their journey being done in the morning's cool, Fritha had made sure they dallied over breakfast and packing until the implications of leaving on an argument had truly sunk in for Nalia. It seemed some sleep had worked its magic, and she was pleased when the girl quietly approached her to say she would be returning to the castle one final time before they departed.

Unfortunately, her Aunt was in no better a mood and, as far as Fritha had gathered, the meeting had not gone well, though Nalia claimed she felt better for it all the same. And, in her own words, at least she had a chance to bid farewell to the servants. Something Fritha was _sure_ meant a lot to them.

'_Now, don't be mean_,' a voice warned.

Fritha blinked. Had she said that aloud or just thought it? She threw a surreptitious glance behind her, but it seemed no one had noticed either way, too caught up in their own conversation, and Fritha let her attention drift from the bright fields of her imagination to rest on the two directly at her back, listening to chatter of the Nalia and Aerie as her mind provided the view.

'So Aunty said if I wasn't going to be married to a Roenall, I was no longer any relation of hers.'

Aerie's gasp was instant, and Fritha imagined her with eyes wide, her plum-bud mouth a perfect circle.

'And what did you say?'

'That she should be proud I was finally taking a leaf out of her book and refusing to deal with my lessers.'

Fritha grinned to herself; she _liked_ Nalia.

'Oh, Nalia!' cried the elf, sounding worried, but the young woman was having none of it.

'Oh, nothing! She did not lift a finger to defend the keep when the trolls came and she will do no more when the Roenalls come. Now I've the will and the freedom to live as I choose and I shall help those less fortunate, propriety be damned!'

And, reflected Fritha, it was considerably easier for her now as well, since having lost her home and family and title, those who could be considered _less_ fortunate were greatly reduced in number. She allowed herself a smirk as the conversation behind her continued, Aerie's voice so hesitant she was almost drowned out by the whispering of the trees.

'Nalia, why do you help people?'

'It has to start somewhere, Aerie.'

'What has to start?'

'Love, honour, justice; all things we must strive for. They must begin somewhere, in small acts.'

But clearly the Lady Delcia was not alone in thinking this a load old of rubbish, Anomen's deep fraternal tones entering the conversation.

'That is commendable attitude, my lady, but with maturity you will see not all deserve as such.'

Fritha snorted, eyes raised to the heavens; someone, somewhere was having a laugh.

'_Maturity_?' repeated Nalia waspishly, 'I had no idea that you were of such a venerable age, Anomen.'

'I did not mean it that way. I merely meant that as you gain an experience of the world, you will begin to see that there are those who are deserving of charity and those who are not.'

'And who will make that judgement? _You_?'

Fritha sighed gently; she never should have left that field.

'What will happen to the keep in your absence, Nalia?' came Fritha's own voice, hoping to stop the argument before it started as she half-turned back to the three with a look of polite interest.

Nalia gave a resigned sigh. 'Well, I'm afraid as my betrothed, Isea Roenall will become its lord, under his own father, of course. Lord Farthington Roenall is an utter snob, but a decent man nevertheless, and it is some comfort that, however the servants will fare under him, my aunt will always be treated with the utmost respect.'

'And to think, if all this hadn't happened, you would have ended up _married_ to Isea…' sighed Aerie, half to herself.

'Yes,' agreed Anomen, 'the Roenalls are a very influential family and notoriously conservative; I must admit to being surprised the union was ever agreed in the first place.'

Nalia looked outraged. 'I _beg_ your pardon?'

Anomen paled. 'Well, ah, all I meant to say was that some men would, er, _may_ find your behaviour a little hoyden-'

Fritha snorted; that's right, Anomen, just keep digging.

'What do you mean, _hoyden_?' Nalia repeated, clearly stung, 'I am skilled in _all_ the womanly arts! Singing, dancing, embroidery, er-'

'Lock picking,' prompted Fritha, sending her a friendly smile, 'alchemy, the setting of traps. Any man would be proud to have a wife with such skills.'

Nalia smiled slightly and shot Anomen a triumphant look.

'Besides,' the girl continued, 'I came close enough to marrying Isea to put me off for a good long while yet, and am currently far more concerned with the matter of finding my own place in world.'

'I'm sure you will always be welcome to travel with us,' came Aerie, ever tentative and glancing to her for an assurance. Fritha smiled.

'Of course you will. Or,' she continued with a grin, 'perhaps you could open a school for other young noble women to learn more worldly arts. Like a cross between a thieves' guild and finishing school. You could teach them how to sword fight with books balanced on their heads.'

She laughed brightly, but the others just frowned, looking vaguely bemused and Fritha turned back to the path ahead as her headache resurfaced in sympathy. Imoen would have understood. She would have agreed and made some silly comment about teaching them how to pick locks with crochet hooks or something. Fritha sighed. It had been clear for some time now that Anomen had serious doubts as to her mental stability, but she had hoped the others would not have been so quick to join him. Still, she was sure the situation had not been helped by her waking last night, halfway through Minsc's watch, screaming bloody murder and scaring everyone half to death. She shivered slightly in spite of the day's heat. The dream had been unpleasantly vivid. Her and Imoen back in Candlekeep, her friend as disturbed as when she'd first found her in the dungeon and chattering on about memories and shadows until the mage had turned up and she woke as she often did, with his laughter ringing in her ears as she felt her flesh consumed by fire.

Fritha scrubbed a hand across her face as she felt the throbbing in her temples worsen. She _wasn't_ addled and was in no danger of it either, no matter how _anyone_ saw things. But she was spending too much time alone, not physically, but mentally. Too much time in her own head, her thoughts just chattering away to themselves and running off on wild tangents without another to anchor her. The burden of leadership had a hidden toll it seemed, and Fritha realised she had not felt as isolated since her rift with Imoen back in the Gate.

She sighed, thoughts of her lost friend doing nothing for the pain behind her eyes. She had awoken with another headache, or should that be _the_ headache, for she had fallen asleep with the same one that had surfaced since her fight with Jaheira. She would have normally just asked the druid for something to alleviate it, but they still weren't speaking and Fritha would have to be at death's door before _she_ would break the silence. Jaheira had made her feelings quite plain the previous evening, and there was no way she was going to invite any more of her abuse. Best just to stay clear of her in future. The pain seemed to lessen slightly as though in agreement with this decision and she returned her mind to the wheat fields once more before anything else could call it back.

xxx

Fritha had completed all four movements of the reaping dance and was enjoying a break and something to drink with the other imaginary dancers when the next interruption came, though this one was far more pleasant and she left her field to find Minsc had fallen into step with her. She threw him a bright smile, ignoring the voice in her head that sniped, '_Liar!_'

'Ah, hello Minsc, enjoying the walk?'

He looked baffled a moment, and she worried that she had said something else entirely without realising it, until he continued, 'We walk to get places, is that fun?'

'No, not particularly,' she sighed, 'but it's what ordinary people say, isn't it. "Enjoying the walk? Isn't the weather fine." They practically _never_ talk about tactics or killing things.'

'Boo says we are not ordinary people.'

_Yes, Boo, that would be the whole sad point. _

'No. No, I suppose we're not.'

'Why are you unhappy, young Fritha?'

'I'm not unhappy, Minsc, I'm just tired.' She sighed, wiping the sweat from forehead with irritation to add '-and certain things are _not_ helping.'

Minsc gave her a sidelong glance. 'She feels bad for what she said to you.'

Fritha turned to him sharply, for a moment astounded, though they both knew whom he meant and she continued without comment.

'How do you know?'

'Boo awoke me during her watch. She was holding the apple you gave her…' he paused to send her a glance, 'she was crying.'

_Oh, great._

Fritha turned back to their path with a deep sigh. It seemed Jaheira did still have a heart after all, and just when Fritha had got around to hardening hers. She had almost been enjoying being angry with the woman. Well, perhaps "enjoying" wasn't the right word, but it _was_ a relief to stop worrying that there was something she should be doing and that it was somehow all her fault. Fritha hung her head. Her respite though, was to be short-lived, guilt promptly bubbling hot in her stomach.

'She is angry with me; she thinks I don't care.'

'Jaheira is angry, young Fritha, but not with you or Minsc. Minsc and Boo have seen it before back in the clans. Great warriors whose prowess makes the gods tremble do not like to find weaknesses elsewhere. Jaheira does not like the weakness of her grief; she is angry with herself.'

'Well she's got funny way of showing it!' Fritha snapped, the unpleasant feelings of guilt leaving her suddenly furious. Why did he have to tell her? It had been so much easier not knowing, because once she knew of the woman's pain she could not help but care, and the heavy weight of responsibility was on her shoulders once more. 'I'm just so sick of being made to feel like I'm always doing something wrong merely because I refuse to _drown _in my own sorrows!'

'Calm, young Fritha, Minsc and Boo understand,' he soothed gently, 'we are the same. Dynaheir is gone and cannot be replaced. Minsc knows he is not wise like Boo and Fritha, but I honour Dynaheir's memory by following my heart, which cries for vengeance! So vengeance is sought. But Minsc also knows that Dynaheir would not wish for Minsc and Boo to mourn forever, so we are glad. We will take revenge for her, rescue little Imoen and then make our return to Rashemen!'

Fritha smiled slightly, and genuinely this time; it was a truly hopeless soul who failed to be lifted by Minsc's enthusiasm.

'Do you miss your home, Minsc?'

'Yes, sometimes. But then Boo and I remember what we have left and we are glad. Boo says only when you leave a place can you return.'

Fritha's broadened; Boo had a point and she glanced up to the man next to her. The scarred skin and vivid tattoos probably looked fearsome to outsiders, but she hardly noticed them anymore, seeing only the kind eyes and broad smile of her friend.

'Will you tell me?'

And so he did. He told her of the culture of his clan, of the holy days and the dances, which, on seeing her eagerness, he described in as much detail as he and Boo could remember. He told her of the song-stories created for the greatest of them, intoning the one of Duric the Bold and Alecva the White in the thick Rashemi tongue. She copied him, repeating the strange words over and over until she had learnt by rote the first three verses, though she could no more understand what she was droning in the strangely melodic dialect, than she could fly. He beamed at her progress, describing in rich detail how, with such skills as she had in abundance, (a swift blade, a voice for the song-stories and a mind for battle being the ones he mentioned), she would be revered by all Rashemi and many fine warriors would come for miles, braving dangerous tundra to attempt to win her in displays of combat. Fritha resolved to visit as soon as she was able.

She glanced up through the trees to the dying sun, smiling absently as she recalled how the same light would be falling on the snowfields somewhere; she could almost see the rays glittering against the ice. But there in the forest, the shadows were getting long. They could make the city by nightfall if they held that pace, but she had the sense that all were tired and morale was low, plus it was harder to find the way in the dark, even for Minsc. A couple more hours walking and they could make camp, and arise rested and happy tomorrow morning to be back in the city before the noon bells.

The sound of rough voices ahead stirred her from her plans and Fritha halted those behind her with a gesture, quirking an eyebrow at Minsc, and together they crept forward to the source. Concealed in deep foliage at the edge of a clearing, she watched four men currently engaged in a group-wide quarrel which would have been an amusing mirror of her own party had they not been arguing with such barely concealed hatred.

'I'm telling you; it'll not last much longer. We need to get it back to Athkatla.'

'Back within the reach of those do-gooders? Over my dead body!'

'Don't tempt me, fool! Fero's right, we'll never make the drop at this rate. Should've know that stuff'd have been too strong for it.'

Fritha held up a hand, about to signal Minsc they should return to the others, when the speaker kicked what she had taken for a pile of cloaks and it gave a gut-wrenching moan, the next few moments blurring as battle erupted. Fritha vaguely remembered the surprised looks of the men as Minsc charged in to the clearing, sword aloft, and could hear her own voice as she screamed orders back to the others before piling in herself. With the advantage of surprise on their side, the men immediately scattered and as the fight still raged Fritha turned her attention to the injured stranger, Anomen approaching as she dropped down beside him to uncover his face.

His skin was algid and pale, drawn tight over his skull. He drew in a deep rattling breath and Fritha almost feared that they had come too late when, at last, he spoke.

'Please…please help me,' he gasped, his voice dry and rasping. Anomen, the ever compassionate, remained unmoved.

'The fool is probably drunk, my lady.'

She had no chance to respond though, Jaheira hurrying over to them and mirroring Fritha's movements; crouching down beside the man, her hands flying skilfully over his torso, gentle checking his stomach and chest.

'Where are you hurt?'

The man shook his head a fraction, eyes watering from the sheer effort of the movement.

'P-Poison.'

'Get me some antidote, now!' barked Fritha, setting off a storm of rummaging before a hand on her arm snapped her attention back to the stranger.

'No…no good. P-Please…Athkatla…yellow building…docks,' he gasped, wheezing as though he couldn't quite draw enough breath, before finally slumping back and releasing her.

'Right you heard him,' Fritha snapped, fear driving her, 'Aerie and Jaheira, lay down your staves. Have you got the rope, Minsc?'

The man nodded, unpacking his bag to pass an end to her. She closed her eyes, taking her mind back to that hot dry deck and the voyage to Balduran's isle, letting her hands remember the turns as she caught the end of Aerie's staff in a timber hitch, leaving about a yard of slack before tying Jaheira's in and throwing the remaining rope to Minsc.

'Here, take that and cross it between the length of the staves -right, hand over your cloaks,' she added, taking her own from her bag to lay it over the newly strung stretcher, Aerie and Nalia following suit.

'Good. All tied off at that end?'

Minsc nodded and Jaheira arranged herself at the stranger's head, gently taking hold of him from under his arms.

'Are you ready?' she asked, carefully adjusting her grip. Fritha took his legs with a nod. 'One, two, three, lift.'

Together they moved him across, Jaheira covering him with her cloak as Fritha stood.

'Right, Minsc, Anomen, you two are carrying him. Pass me your bag. Good grief, what have you got in here? Are you okay with Minsc's?' she added, glancing to Jaheira and half expecting a snap. But the woman merely nodded stiffly, rising to throw the pack across her shoulder as the men lifted the makeshift stretcher, her eyes trained on the limp body it bore.

'Do you think he'll make it?' Fritha questioned in a low voice. Jaheira shrugged.

'I suppose we are about to find out.'

Fritha sighed, rubbing her face tiredly. 'Oh, I love this life.'

xxx

The journey back to the city was painfully slow. Fritha at their head with one of the lanterns held low to check their path, Anomen's pack only getting heavier as the night wore on. Minsc and Anomen followed directly behind her, bearing their charge without complaint, though they got plenty of breaks, Jaheira halting them regularly to check the stranger, easing him with tonics and spells for the little good they did. While the two girls brought up the rear, the other lantern glowing brightly between them.

All night they walked, and it was to the greying sky of dawn that they finally reached the sleeping city. Their footsteps echoed as they marched through the empty streets, at last coming to the tunnels of the customs house that encircled the harbour, entering the darkness to emerge, blinking, on the other side, the docks laid out before them. The ramshackle terraces of halls and warehouses all sloped down to the harbour and, at last, Fritha saw their goal; the sandy-coloured building that stood on the quay almost golden in the sunrise, its architecture ostentatious and looking out of place next to the dilapidated jumble of buildings that surrounded it. The stranger groaned, almost as though he could sense his deliverance at hand and Jaheira straightened the cloak at his shoulders, her voice unusually gentle.

'Hush now, we are almost there.'

Fritha led the way down the sloping path towards the quay. A dhow had just landed with a catch of mackerel, their bodies shining silver in the dawning light, and the clamour of the fishwives filled the air as they packed them in ice ready for the day's market, seagulls fighting over the scraps. She sighed to herself. They had managed to get the man back to the city alive against all odds and she knew she should feel elated. But the morning had found her without even enough energy to care, and she moved swiftly through the bustle to the warm sandstone building, ignoring the interest they were attracting and knocking smartly on the heavy wooden door.

The grille slid open promptly, two bright eyes appearing to watch her with suspicion.

'Yes?'

Fritha stared back with an impassive look, her voice coming toneless as propriety and fatigue cancelled each other out.

'I've someone here who claims to be a friend of yours. He's been poisoned.'

The door flew open immediately, a man older than his eyes would have placed him appearing in the mouth.

'Poisoned?' he repeated, his gaze falling to the body, 'by Mystra, Renfeld!'

And suddenly she was surrounded as people poured from the building to take his body within, all talking at once and trying to get him to speak. Fritha sighed and turned to go, seemingly forgotten in the chaos; _their _work was done.

'Wait!' came a voice and she glanced back to find the first man at the door again, eyes wide. 'You, you just deliver one of our own to us and then leave? Just like that? At least let me have your name, lady.'

She blinked owlishly at him, the question throwing her for a moment before, 'Fritha. It's Fritha.'

He stared at her, clearly considering something when suddenly he smiled and bowed.

'I will remember you in my prayers.'

At last the door shut and Fritha turned back to find the group waiting behind her, staves and cloaks already returned to their owners and Minsc busy coiling the rope about his arm. Fritha nodded absently as she received her own cloak from Nalia, gladly relinquishing Anomen's pack to the man himself.

'Back to the inn?'

Murmurs of assent and the group turned, leaving the bustle of the quay to trudge back up the hill, their tiredness coming to the fore now the urgency was over. They had reached the highest terrace by now and were just entering the shadow of the customs house, when a woman's voice called across to them and Fritha turned to see a blond girl a few years older than herself, stood in the shade of a plain grey building and beckoning to her. Fritha threw a glance to the others and slowly wandered across.

'Good morning m'lady,' she greeted cheerily and looking a lot more cheerful than Fritha thought anyone had a right to be at that hour of the morning, 'might I ask you to step inside with me? I've been charged to arrange a meeting between you and my master.'

'And who is _that_?' came a voice behind her and Fritha turned to see Jaheira at her shoulder, the woman ignoring her in favour of giving the girl a stern look.

'Renal Bloodscalp, m'lady, a prominent man of this area. He has heard of your group and proposes an exchange of services.'

'I will come,' said Fritha impassively, very aware that more work would have to be found now they had returned to the city.

'_We_ will come,' corrected the druid archly, shouting orders across to the others to wait for them, and Fritha followed the girl through the doors behind her into the gloom, Jaheira at her back.

They were led into a large open room; the girl bidding them wait and disappearing up the stairs as soon as the door was shut, and Fritha took a moment to glance about her. It was dark, every window curtained against the dawn, though they must have been open for she could feel a slight breeze stirring her hair. The stairs were to the left of them, crates and chests stacked neatly about the rest of the room, while men and women stood in twos and threes, all with same the lean hungry look, no one speaking above a murmur. The closest man sent her an appraising glance from under his hood and she returned it blankly; Fritha had seen enough back in the Gate to recognise a thieves' guild when she entered one, the druid's warning merely confirming her thoughts.

'Tread carefully here. Some allies can be more dangerous than foes.'

Fritha sighed. 'Work is work. We're not in a position to be too picky.'

Silence hung between them again and Fritha wondered whether she shouldn't try to use this moment alone with the woman to call pax. But as soon as the thought rose, a cold reluctance filled her and she shook her head. Jaheira may be unhappy, but that did _not_ mean she would be any more inclined to make peace, and Fritha didn't think she could face offering the hand of friendship for it only to be bitten again. Not then, when she already felt so fraught; she would have been devastated.

'As you will,' the druid continued, a slight terseness creeping into her voice, 'but be aware we are being observed and I have my own duties to fulfil; I should not like to see us on opposing sides.'

Fritha just shrugged. As far as she was concerned, they had managed quite well with that on their own so far, she doubted the addition of some thieves could make their relations any worse. Jaheira frowned and opened her mouth to speak again, when another cut her off.

'Thank you for your patience,' came a familiar bright voice as the girl appeared on the stairs once more, moving down to join them as she continued. 'I have spoken with his clerk, m'lady, and Renal has time to meet you in a few days hence. Say the morning of the sixth?'

'Fine,' sighed Fritha; it seemed she would still have to look for work that day after all. 'I will return then.'

'Thank you, m'lady, he will be most pleased.'

Fritha nodded, turning to leave when a breeze caught the curtains nearest to her. They fluttered open only for a moment, but long enough for her to see not a window as she had assumed, but an alcove, all draped in black with an altar at the back, a plain mask of ebony wood hung above it in the gloom.

She recognised it instantly. 'Is that… ?'

The girl smiled gently. 'A shrine to Our Lord of Shadows? It is indeed, m'lady. Enter and give worship if you wish; all are welcome.'

Fritha swallowed, her voice suddenly hoarse.

'Jaheira, I'll just…'

The woman nodded once and turned to leave.

'I shall wait outside.'

Fritha pushed aside the curtains, moving tentatively into the gloom and placing a few gold pieces with the other coins and stones piled in the tithe dish, dropping to her knees before the dark stone altar, the hollow eyes of the mask staring down at her. The air was still and slightly dusty and she closed her eyes, letting the silence fill her. Her tiredness was making her head feel dull and heavy and she lay her forehead against the edge of the altar, the smooth stone cold against her skin.

What was she doing there? What did the gods care what had happened to her friend? To anyone?

She drew a breath, letting her anger at the world go and trying to will mercy into that shadowy god's heart as she started up a prayer to him. It was one of many she had learnt by rote from the nights spent sharing a room with Imoen, and she could hear her friend's voice intoning the words in her mind along with her, so clear the girl could have been at her side…

_Oh Imoen…_

Her breathing began to falter, tears welling in her eyes and she let them fall freely. It was the first time in days she had been able to indulge in her misery and she found once started, it was much easier to have her cry out than attempt to stop again. At last, her breathing seemed to calm, the tears abating and she straightened to send an apologetic glance to the impassive mask above her, sure that most supplicants were a lot more worshipful and wholly more composed whilst they did it.

Fritha sighed, very aware of the time she had already taken. She couldn't hide in there forever, however much she would have liked to and at last she rose, tidying her appearance and absently wishing she hadn't given Aerie her last handkerchief as she tried to stop her nose running by sheer will alone. It wasn't working though and she finally resorted to dabbing it on her sleeve, dipping her head as she did so and turning only to walk straight into someone.

'Oh, beg your pardon, miss,' came a friendly voice and she peered over her sleeve to take in a pair of worn blue eyes set underneath a greying fringe.

'Sorry, it was my fault,' she mumbled, trying to discreetly finish wiping her nose and dropping her arm as he continued, examining her face as though to place her and Fritha found herself very glad for the gloom.

'I haven't seen you about here before… so, you're one of the Mask's followers then?' he questioned amiably, gesturing to the shrine behind them.

'Me? No, no, but a friend of mine is…' she swallowed, quite unsure of herself as she added tentatively, 'she's in quite a bit of trouble.'

The man smiled kindly, eyes sparkling. 'And you were hoping for a bit of divine intervention, eh?'

Fritha shrugged. 'Didn't think it could hurt.'

'Hah, right you are, miss!' he laughed, 'I'm Jacob, and you are?'

Fritha smiled slightly too, his manner somehow heartening.

'Fritha, my name's Fritha.'

'Pleased to meet you, miss,' he smiled, shaking her hand. 'So, this friend of yours, a thief is she?'

'Yes… trained under Master Quickhand himself,' she added with a hint of pride.

'Old Steen Quickhand, you say? Well, I should imagine she'll be a decent enough thief then. They say half of thievery's in the skill.'

'And what's the other half?'

Jacob gave a wry grin. 'Luck and friends. You just keep your thoughts with her and let the Lord of Shadows do the rest, miss. Aye?'

Fritha just nodded and smiled as he disappeared through the curtains, her throat tight, though for the first time in days her head had stopped aching.

**...**

Jaheira pulled her cloak about her slightly, stepping out from the shade of the guild house in an attempt to escape the morning's chill. She usually liked the dawn, but there was a bleakness to it that morning that left her cold. She had noticed the look the man from the sandstone building had given her, each recognising a fellow Harper when they saw one, just as surely as he had noted Fritha. Explanations would be called for before long; she would have to be prepared. But that would be some time off yet, and her mind seemed happy to return instantly to the worry that had been pressing on her ever since the keep: Fritha.

What had happened between them? Mere days since they escaped the dungeon as comrades, and now the girl seemed barely able to look at her.

Jaheira sighed. She knew she had only herself to blame. She had been so consumed by her own grief that it had been easy to ignore the pain of the others. Snapping and snarling at them all, even her well-meant guidance descending in to an argument; every word she seemed to utter being distorted by her ever-present anger. But Fritha had seemed so strong, even in her suffering. Jaheira closed her eyes, the image of the girl rising unbidden in her mind. Just stood holding out the apple to her, not hurt or defiant, but with a resigned almost empty look. It was only then Jaheira had realised how fragile the girl had become, and though she was loathed to admit it, she was frightened to find out how troubled Fritha truly was. Once discovered, it could not be ignored and Jaheira realised she may have to step up to resume the burden of leadership; an idea she did not relish, not now when she would be baring it alone.

Jaheira turned back to the quays, watching the gulls swoop and bank over the harbour. Though she and Fritha had never been close, for she had always had Khalid to confide in and the girl was never far from Imoen, they had been friends. Why was she suddenly finding it so difficult to talk to her now? She had wanted to speak with her just then, while they were alone in the guild house, but a fear the girl would no longer want to make peace had replaced words of conciliation with yet more advice; distant and cool. It was a horrible helpless feeling, to sense the girl drifting away from her but not knowing how to stop it, and yet the alternative was so much worse. To lose dear Khalid had been awful enough; to lose the only friends she had left, and with the knowledge that it had been through her own doing would be unbearable.

Jaheira shook her head, turning back to the guild house and half-expecting the see Fritha there, waiting. She was not though, and by the look of things, her absence had not gone unnoticed by the others either; the group milling about, exchanging questioning looks as to the delay, though only Anomen actually broke the silence, moving to join her and frowning in the sunlight.

'Where is Fritha?' he asked, though by his tone it sounded more like a demand. Jaheira turned to level him a stern look; if he said _one_ word to the girl when she returned…

'She is inside praying at the shrine to Mask. She won't be long.'

'_Mask_?' he exclaimed, looking affronted by the mere idea, 'I did not know she worshiped _him_.'

'She doesn't, but she thinks the gods are more likely to help one of their own followers,' and when he persisted to look confused she added, 'Imoen worships Mask. She is praying for her.'

Sure enough, Fritha returned a few minutes later smiling, though her eyes were red, and together they travelled wearily back to the slums, Aerie making her excuses and heading off for the circus before they had even reached the inn. Fritha moved into the room she'd been given and firmly shut the door, dropping her bag when but one step inside and kicking off her sandals to fall fully-clothed on the bed, too tired to even considered her usual bath.

A knock at the door behind her, her voice coming muffled as she did not even lift her face from the quilt to shout, 'Go away!'

'Young Fritha?'

Fritha rolled onto her back, but did not sit to greet the Rashemi who was currently peering round her door.

'If there is a problem, then I do _not_ want to know.'

'No, no problem, young Fritha,' the man rumbled genially, not waiting for an invitation to move into the room proper and settle before the hearth, Fritha finally shifting onto her side to face him. 'But Boo did notice that you are sad… If those thieves were mean to you, then just you say! And Minsc and Boo will-!'

'No, no, they were fine, Minsc,' she interrupted, amused in spite of herself at his outrage, 'it's just been a _long_ couple of days.'

'You are worrying for little Imoen?'

She was about to reply when a knocking cut her off, and they both turned to look at the door, the girl rising to answer it and unable to hide her surprise as Jaheira's stern visage swung into view.

'Oh, hello…' she eventually managed, half-waiting for the woman to tell her off, though nothing was forthcoming and she continued uncomfortably. 'I'm just in here with Minsc… we were just talking…' She trailed off, letting the door open to reveal the man himself, sat upon the hearthrug, unusually grave. Jaheira said nothing though, looking ill at ease and Fritha felt obliged to add, 'Er, you can join us if you want.'

The woman frowned and Fritha waited for the refusal when she moved silently past her and sat stiffly opposite Minsc.

'Well, young Fritha?' prompted the ranger again as she shut the door, and Fritha realised she had yet to answer his question.

She shrugged absently, dropping down to sit on the floor next to them. Of course, she was worried for Imoen; so much so, it was almost suffocating. But as strange as it was, she felt guilty as well. Guilty that Imoen was alive to worry about when other people close to them had not been so lucky, and it felt wrong to be complaining about her friend's absence to the pair, when either one of them would have gladly traded places with her.

'Do not worry, young Fritha,' continued Minsc kindly, 'she will be found. Hah, if Dynaheir was with us now, she would have those mages in a muddle, I think!'

His laughter boomed through the small room and Fritha smiled slightly, imagining her meeting with the Cowled Wizards' representative over again with the Wychlaran in tow. Her potent mix of sensual charm and imperious grace had always made for a persuasive combination. The poor fool would have been incapacitated with a look.

'Do you remember her with the barman in Feldpost's inn?'

'Ah yes, Minsc remembers the stern look it took from Boo to show him that our witch was not for him. Always it was so, from the beginning; Minsc and Boo protect Dynaheir, that she might help us. The western lands were strange to us at first, and foreigners do not understand the ways of Minsc and Boo. Ah, Minsc and his witch; we were a pair! With Minsc's strength and Dynaheir's words none of the Sword Coast could stand before us!'

He paused, sad a moment before he continued with the same brightness, seemingly happy in his memories.

'But Khalid too knew the strength of words. Boo remembers him telling some sailors you could not play for them without your bard-master…' he trailed off, giving her a grin and Fritha smiled guiltily, recalling the white lie that had saved her much embarrassment. But then that was Khalid; so full of quiet thought and care, and she was suddenly immersed by memories of him. Of his gentle interventions when Jaheira became too sharp and his patient tutelage on the longbow and a thousand other small kindnesses.

'I never did play for him,' she said quietly, remembering her own promise after he'd rescued her lute from the shallows of Balduran's Isle.

'Yet we are forgetting the one who knew him best,' continued Minsc, and Fritha felt her heart sink as he turned towards the druid who had sat silent all this while. The woman's reaction was predictable and instant.

'There is nothing that can be said!' she snapped, her eyes dark. 'There are no words!'

Fritha just turned away, the weight of the day threatening to overwhelm her, when the voice came again, an unfamiliar vulnerability to it and she glanced back to Jaheira, the woman suddenly staring at the floor.

'I- I turn to speak to him sometimes; it is such a surprise to find he is not there…' She trailed off, finally raising her head to fix her with a soft look, 'you- you must miss Imoen terribly.'

Fritha nodded, her smile trembling as she recognised the reconciliation there, dropping her gaze to her hands and reaching inside to search for the words of it.

'Yes… but it is unexpected what you miss, so many small things… there- there is nothing less restful than sleeping a double bed alone. It feels strange to sleep in the centre, but to lie on one side, to feel that empty expanse of bed at your back…' she shook her head, her voice sounding strange in her ears, 'it is a hollow thing.'

xxx

But hollow as the thing was, it was also a necessary one and they disbanded soon after, each retiring to their own rooms to rest. It was early afternoon now, sunlight from the window behind giving the room a warm yellow glow as Jaheira knelt before the unlit hearth, slowly intoning a mantra to Silvanus and trying to find her balance. Ever since she could remember, the cyclical nature of life and death had been part of her teachings, but the words felt empty now and it was such a struggle not to think of Khalid, not to feel the anger and the misery his passing had left her with.

At least she felt reconciled with the girl now; she had not liked it before, when every word between them seemed to clash, and Jaheira tried to ignore the unpleasant squirm of guilt in her stomach when she recalled some of their more heated moments, Fritha displaying time and again a remarkable strength of will in the face of the world's provocation. Jaheira shook her head. When it had happened she could not have said, but between them, Fritha was the leader now, guiding their group with a patience her dear Khalid would have been proud of.

She was out with the Helmite now, the squire having mentioned his Order may have some work for them and she had dutifully asked him to escort her there as soon as he had risen for lunch, even though it was clear the two did not favour each other. Though Fritha was still refusing to agree with her, the girl could not deny the fact that, as Jaheira pointed out, while Anomen may have _many_ valid reasons to behave like an arrogant lout, in the end, that still left him an arrogant lout.

Sure enough, it was only a short while later that the pair returned, though she heard them long before she saw them, two familiar voices drifting through the open window as they passed below.

'…And I am so _sorry_ you did not find the surroundings in the temple of Helm _opulent_ enough for you!'

'I didn't say that, I just said that if I had an unsleeping eye, I'd want my temple to be a bit more visually stimulating...'

Jaheira smiled slightly in spite of her mood. Khalid had once said Fritha was a lot like her, but if he could see her now, calmly ignoring the man's antagonism, she thought he would agree there was much of both of them in the girl.

**...**

The pair were still bickering as Jaheira descended the stairs moments later, or at least one of them was, Fritha more focused on trying to catch the maid's attention as she flirted with some mercenaries at the other end of the bar.

'How was the Order?' Jaheira asked, Fritha glancing up at her approach and cursing quietly as her lapse in concentration allowed the person next to her to sneak in and get served.

'We never made it in the end,' she sighed, turning from the bar and clearly giving up on the idea of something more exciting to drink as she took a mouthful of water from her flask. 'We were waylaid outside the temple of Helm.'

'That they would _dare_ peddle their blasphemy outside that holy hall!' snarled Anomen, the women exchanging a look as he continued vehemently, 'such a cult is an abhorrence in His sight!'

'A cult?'

'Yes,' said Fritha, smirking slightly, 'the Cult of the Eyeless. A man named Gaal was in the temple district trying to recruit followers, extolling the virtues of poking out your own eyes with an enthusiasm only a fanatic could muster.'

Anomen snorted, but whether from contempt or amusement Jaheira could not tell.

'He was trying to convince people the gods were a charade perpetuated by the churches merely for their own power! Why the temple guardians did not just cut him down where he stood, I do not know!' he snarled, turning to throw Fritha a glare. 'And what _you_ said was hardly helpful!'

'I think the angle I approached from was _extremely_ helpful!' she countered, finally bristling, 'everyone looked a whole lot less keen on joining him afterwards. But I suppose I should have just spouted out the usual, "the gods love us" nonsense, should I?'

'Fritha,' repeated Jaheira, bringing the girl's attention back to her, 'what did you say?'

'Well, I told them of course the gods existed, and that they themselves had the proof of it. I asked each to look upon their lives and see the misery of being. By odds alone, things should be all right half of the time, but they are not, proof positive that the gods exist and do not like them.'

Jaheira rolled her eyes, wondering how much jest there truly was in Fritha's bitter theology as the girl continued.

'_If this is how the gods treat you when you are worshipful_, I continued to the gathering about us, _think then how much worse they will make your lives if you abandon that devotion_…' Her voice had trailed off to no more than a whisper and Jaheira suspected her little speech would have had quite an effect after the zealous ravings of a cultist.

Anomen snorted though, clearly not in agreement. 'Your words did nothing; they left with him all the same.'

'_Three_ of them left,' Fritha corrected archly, turning back to her to add casually, 'the rest just stood about staring at us.'

'At _you_!' snapped Anomen, not to be outdone.

Fritha ignored him. 'That was when High Watcher Oisig approached us for the temple of Helm and asked us to investigate. It should pay quite well.'

Jaheira nodded once. 'Agreed. Aerie should return from the circus soon and we can begin investigations. Where is the cult situated?'

The pair before her shared a look, agreed on something it seemed and Fritha sighed.

'Take a wild guess.'


	9. In the kingdom of the blind

Disclaimer: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

-Blackcross & Taylor

**In the kingdom of the blind…**

As Jaheira had predicted, Aerie returned from the circus within an hour of their arrival, and the group split in two; Fritha and Nalia going to the promenade while the others returned to the temple district to learn more of the cult before they descended into the reeking darkness of the city sewers.

Fritha smiled as she listened to her new chainmail chime with every sodden step, echoing slightly in the sewer tunnel. The blacksmith she had visited had done no less than laugh in her face when she asked him about fixing the 'crumbling hunk of rust' which was her last shirt, informing her that the repairs would cost more than it did. Obviously, her look had indicated she did not share in the joke, and he was quick to appease her with the offer of a suit he had repaired a fortnight before, which was still awaiting collection, and at only twenty gold more than the repairs would have cost. Once her mail was replaced, she and Nalia had restocked their supplies and headed back to the Coronet, stopping only to leave their remaining gold with Gaelen; the girls sternly overseeing the record of it in his ledger before departing.

By the time they had reached the inn, the others had already returned, their investigations uncovering that the cult had first emerged four months ago, though it had only been recently that they'd begun to preach openly. But both High Watcher Oisig and Dawnmaster Kreel at the temple of Lathander maintained that no signs indicated a new faith was in emergence, something Fritha could only be glad of. They had enough troubles at the moment without inviting some celestial vendetta. And so it was just as the sun was beginning to sink in the western skies, they had arrived at the sewer grate nearest to where she had first seen Gaal that afternoon, and together they descended into the reeking shadows.

They had not lit the lamps for, as Nalia had reminded them, the gases down there could make it dangerous, and the only break in the darkness came from the grates to the streets above them, the regular shafts of light lining the tunnels and stretching off as far as she could see. Fritha glanced ahead of her, watching Minsc's outline as he led the way as usual, taking them confidently deeper into the maze of tunnels, Anomen slightly behind him with herself and the druid, leaving Aerie to bring up the rear with Nalia, the young noble coping rather well considering this was her first real taste of life as a mercenary. Aerie had shown the girl how to kilt up the skirts of the robes they wore, Fritha lending her two belts for the purpose, and Nalia had looked amusingly pretty stood in the middle of the temple district, her pale blue travelling robes hitched up to her knees with Fritha's spare belts, one plain red, one green with a pattern of leaves, the girl's fine roan boots visible underneath, just ready to be ruined.

Fritha herself had changed back in to her boots as well, memories of the Gate's watery sewers at the fore of her mind, though Amn was much further south and she found the sewage quite solid due to season. The heat was by no means helping the smell though, and many of them had tied some scarf or the like over their faces. Fritha had begun with the same, but it didn't seem to make much difference, the magnolia oil she had dotted upon it just mixing with the reek of the sewage to leave her feeling vaguely sick. Plus it only made the heat worse and in the end she gave up, the bright turquoise cloth still hanging loosely at her neck.

Fritha smiled to herself in spite of the smell, her surroundings doing little to sway the good mood she had awoken in. Her reconciliation with Jaheira, combined with her first payment to Gaelen had found her on much better terms with the world, and not even her quarrels with the squire had dampened her spirits. She glanced to the women next to her, warmed by the idea that if she sent her a smile she would likely get one in return. Jaheira must have sensed her watching though, for she turned to her with a questioning look and Fritha could not help but grin.

'Two cities I've been to in my short life. Just two. So why is it I'm intimately acquainted with the sewage system in both?'

Jaheira rolled her eyes, but Fritha could see the smile her scarf was hiding.

'What was Baldur's Gate like, my lady?' came Anomen's voice at her shoulder and the druid raised an eyebrow, Fritha suspecting the woman's thoughts mirrored her own. _Why_ couldn't he just use her name?

She paused a moment, affecting a bewildered air as she finally turned to him. 'Oh, sorry, were you speaking to_ me_?'

Jaheira snorted as Anomen frowned, and Fritha continued, throwing a cursory glance about her, 'Hmm, the Gate. Well, a little wider but you were knee deep in water for the most part, so I'd say it was on a par with Athkatla. Oh, Anomen,' she laughed in face of the squire's deepening scowl, 'I don't know what you want me to say. It was large and noisy and full of people, I wasn't really in a position to sightsee. The High House of Gond is worth a visit, though their security seems to have been stepped up of late. The Elfsong is very nice, as is Madam Rosalind's salon, though perhaps it would not be to your taste.'

'Madam Rosalind's?' repeated Jaheira, and Fritha suspected she had heard of the infamous locale.

'Yes, we went with some boys from the thieves' guild.'

'_Thieves_' guild?' repeated Anomen, looking appalled at the thought; he clearly hadn't heard of the salon.

'Yes, Imoen and I joined to investigate the Iron Throne while we were in the Gate. Spent most of my time watching Imoen flirt though.'

Fritha sighed. To think she had been so cross with Imoen at the time as well; now the whole episode just seemed funny. Giggling behind them pulled Fritha from her memories though and the three turned back to see Nalia and Aerie, the pair chattering quietly through their scarves with a surreptitious look that was trained, rather worryingly, on them.

'My lady?'

Fritha smiled to herself, returning her attention to the squire as Jaheira dropped back to hurry the girls along.

'Yes, Anomen?'

'You mentioned before when you spoke of Baldur's Gate that you had met the Grand Dukes.'

'Hmm? Oh yes, I don't know Liia or Belt so well, but Eltan seemed very nice. Why do you ask?'

Anomen shrugged; the nonchalance of the gesture did not suit him. 'Mere curiosity. I suppose I wondered what sort of people they were. We were nearly at war with the city and it seemed they were duped into it by the Bhaalspawn all too easily.'

'Perhaps, perhaps not,' said Fritha evenly, 'Sarevok had a talent for deception that would have left Cyric himself envious. Besides, it takes two to make a war; I do not recall your Council of the Six being any less belligerent.'

Anomen nodded, his voice growing stronger as his passions rose. 'That is true, though some would say they only defended what was threatened. I myself am more concerned with how they rule Amn in times of peace. Our country is wealthy and prosperous, but still injustices prevail for the common man. I do not know why the Order does not just assume control of the Council; it could do a lot more to make this a fair and equitable land.'

'What, just march in and take over?' Fritha confirmed, unable to keep the surprise from her voice as she turned to him; Anomen was the _last_ person she expected to be advocating such a thing. 'That doesn't sound particularly advisable and politics has a way of corrupting even the most noble of goals. The Order should stay separate from the Council, at least that way they can each monitor the other.'

Anomen frowned, a coldness creeping in to his manner.

'You're entitled to your opinion, my lady,' he continued, in a tone that suggested he begrudged her the right, 'but I think there is more than can be done to halt the tides of chaos than simply combating the most obvious evils with a sword!'

Fritha snorted. '_Halt the tides of chaos_? I'm not the one suggesting a military coup!'

Anomen looked flustered a moment before pulling himself up to his full height, which was impressive enough in itself, and sending her an imperious glare.

'At least I am suggesting _something_, not standing idle while such injustices continue unchecked!' he snapped, brushing past her and storming off to fall into step with Minsc at their head.

Fritha sighed. Well, she agreed there was more to be done to combat evil than just _fighting_ it; if you were that way inclined, of course. It just seemed to be on the matter of _how_ that they were suffering a difference of opinion.

**...**

Jaheira walked on, her staff keeping her steady on the slimy floor; Fritha, Anomen and Minsc just silhouettes before her in the gloom, Aerie and Nalia now pointedly silent behind. Whatever they had been giggling about was to remain a mystery it seemed, the pair stopping their chatter as soon as they'd noticed her approach, and in a way that did not fill Jaheira with confidence as she noted how their eyes had lingered over the squire. The _last_ thing the group needed was an outbreak of lovesickness. She sighed deeply and instantly regretted it, the heavy almost sweet scent of effluence making her gag. Fritha was right, they had become far too acquainted with sewage systems in the past few months, and the gloomy tunnels were doing nothing for her memories of the dungeon. The sooner they found this cult the better, especially since it had become apparent that her attendance at the local Harper hall was expected within the tenday.

The barman at the Coronet, though she doubted as a Harper himself, was clearly in their service, and had slyly passed her the message to that effect with her drink while she, Fritha and the squire had waited for the others to join them, the pair oblivious to the exchange as they continued their quarrelling. Something that it seemed they had yet to finish with, Jaheira considered as she glanced up at the sound of raised voices to watch the squire march to the head of the group, the gloom doing nothing to disguise his stiff gait. Fritha was still just ahead of her, now walking alone and looking as serene as ever she did. Jaheira frowned.

'What is wrong with him?' she asked, quickening her pace to reach the girl.

Fritha shrugged, apparently unfazed by the cleric's outburst. 'Oh, he's just in a huff because he thinks the Order should be in control of the Council and I said I thought it should stay separate from such things.'

'That is all?'

The girl nodded mildly. 'That's it.'

Jaheira bristled, throwing glare at his back, guilt at her own past behaviour sparking in her a fierce anger.

'Arrogant _boy_! I'll remove his tongue before I hear him speak to you like that again!'

The girl laughed gently, but looked pleased with her reaction nevertheless. 'Oh, leave off, he's hardly worth it. I couldn't give a dried fig what he thinks of me.'

Jaheira gave her a sidelong glance, a slight smile tugging at her mouth. 'You know I don't think the Illmaterans give sainthoods outside their faith.'

Fritha looked instantly crestfallen.

'No? Oh, that's a shame. Saint Fritha of Candlekeep has a nice ring to it. Yes…' she continued with distant eyes, 'Saint Fritha, Our Lady of the Resigned Sigh.'

She had paused to strike what she clearly thought to be a virtuous pose, the dusty light that haloed her from the grate above only adding to the effect. Jaheira smiled wryly.

'Fritha-' she began, when the familiar rattle of plate mail caught her ear and she tapped Minsc with her staff to halt him. 'Hold, there is someone up ahead.'

The group stopped, and in the tunnel's gloom she watched as the outline of a tall armoured figure walked slowly towards them, comfortable enough in his plate to move in relative silence, broadsword drawn and ready. Jaheira glanced to the girl next to her.

'Who was the knight Anomen spoke of before, the one already investigating this?'

'Sir Keldorn? Anomen… well, he said he was a knight of the Order under Torm. An excellent warrior,' the girl paused to send her a pained look, 'if somewhat over pious.'

Jaheira closed her eyes for the briefest of moments; overly pious by the _squire's_ standards… 'Silvanus help us.'

Fritha sent her a twisted smirk, starting forward as Anomen did to greet him, the man removing his helm politely as he saw them, revealing a face much older than Jaheira would have expected, the grey hair and beard neatly cropped.

'Hail citizens, I can see from your appearance that you are no strangers to risk, but pray turn back now. There are no spoils to be found down here, and only death waits for the unwary.'

'We are not mere laymen, _sir_,' replied Anomen, with a lot more disdain than Jaheira thought an aspiring squire was wise to show his superior, 'I myself am counted among the ranks of the Order, along with you.'

'Ah yes, the squire Anomen,' he continued genially, 'I had been told you were among those sent to investigate this matter of the cult. The gods smile upon us with this meeting.'

Anomen said nothing, but looked rather sullen as though he was loathed to agree with the man. Keldorn chose not to notice, eyes sweeping over the rest of them.

'Well met friends, I am Keldorn, humble servant of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart. It seems the Squire Anomen keeps fine company; the saviours of the Gate, if the rumours hold true.'

Fritha glanced back and Jaheira caught her eye, the girl sending her a relieved smile; it seemed their fears about the old paladin's manner had been misplaced.

'And is that not the young Lady de'Arnise?' he continued, as his eyes fell upon Nalia. 'Let me express my most sincere condolences on the passing of your father, m'lady. It is a true loss to Athkatla and her noble houses.'

The girl smiled gently, looking rather warmed. 'My thanks, Lord Firecam, and, please, call me Nalia.'

He smiled generously. 'Certainly, if you will but consent to call me Keldorn; we have no need of formalities here. So,' he continued, eyes travelling over their faces again, clearly searching for the leader, 'since our paths have crossed and our goals are as one, shall I join with you? The way is always easier with friends.'

'Yes,' said Fritha, and he glanced to the girl, previously overlooked, stood in the shade of the squire as she was, 'I think that would be the wisest course.'

'Ah yes,' Keldorn smiled, finding her in the gloom, 'Fritha, is it not? Prelate Wessalen has told me of you. If you would walk beside me, m'lady, perhaps we could discuss what our investigations of the cult have uncovered so far.'

Fritha glanced back to her again, beaming, and Jaheira felt herself smile too as the girl moved forward to fall into step with him, talking animatedly with the old paladin as the group continued on once more. Jaheira looked to the squire now at her side, eyes trained on the pair before them from under a low brow. It seemed his position as voice of the Order had just been usurped, and by one comfortable enough to call him squire. Jaheira sighed. That the boy suffered from a deep insecurity in his own powers was clear, and this sudden humbling would likely do nothing for his manner.

xxx

They continued searching for another half hour or so, all looking for some sign or mark, the light from the grates fading as dusk fell in the world above, until Aerie and Jaheira had to conjure light for them to see by, the tunnels suddenly eerie in the grey green glow. At last, Minsc made out recent tracks in the filth and they walked on with more purpose, passing strange whitewashed symbols on the damp walls, until Keldorn brought them to a halt, a narrow tunnel, that could have been easily missed in the darkness, leading off to their left.

'Do you sense it? A grave evil emanates from within. I'll warrant we have found our cult.'

'Right,' began Fritha decisively, very aware that she may soon have a mutiny on her hands, 'our first course should be infiltration. An all-out battle may be inadvisable and perhaps impossible at this stage. And with such in mind it would for the best that we go among them as supplicants… and I do not think it wise that those of direct faith should accompany us in this.'

A sudden chorus of protests rang through the tunnel.

'Baervar, no!'

'By Silvanus, what madness is this?'

'Helm's Beard, you are not serious! That leaves only you, Nalia and Minsc!'

'Minsc and Boo could go aloneif need be! We fear nothing!'

Fritha raised her hands, trying to calm the group. 'As I said, we do not go to fight, and who knows what powers this Gaal has? He may be able to sense your own faith. Could you swear oaths willingly to another god?'

Anomen looked set to argue the point but another cut him off.

'No, lad, the young lady speaks wisdom,' said Keldorn, nodding gravely. 'Even concealing our holy marks, we may draw unwanted suspicion.'

The druid though remained unconvinced. 'Perhaps, but my faith is in nature itself. He is a child of that, as are we all; I do not believe he will sense it.'

Fritha hesitated a moment, but Jaheira was not driven by any desire for honour or glory; if she believed such, then it was likely so. Fritha grinned.

'All right, _you_ are worth the risk and I would prefer not to approach him myself anyway, since we met before. Had I known this would come about, I would not have said anything at all…' Fritha sighed slightly as she recalled her little sermon and shrugged, 'As they say, you can see a lot further with hindsight.'

'Indeed,' snarled Anomen, 'perhaps when you are the mercy of some foul heretics for want of our skills, the proverb will give you comfort.'

Fritha sent him a sweet smile. 'You know, I think it _just_ might.'

Keldorn bowed slightly, forestalling any reply.

'We shall await you here, m'lady. Gods be with you.'

Fritha nodded once, following Jaheira and Minsc into the passage, Nalia at her back as the two circles of light parted and the shadows closed in about them. On they walked, the darkness so absolute Jaheira's werelight did little more than highlight the caster, and Fritha found herself merely following the bobbing green light, stumbling after Jaheira and Minsc, Nalia's presence behind her confirmed only by the girl's hand at her sleeve. The way was narrow and uneven, and more than once they had to pause to allow Minsc to turn sideways for a pace or two, his large frame too broad for the passage. But even so, the ground felt firmer underfoot, the way worn by many feet and the smell seemed to lessen as they went, a slight breeze along the tunnel bringing fresh air in from somewhere. And it was as the passage opened out into a small chamber, that a familiar nasal voice peeled out from the darkness ahead of them and everyone stopped.

'Hold, you tread on sacred ground. This place is reserved for the faithful.'

Jaheira lowered her staff slightly, letting the glow that hovered over the end cast light upon several men, all armed with staves. The speaker, though, was the only face close enough to make out, the green light revealing a man of middling years, two scarred healed-over sockets where eyes should have looked back at her, and Jaheira felt her heart recoil at such an abuse of the gifts Nature had bestowed. It had to be said that subterfuge was not one of her preferred methods, her manner better suited to more direct means, but she still counted it among her skills and her voice contained much more goodwill than she felt as she answered him.

'Who are you to stop my passage?'

'I am Gaal,' he continued in a voice just brim full of his own importance, 'High Priest of the One God.'

'The One God?' came Nalia behind her, her young voice suiting well the feigned innocence of the question.

'Yes, child, the Unseeing Eye. He who has shown us disciples the truth path, allowing us to achieve a higher state of wisdom.'

Much nodding and muttering from his companions followed this, Jaheira waiting for it subside before continuing.

'So it was you who was preaching outside the temple of Helm; it is you I seek. I wish to share in this wisdom as well.'

The man smiled suddenly, his mutilated face twisting the expression into something closer to horrific as he lifted hands and sightless face to the heavens.

'More faithful guided to us. This is good, though the path to enlightenment is not an easy one. Firstly, you must remove that which is limiting and offensive. The unholy eyes are removed from your head during the sacred initiation. If you survive and are proven worthy, the Unseeing Eye accepts you into service.'

'Is that so?' Jaheira confirmed, sounding much more composed than she felt at his talk of such abhorrent acts being so casually meted out. She glanced about her. 'The sewers make a dangerous temple for the blind.'

He smiled again. 'The One God in his great benevolence has granted us a sense of our surroundings; our blindness is the cost of our enlightenment.'

'Yes, and it is a cost that is too high, I fear,' she answered briskly, bowing slightly as though to take her leave, Gaal continuing quickly to forestall her.

'It is a sign of weakness to refuse the enlightenment. Would you walk about willingly without arms, without feet?'

'You'd have a job to walk _anywhere_ without feet,' she heard Fritha mutter behind her and Nalia snorted. Jaheira shot a look back into the darkness.

'Still,' considered Gaal slowly, as though weighing every word, 'you are correct that there are dangers here for our brethren and the One God may well have a use for such as you… an exception perhaps could be made in your case.'

Jaheira dipped her head in acquiescence, hoping he sensed the movement rather than the slight smile it was concealing. 'I will listen.'

**...**

They returned to the others but a short while later, explaining to them their agreement to retrieve a rod of great value to the One God from the catacombs that lay beneath the sewers, the priest repeating over and over the route they had to take to reach the entrance to the lower caverns until they had learnt it by rote. Fritha glanced to the faces around her, the combined glow of the werelights revealing their doubts.

'So we are actually going to retrieve this item for them?' confirmed Anomen with a dubious frown. Fritha smiled.

'Retrieve it, yes; give it to Gaal, no. We are still supposed to be investigating the cult, and the nature of this artefact may shed some light on things. Besides, Gaal wants the artefact and I don't trust him, which means now _I_ want the artefact, if only so he can't get his hands on it.'

'But what will you do with it?' asked Aerie, looking slightly unnerved, the knowledge that they must travel even deeper underground clearly not resting well with her.

Fritha shrugged, turning to lead them onward with a grin, hoping her confidence would strengthen their own.

'Helm sent us down here, he can keep an unsleeping eye on it.'

Fritha took the lead with Jaheira, the pair remembering Gaal's directions between them, counting turnings and following the strange whitewash markers until at last they reached the door he'd described, Fritha drawing her sword as she slowly ascended the steps, glad, at least, to be finally out of the sewage. The door was unlocked and opened easily, though not without a slight groan, a guarded voice coming clear from the darkness beyond.

'Be wary, friends! Something has come before us, I can hear it!'

Jaheira was at her shoulder now, leaning forward with her staff to cast light over yet more blinded figures.

'More cultists?' the woman confirmed, barely concealing her disdain, 'What are you doing so far from the temple?'

'Yes, you'll miss evensong,' Fritha warned in a singsong voice.

One of the men shook his head, almost sadly, stumbling forward to meet them.

'You are mistaken, we are not cultists, child. Or perhaps it is more correct to say we are no longer. Please, if you do not know of us, I must assume you are not allies of the cult. Please, we have grave need of you.'

He stepped back, raising an arm to invite them in and Fritha glanced to Jaheira before moving forward, the man leading them off the main passage into a small stone cell, barely large enough for them all, the man waiting until the group was seated and settled before continuing once more.

'I am Sassar, once High Priest of the One God, now leader of the poor wretches you saw before. I was at one time a cleric to Helm, but I lost my way and was seduced by the cult of the Unseeing Eye-'

'You left Helm's service to ally yourself with these _heretics_?' came Anomen's voice, clearly outraged.

'Squire Anomen.'

Anomen shot Keldorn a look, but said no more and Sassar merely shook his head.

'None regret the decision more than I. When I discovered the true extent of the cult's evil, I escaped with others to come here, though the damage had already been wrought; my sight taken, my faith disgraced.'

'And you found Helm quite unforgiving of your mistake,' confirmed Fritha sadly. Sassar nodded.

'Indeed He was, though rightly so. For one sworn to the service of the God of Watchers, my crime was great indeed, though I did not know its true degree until too late…The One God is actually beholder; here for an artefact of such destructive power, the gods themselves deemed it should not be used again, splitting the device in two.'

'Ah, the rod,' confirmed Fritha, 'Gaal sent us to fetch it.'

'Indeed,' said Sassar, nodding gravely, 'the beholder already possesses one half and many of his disciples have died trying to retrieve the other. The half you seek is hidden in an ancient temple beneath us, the way well guarded by creatures and traps. We ourselves have made forays also, but we lost the senses gifted us by the beholder once we left the cult. Therefore I and the others have guarded the way in Helm's name ever since, with hopes to one day restore myself in His sight,' Sassar smiled ruefully, 'that He might restore mine.'

Fritha felt her heart go out to him; one mistake, albeit a grave one, had seen a clearly good man blinded and now eking out an existence in the sewers. She sighed, trying to force a brightness to her voice as she continued.

'Well, we were planning to retrieve the rod and take it to the temple of Helm for safe-keeping unless you have another idea of how it can be used.'

'Yes, yes, indeed I do, child,' Sassar cried earnestly, and Fritha could see his hands trembling in the gloom. 'As I said, the beholder already has the other half of the device, but if you can find the half from below, we may have a plan to acquire the beholder's half and use the power of the artefact to kill him.'

'Destroyed by the thing he desires most; how poetic,' observed Jaheira dryly. Fritha grinned.

'Even better! Bards love that sort of thing; I can see tales of this reaching all the way to the Gate.'

Sassar smiled, pointing to the narrow doorway behind him. 'The stairs to the lower caverns are just at the end of the passage. I shall pray for your safe return. Gods' speed.'

The group rose as one, filing through the door and along the passage to halt at the stairs, everyone making checks of their gear and weapons before the descent, Fritha helping Nalia to refill one of the lanterns; holding the lamp steady while the girl struggled to open the reservoir.

'Jaheira can we have some light please, we can't see what-' Fritha stopped, the pair glancing up with surprise as a soft white glow appeared above them, balanced in the large hand of the squire. 'Oh, thank you, Anomen.'

He nodded once, and seemed content to leave it at that, when-

'Before, you seemed to speak with experience… you know of Helm, my lady?'

Fritha glanced to him with a smile, the lantern getting heavier as Nalia filled it with oil. 'Hmm? Oh yes, I am well acquainted with the God of Watchers. I spent many hours in the service of one of his priests back in Candlekeep.'

'You did?' he exclaimed, quite unable to hide his amazement. She nodded mildly, the slight smile lingering as she turned back to Nalia.

'Ready?'

The girl nodded, returning the oil flask to her bag and lighting the wick with her flint, the flame growing steadily as she adjusted the valve and closed the pane, the shadows finally retreating. Fritha grinned, drawing her sword and turning to raise it above the waiting stairs in formal salute.

'For the One God!'


	10. In to the darkness

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**In to the darkness**

The shouts of friends and guttural roars mingled as they echoed through the tunnel, the leathery green spheres of gauths swooping and weaving in amongst the group, dodging blade and spell alike.

Aerie stood in the shadow of the ranger, working her magic from safely behind his blade, watching the gauths dart between her friends, teeth flashing as they snapped at any weakness before retreating again, most escaping to the shadows above them. But through the chaos Aerie suddenly caught a glimpse of red hair; Nalia, two gauths bearing down on her and the girl being forced back, any arrows that managed to find a target merely glancing off their tough hides. She knew any spell could just as likely hit her friend as well as the creatures and before she could think she had readied her staff and was flying out from Minsc's shelter.

Aerie stepped left, ducking under the swing of Keldorn's blade and halting an approaching gauth with a word, her heart racing as she watch Nalia struggling to nock another arrow. Suddenly, Fritha sprang from the shadows at the girl's side, her appearance so sudden she had felled the first gauth and wounded the second before they'd even a chance to retreat, Nalia finishing it with an arrow to the eye. Suddenly Nalia's struggles held an air of the staged, but whether planned or not, it seemed her friend was no longer in trouble and Aerie felt a cold vulnerability creep over her as she realised the danger she herself was in.

She whirled immediately, hoping to retreat back to Minsc. But fighting closed the way; the ranger joined by Jaheira and both on the other side of four gauths. A movement to her right and she turned just in time to guard against a bite, catching the gauth across the jaw, the creature retreating into the shadows above her before she could ready a spell. Aerie swallowed dryly, a real panic filling her as she cast about for an ally, the tunnel a chaos of blades and flashes.

Aerie held her staff ready, trying to catch the familiar hiss of gauths over the shouts and clashes of the fighting that raged about her, the shadows that hemmed the group in concealing untold enemies. A flare to her left and she dodged just in time, the bolt of energy flashing past her into the darkness, the gauth almost upon her as she straightened and it was not alone. Another two followed, all circling just out of reach looking for an opening. She drew up her hands for a spell, the gauths taking the opportunity and sweeping in, teeth ready.

Aerie lashed out with her staff again, biting back a curse as the nearest swooped easily out of reach, her arms aching as she moved immediately to swing at the next. But she was too slow, her staff getting heavier by the moment as she lunged for the third. It, however, was not so quick to retreat, darting at her face and she raised an arm, screaming as she felt the teeth sink in and instinct took over, the energies that left her hands doing nothing short of vaporising the creature, ash plastering her bloody arm.

'Aerie!' a voice behind her roared, and she whirled back to see the ranger fighting through the chaos to reach her.

'Minsc!' she screamed, one arm cradled in the other as she started forwarded, when the two gauths she had been fighting dropped suddenly from the shadows to block her path. Their attentions were on the approaching man though, the sudden discharge of energy almost blinding her, though through the daze she saw Minsc kill one before he fell, Jaheira appearing over him to engage the second, and at last it fell dead at her feet.

A groan before her and Aerie's vision cleared to reveal Minsc struggling to stand, Jaheira and Anomen already bent over him, trying to convince him otherwise as they unbuckled his breastplate.

'Is- is there anything I can…?' She trailed off into silence as it became clear neither had even noticed her speak, and Aerie retreated to stand against the tunnel wall, watching the others examine carcasses and check equipment, all oblivious to her.

Aerie sighed. They had been travelling the maze of tunnels for more than an hour before any sign of life had been seen, Jaheira finding a pit trap in the darkness that had probably been the end for more than one traveller in its time. Since then it had been one trap after another, the ones the Nalia could not disarm forcing them to go around or even backtrack to find another route. And it had been during one of those times that they had stumbled into the horde of gauths… The elf bit back a frustrated sob, pressing a wad of cloth into her bleeding arm and putting all her focus on keeping the magelight above her staff aglow; would _every _quest they accepted lead them through some sun-forsaken labyrinth?  
She winced as the ranger groaned again, Jaheira's curse echoing about the tunnel, concern for Minsc and her own guilt merely adding to her worries from the morning.

Her earlier visit to the circus had started as it usually did, her friends all gathering about her once she had awoken from her rest, ready for news of what she had been doing. And she had felt an unaccustomed pride as she'd described to them her last few days away from the city, rescuing Nalia's castle and showing them the gold she had earned; clearly not a vast sum for the company she held now, but a good tenday's earnings for a circus performer. But as she'd talked, the atmosphere had seemed to change. Quayle was the same warm soul as he had always been, but she'd found the others growing quiet and withdrawn, unwilling to share their own news and excusing themselves one by one until it had been just her and the old gnome left. Of course, she'd asked him what was wrong, what she had done to upset everyone so, and he had sat before her silent for what seemed like an age as he deliberately filled his pipe, until finally he'd sighed and she remembered his words with painful clarity.

'_Can't you see it yourself, girl? Their problem isn't with you, but with themselves. Before you were all the same, normal folk with normal cares; now you're off saving Faerûn and they just feel mundane by comparison. How do stories of new tricks and quarrelling performers compare with sieges and trolls? I expect they were worried of boring you. I know you don't care, Aerie, but it can't be undone. You are not like them now, no longer the frightened little girl I took in so long ago… Aerie, you're special. This new lot you've fallen in with, they're your sort… all brim full of fight and destiny. You're one of them now, you can't keep clinging to this old life_.'

Aerie had told him she didn't care, that there was no difference, but deep inside she'd known he was right. She could visit the circus as many times as she pleased, but she would never again be a part of it.

The elf sighed, tightening her grip on the cloth at her arm. It was all very well for Quayle to say she had outgrown the circus, but it did not mean she fit in with her new group, and Aerie felt anchorless without the idea of her old life there waiting for her, as though abandoned between two worlds. Her new friends were nice enough, of course, but the more time she spent with them, the more she felt she did not belong. There was just something about these people, a certain fluency that made her feel like she was just playing at things.

Minsc and Jaheira were clearly old hands, Fritha led with a confidence that spoke of experiences well beyond her years, and the squire too, for all his youth, had been training for battle since his early teens. Even _Nalia_ seemed to have found her place in the group, always at hand with lockpicks or well-placed arrow, and she felt a twinge of jealousy at the thought.  
Aerie shook her herself, angry at her own pettiness. Nalia had just lost everything she had ever known, she should be glad her friend had found her place in the world. And on the whole, Aerie considered, she was happy the girl had found her niche; it was just so frustrating that she had not.

Aerie sighed crossly; this should not be so difficult! She had already lost one life when the slavers captured her. But, then, it had been she, not her family who had been stolen away, and she often imagined them living in Faenya Dail still; her father working on his sculptures in the studio, her sisters, Helia and Euripal in the garden, combing their hair or chasing birds, just as they had when she'd left them. Aerie shook her head, as though to scatter the memories. That life was dead for her now. She could no longer return to the city; to watch her kinsmen soaring over the mountains as she once had would be a torture she could not bear. But she had found Quayle and the circus and the pain had eased. Aerie understood that change was a natural part of life and in her heart she knew the circus no longer had a place for her, so why was it proving so difficult to relinquish it?

She aimed a frustrated kick at the nearest stone, the pebble taking flight only to strike the tunnel wall, the sharp clack echoing about her. Anomen glanced up at the noise and she turned away, worried he could see the unrest on her face. At least he had stopped picking on her now, which was certainly more than could be said for the druid, she considered as she glanced back to see Jaheira stalking towards her, a bandage ready in her hands and a look that suggested she would have liked nothing better than to hang her with it.

'By Silvanus, Aerie,' she began as soon as she reached her, gently covering her arm in salve and beginning to bind it up, 'if you cannot fight in close combat, I suggest you avoid it! I won't always be here to tend you!'

Aerie swallowed, wishing ardently that the woman would lower her voice. 'I-I'm a healer too, Jaheira.'

But the woman merely snorted. 'Yes, and a lot of good you'll be to us half-dead!' she snapped, pulling the knot tight, 'Stay out of the melee in future!'

Aerie dropped her face, feeling the blush surge as the druid stalked back to the now standing Minsc, Fritha and Nalia appearing instantly at her shoulder.

'And it's cold out, so put on your mittens-' scolded Fritha, wagging a finger at her.

'And don't slouch-' came Nalia in quite a good likeness of her aunt.

'Oh shut up!' Aerie snapped, surprising herself with her own sharpness. But thankfully, neither girl seemed offended.

'Aerie, dear,' Fritha laughed gently, throwing an arm across her shoulders and giving her a heartening squeeze, 'why so sad? I know Jaheira can seem a little harsh at times, but she doesn't mean anything by it; it's just her way. If anything, it shows she cares…'

Aerie sniffed slightly, stubbornly shrugging her off. That may be so, but it hardly served to make things any better. Not fitting in was bad enough, but there was just something about the druid that never failed to make her feel like a silly little girl. 'It's all right for you,' she muttered, face still lowered, 'it's me she singles out.'

But Fritha just snorted. '_Oho_, Jaheira has had _months_ to get used to me. Do you really think we were like this from the beginning?'

Aerie looked up slowly, never really considering that the woman would have _ever_ scolded Fritha like that. Yes, they would have fought. In fact, you would have had to be blind not to notice their recent quarrels; the cruel bloody sort of fighting that only close friends could do, or forgive. But sharp though they had been, they were still the arguments of equals and Aerie could not imagine Jaheira rebuking Fritha as she had just her.

'Wh-What was she like back then?'

Fritha shook her head, a wistful smile playing on her lips as she gazed off into the darkness.

'Ah, she hated me… We had Imoen and Dynaheir with us back then, but even so, I still think there was a little place in her heart reserved for me.' She sighed gently, turning back to her still smiling, 'but time passed and we got used to each other. I can't imagine life without her now.'

'Aunty was the same, dearest,' came Nalia with a gentle smile, 'her sharp words always hiding some genuine care for me… or my reputation at least,' she added with a frown that suggested she wasn't sure whether to be offended by such misplaced concern, and Aerie felt instantly ashamed of herself. Nalia had just lost her home and her family, and there the girl was trying to cheer _her_ up. But before either of them could say any more, a deep voice called her name and Nalia took her lantern to a narrow section of tunnel where Keldorn was stood with the druid, suspicious looking scorch marks peppering the walls.

'Looks like they've found another trap,' commented Fritha absently at her side, 'still, at least we're probably on the right track, eh?'

Aerie tried to return her smile, but it would not come and she dropped her face again. 'I should not be complaining of this to her.'

Fritha sighed, seeming to understand her meaning without further explanation.

'Aerie, dear, just because Nalia is suffering, doesn't mean you can't too. Still,' she continued, her eyes drifting back over to where Nalia and the old paladin were stood talking, 'it's a shame the boy Isea was not more like our Keldorn here. I think it likely we would not be so much pitying, as envying her,' she finished with a roguish grin.

It was clear what Fritha was trying to do: distract her from her melancholy with some inappropriate and not to mention childish gossiping. But, Aerie considered as she felt her lips twitching, it seemed stubborn to deny so ready a diversion. She smiled shyly.

'Well, his armour is _awfully_ shiny.'

Fritha threw her head back and laughed warmly, a mixture of genuine amusement and triumph that the game had been taken up, and Aerie could not help but join her. Perhaps she had a place there after all.

xxx

Anomen felt his jaw clench as yet another round of quiet giggles erupted from the two girls before him. This was the _last_ time he travelled with a group comprised mainly of young women!

They had left the site of the battle and had been continuing on through the caverns for almost an hour now, Minsc and Jaheira at their head. Nalia was walking abreast with Keldorn behind them, the paladin telling her of a campaign her father and he had both served in when they were but squires themselves; the tale apparently a humorous one for the girl was laughing for first time since Anomen had met her. But, which unfortunately left him bringing up the rear just behind Fritha and Aerie, who, it seemed, also appreciated the man's efforts with their friend, for they had not stopped talking about him since they had set off, the pair whispering and laughing and generally behaving like children.

He glanced to them now, neither making any attempt to hide their admiration, their eyes trained on the old knight as they chattered. If it wasn't enough that the insufferable Keldorn was now with them, always on hand to mete out criticism and generally make him feel like a child, without his companions suddenly falling over themselves to worship the man as well!

Anomen scowled, unable to bear their idiocy a moment longer and leaning forward with an angry hiss. 'Really! The pair of you are acting as though you have never encountered a paladin before.'

The girls turned back to him, quite surprised at being interrupted so, though Fritha recovered first.

'Well, to be fair, _I_ haven't. But I shouldn't mind to in future, if they're all like him,' she grinned, fanning her pale face with a casual hand and throwing Aerie a smirk, 'oh, he's just so _gallant_.'

'My lady!' Anomen spluttered, trying to overcome his disbelief, 'He is a married man!'

But the girl merely rolled her eyes, the elf giggling quietly as Fritha turned back to answer him.

'Of course he is married, Anomen, and so he should be. My observations were not to _those_ ends. He's just so…' she paused, smiling warmly as she searched for the word, '…lovely. All old and wise and compassionate.'

She glanced to Aerie and they both beamed foolishly at each other. Anomen snorted crossly. Fritha was very hard to read. Although he had been concerned by her more eccentric traits, she had seemed capable and quick, with patience that was, though sometimes misplaced, undeniably impressive. But the more he associated with her, the more idiotic she revealed herself to be! Wandering off to find Gaal with barely half the group, her abject refusal to admit that rule by the Order would make Amn a just society for all, and the way she was now giggling with Aerie over a man old enough to be her father!

'He's not old enough to be _Aerie_'s father', had been her impertinent reply when he'd voiced that concern.

Aerie herself was ahead of Fritha now, holding a furtive conversation with Nalia that was punctuated by much giggling, and Fritha dropped back to walk next to him, though her eyes still watched the girls with a mild interest.

'Lost your cohorts?' he asked, barely keeping the sneer from his voice.

Fritha glanced to him a moment before seeming to realise what he meant, nodding to the pair as she answered.

'Aerie's just asking Nalia if Keldorn has any sons of our age,' she replied with a grin and Anomen frowned, sincerely hoping this was another of her jokes.

'If he did, they would surely be members of the Order and _I_ would know about them.'

'Not necessarily,' she said casually, 'besides, I doubt you would take the time to acquaint yourself with one so much younger than you, even if he were a member.'

'_One so much younger_?' he repeated, hardly able to believe her cheek, 'how _old_ do you think I am?'

She shrugged slightly, giving him an appraising look. 'About thirty years?'

'_Thirty_!'

'Older?'

'Fritha, I have seen but twenty-four winters! You truly believe I look thirty?'

She shrugged again, an air of nonchalance about her as she continued. 'Well, your beard covers a lot of your face; I suppose you just seem older. I mean, if you were to judge my age on merely my manner, how old would you place me?'

'Twelve,' he answered sourly, but the girl seemed not to take the insult as it was meant.

'Exactly. As it is, I am almost _double_ that!' she exclaimed, as though it was something he should have trouble believing. 'So it just shows, you really can't tell, can you.'

Anomen scowled as the girl sent him a dazzling smile. No, you really couldn't tell.

Fritha turned her attention back to the path ahead of them before she lost her composure completely and burst out laughing. Her efforts at cheering Aerie had rubbed off on herself as well, and though annoying Anomen had seemed to be an entertaining consequence of their discussions, Aerie was now immersed in conversation with Nalia, and Fritha decided it was as good a chance as any to reconcile herself with the squire.

'Anomen.'

'Yes,' came the snap of a reply, and by the look on his face, she was fortunate to get that.

'I note that Keldorn serves in the Order under Torm and yet you serve in Helm's name; is the Order allied to a certain few faiths or may anyone join?'

He eyed her shrewdly a moment, as though trying to discern whether this would somehow be twisted into another joke. She sent him a sincere smile.

'Well, my lady,' he began finally, and Fritha did not fail to notice the renewed use of her title; a sure sign she was on her way to being forgiven. 'Any faith may join the Order; indeed it even accepts those who pledge allegiance to no god -though that is something I am not sure I agree with,' added sternly, with a frown that matched her own. 'But no, any man may put himself forward to be squired, as long as he has a knight to sponsor him and the wealth to cover the cost of training.'

'You have to _pay_?' she blurted out before she could stop herself, though thankfully he did not seem offended.

'Yes, but only to cover the initial costs of weapons and lessons in the first few years, until you can be sent on campaigns to earn your keep.'

'But what of those who cannot afford it?' she pressed, finding it hard to grasp how a group so obsessed with justice for all could be so unfair. 'Their desire to join may be no less.'

Anomen gave her a warm albeit slightly patronising smile, as though he was resisting the urge to pat her on the head. 'I see your outrage at this perceived injustice. Indeed, my lady, it does you credit, for it can be a hard path to the Order for those without coin. I myself was without funding for my initial training, for my father refused me, and had it not been for the intervention of my mother, I would not have been accepted at all. She has long passed now, but while she lived she was a devoted follower of Helm and friend to Sir Ryan Trawl.'

He smiled slightly at some undisclosed memory and Fritha found herself quite warmed by the sincerity of his gesture, until he glanced back to her and the air of arrogance was about him once more.

'My mother petitioned the knight-commander on my behalf, begging him not to turn me away and so he allowed me to enter as a novitiate of Helm. I was sent to a seminary where I trained as a cleric and learnt my sword arts from the guardians of the temple to eventually join the Order as a squire. A long road it has been, my lady… but I am pleased to serve in the Order under Helm's name -and I trust that Helm is pleased with me, as well,' he added rather smugly.

Fritha considered he probably was, and not to either's credit.

'But what of you, Fritha?' he continued, shaking her from her thoughts, 'you are a force for righteousness and honour. Why do you not request to join the Order and achieve glory as well?'

Fritha frowned slightly as the rather ridiculous image of her in full plate, brandishing a sword as tall as she was rose unbidden behind her eyes.

'I didn't think they let women in.'

'Well, they do not accept them as squires, no, but if the lady has proven her worth already, they will accept her into the ranks after a few tests of virtue have been completed.'

'Proven her worth?' she repeated with a bark of laughter, 'Then I sincerely doubt they would have me, Anomen. Besides,' she continued with an easy smile, 'I have no need for glory, and I am sure the Order has no need for someone like me.'

'No, no, you are as likely right,' Anomen began and it was only when she turned to nod that she noticed the anger in his eyes, 'the Order would have no need at all for one who would deal with thieves and heretics!'

Fritha blinked owlishly, the suddenness of his attack leaving her speechless, though the squire was by no means finished.

'One who jests and prattles when silence would serve! One who- who cannot even muster the will to fight against the injustices of this land!'

His anger finally spent, he quickened his pace, making to brush past her again. But Fritha had no intention of being snubbed for the second time that day, her voice echoing gloriously as she shouted after him.

'Well, I am glad we are in agreement then, though why they should want _your_ company instead is beyond me!' she snapped, leaving unspoken the fact that, at the moment, they did not.

He paused, form rigid, before carrying on his path to their head and Fritha let him go, eyes focused his back and taking an angry pleasure in watching his ears grow steadily redder.

Jaheira watched as the squire marched towards herself and Minsc, only to fall into step with Keldorn at the paladin's gentle intervention and leaving Fritha to bring up the rear alone, just on the edge of the light. Jaheira sighed tersely, pausing to give Minsc a nod before turning to pass the two quietly chattering girls and the stiffly silent warriors, at last falling into step with her.

'I see you and the knightling are speaking again,' she commented with a frown to Anomen's back and Fritha shot her a look.

'Oh _yes_,' the girl muttered savagely, 'we're getting on like a house on fire, complete with falling beams and screaming occupants.'

Jaheira snorted; if Fritha was still in the mood for such turns of wit then she doubted the squire had done that much damage.

'Would you like me to speak with him?' she offered, already knowing the girl's response.

'No,' Fritha sighed, running a hand through her hair, 'and _I'd_ rather not talk about it either; I'm finding it very hard to remain objective at the moment.'

Jaheira nodded her acceptance. 'As you wish, though it is nice to see you are not without temper; your patience is commendable, but I worry sometimes it signifies a lack of something else.'

'Like what?'

'Like a regard for your own feelings,' Jaheira warned and the girl turned away, clearly unwilling to hear the lecture as she continued. 'Fritha, being the leader does not mean you have to bear the brunt of everyone's tantrums.'

'I bore yours, didn't I?' she muttered sullenly and Jaheira felt herself colour, her guilt quick to resurface though she was not alone. 'I'm sorry,' continued Fritha all in a rush, her dismay instant, 'I really am. I didn't mean that, it's just this quarrelling with Anomen has left me out of sorts.'

Jaheira nodded her acceptance of this hasty apology, a moment's silence falling between them before-

'You know, he does not have to be a member of this group…'

Fritha shrugged, looking suddenly tired.

'No, he doesn't -and I suspect he is thinking exactly the same at this moment,' she added with a humourless laugh. 'But he is good at what he does and his association with the temple has already found us this work. I mean, he's fine usually… well, he's _all right_ anyway,' she conceded at Jaheira's look. Fritha sighed. 'I shall just have to learn to be more accepting.'

'_You'll_ have to learn?' Jaheira repeated incredulously, the girl's acquiescence only riling her further, 'did I somehow misunderstand his screaming at you a moment ago?'

'No,' Fritha conceded slowly, 'but I was not blameless in things. I had been teasing him not long before.'

Jaheira raised a stern eyebrow. 'About _what_?'

'Pretending I thought he was a lot older than he clearly is,' Fritha confessed, giggling slightly as she recalled it. 'He got all pink in the face. "_Thirty?_" It was very funny. I thought it might lighten the air a touch; he's been agitated ever since Keldorn joined us, but you saw yourself the ultimate result.'

Jaheira snorted crossly, turning to throw another glare at the squire. It had been unreasonable of him to shout at Fritha over something so small, if indeed that was the what was riling him, and Jaheira felt sure that the arrival of Keldorn had done more to influence the squire's behaviour than any teasing Fritha, who he seemed to hold so little regard for anyway, could have done.

'Well that _was _ridiculous. As though you could mistake him for anything but a child with the way he behaves! Between him and the elf, I'm not sure whether we are heading a mercenaries' group or a nursery.'

'Leave Aerie be, Jaheira,' Fritha sighed, unwilling to see all her previous work in cheering the girl undone. Jaheira snorted, opening her mouth to continue and she interrupted her evenly, 'We have all lost, Jaheira. You, I… why not her as well?'

'You know something,' Jaheira pressed and Fritha glanced to where Aerie was walking ahead of them, looking small and frail in the grey glow of her staff.

'I know too much,' she said at last with a nonchalant shrug and Jaheira seemed to know from experience that that would be the end of it, a silence falling between them that neither felt the need to break.

The sound of raised voices behind him and Keldorn turned with an unpleasant certainty to see Anomen exercising his temper upon the girl, Fritha. Though she herself seem to be suffering in anything but silence as the pair parted, Anomen marching towards the head of the party as though to put as much distance between them as possible. Though the squire's behaviour was really not very different to that of other young men of his age within the Order, all being passionate and combative when it came to matters of justice and honour, yet without the age and the wisdom to temper such zeal, it was something the lad should be learning to control. Something that only seemed to be proving more difficult the longer he spent outside the Order's structured hierarchies.

Keldorn sighed, waiting until the squire drew level before drawing a measured breath and halting him.

'Squire Anomen.'

The lad seemed to shudder at his words, and Keldorn could almost see his desire to just carry on to the head of the group, though his sense of propriety eventually won over and he dropped back slightly to walk at his side, stiffly answering his summons.

'Sir Keldorn.'

The paladin nodded once and they walked on in silence a moment or two longer, giving the lad's temper time to settle before he spoke again.

'I noticed you and the girl, Fritha, are having a disagreement of sorts,' he started conversationally, Anomen needing little more prompting to take up the discussion.

'Before you begin, I am well aware it was not the appropriate way to address a lady!' he snapped, though to his credit, he did flush soundly at the admission and Keldorn shook his head. Although the lad often acted in anger, his subsequent contrition could never be doubted.

'Anomen,' Keldorn sighed, wondering mildly how his own knight had resisted in braining him when he himself had been as brash and choleric as the young squire, 'I do not believe it was the appropriate way to address _anyone_. But the question of why you did so, still remains.'

Anomen hung his head slightly, as though embarrassed to recall it. 'I do not know. We were speaking of the Order, she was asking me of the different faiths and, and- I just find it all so frustrating at times!' he burst out with sudden fervour. 'I joined with this group to earn glory in the eyes of the Order, to distinguish myself from my peers, and though I have travelled with them for nigh on five days now, there has been nothing! The girl did not even allow us to accompany her when meeting with Gaal! I know the Order teaches patience, but it seems as though I am to be taunted at every turn!'

Keldorn sighed, halting as those before him did, the group rounding a corner in the tunnel to reveal a vast cavern, a huge stone temple stood within. The very building itself seemed to shine with its own inner light, stalactites glittering above them in the bluish glow and Keldorn could make out the dark silhouettes of hooded figures milling about before it. If Sassar was to be believed, they may well have found their artefact. Fritha and the druid had moved past them to speak with Minsc, Nalia and Aerie stood together at the tunnel mouth, talking quietly as they watched the temple with a quiet awe and the paladin returned his gaze to the man next to him.

'Anomen, if this path was easy all would walk it.'

'Fritha would not,' he snapped sullenly, '_she_ does not care for such things! How am I supposed to achieve the goal I seek in such company that cannot even understand the importance of the Order to Amn?'

Keldorn shook his head, lowering his voice slightly in hope that Anomen would do the same as the two women before them exchanged a look, the druid turning back to throw them a glare.

'Perhaps they do not, but why do you assume that it will be an obstacle? You are in their company now, destroying a great evil and at your god's request no less.' The paladin sighed again, laying a hand upon Anomen's arm as though trying to will the truth of his words into the lad. 'Anomen, I understand your eagerness to attain a knighthood, I was the same myself once. But if you become too focused on this goal you will lose sight of the path to it; just serve Helm and do good in the Order's name, you will find the recognition you seek.'

But if anything this request for patience only seemed to make him more belligerent, and the old paladin could do nothing but shake his head with despair as Anomen quit his company to march past the others and up to the strange cowled figures, leaving the rest of them little choice but to follow.

'What is this place?' he demanded as he reached them, the strangers barely lifting their eyes at his arrival, something which only seemed to infuriate the squire further. 'Speak now or suffer my wrath!'

'Little do they know, they're getting off lightly,' Fritha muttered, the paladin watching as Jaheira nodded curtly.

'Yes, we must suffer his company.'

Fritha snorted noisily into her hand, still smiling as she moved to join the lad.

'Stand down, Anomen,' she interrupted easily, 'these people look to have faced much worse than you.'

And she was correct, Keldorn considered as he stepped up beside her, the light from their lamps falling across the figures to reveal hanging faces of decaying skin, as grey and lifeless as the surrounding stone.  
Anomen was glaring at her, clearly furious, though Fritha paid him no mind, turning instead to give the nearest figure a polite bow, 'Please forgive our intrusion.'

The figure remained silent for just long enough for the girl to clearly begin to wonder whether he had understood her, when at last he shrugged and answered, his tone one of total apathy.

'It matters not at all. I have nothing to hide from you and would not care even if I did,' he gestured slightly to the figures that still milled listlessly about them, all but ignoring their presence, 'I think you'll find we care about very little at all.'

Fritha shrugged as well. 'All right, then tell us who you are.'

The man sighed deeply, his breath coming stale as an ancient tomb.

'Ah you wish the exposition. Typical,' he began, this faint air of bitter humour the only life about him. 'We are the guardians. We guard the temple. This is _very_ important because every few hundred years or so someone nearly _always_ wanders this way.'

'A-Are you ill?' came the voice of the avariel behind him, hesitantly worried and Keldorn made a note to commend her on it later, her concern for others a credit to her.

The man sighed again, dully considering a rotting hand. 'It is the decay of our minds and souls. We have grown to hate the power that sustains us, and so we rot.'

'Then why do you stay?' asked Fritha.

Again a sigh and shrug. 'We cannot leave. We cannot even die. We are born again in an endless cycle of souls. It has been so for millennia.'

'But who sustains you?' the girl continued, a slight urgency creeping into her tone, clearly wanting to help them, but still unsure how. 'Who is your temple dedicated to?'

'The temple?' he repeated, glancing back to the building as though vaguely surprised to find it there. 'It has been so long since we have uttered the god's name, it has been forgotten by most. What loyalty do we owe a creature that would condemn us to this?' He snorted bitterly, turning away from them to rejoin his brethren. 'Take what you will from the temple. We are guardians in name only.'

The girl watched him go, before sighing herself and leading them up to the dark stone doors of the temple, waiting wordlessly for Keldorn and Anomen to step forward to open them, the squire's surprise mirroring his own at their unexpected lightness, the solid doors swinging open easily at the slightest touch. Fritha glanced to him and Keldorn nodded, the pair entering side-by-side.

Inside a huge hall stretched out before them, easily rivalling the Helmite temple there in Athkatla in size, though it was much more elaborate in its design. A high vaulted roof arced overhead supported by two rows of ornately carved pillars, everything in the same deep blue stone, while underfoot, an intricate pattern of sunbursts was worked in gold and blue tiles. In the distance, Keldorn could just make out a set of steps leading up to the alter, a bowl of intense blue fire burning brightly upon the top, bathing all in an eerie washed out light. There was something about that place; some sense of ancient weariness that seemed to weigh on the spirit and made him feel his fifty years, though his younger companions did not seem to notice.

'It's beautiful,' he heard someone breath behind him, the paladin glancing back to see Fritha staring up at the arches with awe. Keldorn went to answer her when another cut him off, the whole group seeming to start as a voice before them rasped, 'Who walks in the temple of I?'

The form of a man had appeared in the central aisle, so frail an apparition that Keldorn could still see the outline of the altar through it, though its presence seemed to fill the temple; a consciousness much larger than anything that could be comprehended, to the point where is seemed to overwhelm his own. It was a feeling Keldorn himself had experienced only a handful of times before. Once when in prayer for the safe deliver of his first child, another time when just a squire, preparing for the final assault on the pass he and his comrades had been holding from the orcs, and even though this feeling was much weaker, he was in no doubt what had just appeared before them. Whoever that ancient temple was dedicated to, they had not yet passed so far into obscurity as to eliminate their presence there.

'Tread with care, friends, this is no mere spirit.'

Fritha nodded once and he could see the understanding in her eyes, though the girl seemed undaunted by the knowledge, squaring her shoulders to answer it.

'Fritha walks here.'

The apparition considered her thoughtfully.

'The guardians let you pass?'

'_Let me pass_?' Fritha repeated incredulously, her surprise seeming to banish what little trepidation she may have had. 'They practically invited me in.'

The avatar flickered, shock evident on its face.

'What is this you speak of? Why have the guardians failed in their duties? The great device was placed in their care; this temple built to house it, the guardians given over to protect it. This was the letter of the contract.'

Keldorn shook his head gravely. 'You are no longer worshipped here. Ages have passed since this temple was built and those outside have lost their faith.' He sighed to add sadly, 'They feel nothing but loathing for you.'

The avatar flared brightly and Keldorn sensed its fury.

'But they must serve! It is the letter of the agreement. They are to guard and I will sustain them. This is to be for all time.'

'But they are suffering!' Fritha cried, clearly outraged at the injustice of it. 'And for what? They guard against nothing, no one comes!'

A righteous anger swept over him and for a moment, Keldorn thought it would attempt to strike out at the girl, an eternity of unwavering deference making her outburst seem all the more insolent, when suddenly it seemed to change, an unexpected air of sadness about it.

'Ah, I sense it… Much time has passed and I weep for my children, they that have suffered for so long.' It sighed and the weariness of the place suddenly seemed overwhelming, the paladin tightening his grip upon his sword hilt, the familiar weight of the blade solid and reassuring as the avatar continued. 'The letter of the agreement was that I protect the great device until the end of time, but even it has waned in power and is not so epic a danger as once was thought…'

It paused, gazing about at them all, and when it spoke again its words rang with an obstinate strength.  
'I will reinterpret the agreement, for surely I should protect the device until the end of _my_ time, and that is nigh. The intent of the bargain was that the great device would not be used again and if it is indeed the end of time, then my last act should be to destroy it.'

'Hang on,' Fritha cried, quickly raising a hand to forestall it, 'we need it first!'

The avatar turned its gaze upon her. 'Yes, child, I see in your mind your plans. You seek the great device for another, though you owe them no allegiance and they intend to kill you.'

Anomen coughed pointedly, but said nothing. The apparition nodded.

'The course is simple. You will take the great device and weaken it, then return it to me. Tell my people you carry the piece so that you might deplete it. They must know I intent to destroy it… but more than that, they must know I intend to end their service. The small amount of faith this will instil, even for a short while, will give me the power to destroy the artefact upon your return.'

It nodded once more and Keldorn heard Fritha gasp as a slender blue rod materialised in her still raised hand, the girl almost dropping it in her surprise.

'Go in peace, my children.'

**...**

Fritha led them back through the doors, the one they had spoken to just previously glancing up at the sound, voice half-bored, half-derisive as he approached them.

'So, have you enjoyed your visit?'

'Yes, thank you,' answered Fritha without thinking, such niceties drilled into her from an early age. Jaheira caught her with an elbow, though the leader seemed not to notice, his eyes fixed on the rod in her hands.

'You… you have the great device!' he breathed, his voice gaining a sudden passion, the other guardians rousing slightly at the commotion. 'Wh-What are you doing with that? It cannot be moved! It has not been moved in millennia!'

'It is the will of your god,' came Keldorn behind her, and Fritha considered that if his deep confident tones didn't convince them, nothing could. 'It is his command that the rod be taken from this place and weakened, that he may destroy it.'

The man stared at them a moment, eyes hard, before shaking his head, the determined weariness about him once more. 'I do not believe you. If you have the device it is only because our god is even weaker than we imagined.'

Fritha shrugged, signalling for the others to follow her as she turned to leave. 'You will see. We will return and you will be freed from your service.'

'Nothing changes here,' he shouted after her, almost defiantly, 'you will not return and we will not be freed.'

Fritha felt her hand tighten about the rod, the blue enamel patterns that covered its surface smooth under her fingers. They _would_ be freed, as would Sassar… as would Imoen.


	11. An eye for an eye

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**An eye for an eye**

'Sassar,' Fritha called brightly, her voice echoing slightly in the stairwell as she climbed, the others behind her, 'Sassar, we're back.'  
She tripped up the last few steps, light from her lantern opening out the room beyond and Sassar stepped from the shadows, a hand outstretched towards her.

'You have returned, we- we dared not hope. You found the artefact?'

'Yes, eventually,' she answered, gently taking his hand to place the rod into it, the man starting slightly at the feel of the cool enamel. 'Though that's not all we found down there.'

The others had followed her into the room by now and they all took seats as they had before, Sassar next to her as Fritha told the story of their journey to the temple and the misery they had found there.

'But,' she continued, trying to cheer both the outcasts and her own companions after what had been a rather depressing tale, 'the avatar said if we return the artefact to it once we're done, it will free the guardians from their service. Which all fits nicely together, for we need to weaken the device first and I'm sure destroying the beholder will do just that; once we've the other half, of course. Have you any news of how we can reach it?'

Sassar nodded, smiling slightly and she could tell her attempt at brightness amused him.

'Indeed, child, I have. The Unseeing Eye stays mostly within the beholder tunnels that run beneath the sewers. Usually, the only way to enter them is through the temple, but there is another way, a staircase within this very complex in fact, and known only to the beholder.' He smiled wryly, 'or so it believes. I found the way by chance when I served as his priest, though it remains barred with wards and locks beyond the skills of most. However, we still have contacts in the beholder's service, ones who stayed to act spies despite the danger, and in your absence one of them has acquired for us the key…'

He drew a metal disc from the loose fraying folds of his robes and she waiting as he found her hand and pressed the key into it, one side smooth, the other an intricate pattern of grooves and barbs.

'The cult holds a mass in the hour before dawn that the beholder attends, leaving his lair unguarded. I have sentries ready to inform us when the ceremony begins.'

Fritha shrugged, taking her flask from her bag and shifting slightly in an effort to get more comfortable.  
'Then I suppose all we do now is wait.'

And so they waited, night waning in the world above them. Jaheira and Anomen were busying themselves over Minsc, who was still suffering since the fight with the gauths, while Keldorn had moved out into the hall and Fritha suspected he was praying, she herself sat with the others, passing the time with idle talk.

'If we should die,' began Nalia, and Fritha smiled, the girl's conversational tone at odds with her words in a way that reminded her of Imoen, 'do you imagine the gods will stop the beholder? After all we will have given him something they themselves deemed no other should possess.'

'Well, they haven't pitched up to get _us_ yet, have they?' countered Fritha with a laugh.

'No, but we've only got half the rod, just as the beholder has. Wouldn't it be ironic if we assemble the rod and Ao just arrives and kills _us_ for doing so.'

Fritha and Nalia laughed, though Aerie did not look so amused and Sassar just sighed.

'I- I do not know, child. I would like to think the gods would read the good intent within your heart, but their motives can sometimes be beyond our mortal understanding. We must just put our faith in that whatever happen to us, they act for a greater purpose.'  
He shook his head, a quiet sadness to his face, 'it is a lesson that can be difficult to learn…'

Silence fell over them, a melancholy to the air that no one felt able to disturb and after a moment, Nalia and Aerie went back to their quiet chatter, Fritha turning to the man next to her.

'Sassar…' she began in little more than a whisper, unwilling to let the others hear her, 'Sassar, if we _do_ die, but the Beholder is destroyed along with us, will you find a way of returning the artefact to the temple. I know it's a lot to ask, but I couldn't stand the idea of the guardians all down there for another thousand years, growing only more bitter by the day and saying how they _knew _we wouldn't bring it back.'

Sassar smiled, patting her hand reassuringly.  
'I will, child… they sound as though they have suffered beyond all imagining. It is a subtle torture, to lose one's faith. To every day feel further from the one you once loved so dearly, so desperately waiting for a sign, until you begin to question whether you had ever felt anything at all, whether you hadn't just been deluding yourself. And then, when your faith _has _gone; such loneliness. You wonder if you would not be better off dead.'

He turned to her, mouth twisted with a bitter smile.  
'Can you believe, I found it a _relief _to serve the One God after such emptiness; if only I had known how much such a solace would cost me.'

xxx

Anomen stood, Minsc lain out at his feet while Jaheira finished adjusting his bandages, the criss-cross of bindings encircling the ranger's chest and shoulders. The attack by the gauths had cracked more than one rib, and while Anomen and the druid had managed to realign them soon after, it was imperative they did not shift again if they were to heal straight, though the tightness of the bindings left the man hard of breathing.

'There,' sighed Jaheira, straightening from where she had been crouched next to the ranger's chest, the fresh bandages that spanned it overly white in the gloom. 'I think we've done all we can. Rest is what you need now.'

'Yes, and Minsc and Boo will rest when evil does,' he laughed genially, wheezing slightly with the effort and Jaheira moved to pat his back.

Anomen turned away, feeling isolated by the quiet camaraderie that seemed to bond the rest of them; still a few more hours and it would no longer be his concern, and the next group he met he would not be so hasty to ally with.

Anomen shook himself, trying to banish the lingering resentment, letting his eyes drift listlessly over the room. Aerie and Nalia were buried in chatter as usual and Fritha was sat with Sassar, the man patting her hand with such a look of admiration on his face, he was surprised the man was not glowing.

'She has a good soul, that one,' came a familiar voice behind him and Anomen turned, ready for the look of self-assured piety on the old paladin's face; he was not disappointed.

Anomen glanced back to the pair with a disdainful snort.  
'_That _is debateable, though if she does, it is wasted on the likes of _him_.'

'Is it indeed?' confirmed Keldorn mildly, 'the sages say you must walk in a man's shoes before you can truly judge him. But,' he continued, his voice sterner, 'whatever Sassar's crimes, you cannot doubt his desire to make reparation for them. I imagine serving a god who no longer acknowledges you is much harder than giving worship to one who manifests Himself, be it through powers or presence. And I am sure the encouragement of one of his own would mean much to him.'

Anomen blinked, hardly able to believe what the knight seemed to be insinuating.  
'_One of his own_? You wish _me_ to speak with him?'

Keldorn's face remained impassive.  
'Sassar once held Helm's favour as you do; I merely wish you to look into your heart and consider what it and your faith would have you do.'

Anomen frowned, a guilty conflict writhing inside him. It wasn't an order and he could easily refuse the paladin. After all, Sassar was a heretic who had abandoned the worship of Helm to serve one of the most evil creatures to ever come within the city walls. But Sassar had also left the cult of his own volition and had been living in the sewers ever since trying to work against the sect, and a very small part of Anomen felt a certain sympathy towards the priest.

It was the same part that reminded him sometimes that he was neither the best of clerics nor indeed the best of men, and with reluctant steps Anomen moved to stand before the pair, Keldorn still at his back.

Fritha glanced up as he arrived, the girl looking wordlessly from him to the paladin and suddenly she was on her feet as well, smiling down at Sassar.

'Well, I should really check on my friend. Hey Minsc, how are you feeling?'  
And without another glance to either of them, she was gone.

Sassar raised his face to them, the calm smile he had worn with Fritha still lingering.  
'I sense you before me; speak if you will.'

Anomen straightened self-consciously and sank stiffly down beside the man, Keldorn moving off to join the girl and Minsc.  
'I would talk to you, _priest_.'

If Sassar noticed the title, he pretended not to, the smile never wavering as he confirmed, 'ah, the squire isn't it? Now what did they call you… Anomen?'

Anomen frowned, the man's genial air angering him slightly. That the man could feel anything but wretched after such crimes seemed even more of an insult, though Sassar continued on oblivious.

'I recognise your voice from before, when I told your friends of my past. You spoke with a passion that once matched my own; you are of the Watchers, yes?'

'That is so,' Anomen confirmed, moving quickly to add, 'and just because I am here, do not think I excuse your heresy.'

Sassar shrugged serenely.  
'It is not _your _forgiveness I seek.'

Silence fell between them; the moment's hanging on Anomen as he struggled with himself, before Sassar finally spoke again.  
'Well, are you going to ask me?'

'Ask you what?' Anomen snapped, very aware of the question that was burning on his tongue. _Why?  
_Sassar just smiled, amused and sad at the same time, and drawing a deep breath he began.

'As you know, I was once a priest of Helm and had been so for many years. I headed a small temple to Him on the edge of the slum district, offering guidance and protection to the people there. Then all changed… It was a year or so ago now; do you recall last summer when the Flamerule heat peaked and plague swept across the city? First my wife, then my young son came down the disease and despite my prayers and ministrations, after many agonising days they both died.'

'And you blamed Helm for not saving them,' concluded Anomen, an edge of disdain creeping into his voice.

'No, indeed, I did not!' Sassar snapped, angry for the first time Anomen had witnessed, though he mastered himself quickly, calmly continuing his tale.

'Many had died in the plague, why should Helm have saved my family over another's; that would have been unfair and I did not expect it. But you cannot know the grief their passing left me with. I know the Helmites can be accused of being cold and aloof, their wives more concerned with the duties of marriage, than the joys.'

Anomen swallowed, recalling his own mother and stalwart way she adhered to the vows that bound her to the cruel drunkard that was his father.

'But Miriam and I shared love of an intensity that would sometimes frighten me! And my dear Idris; barely three years he had been in the world, but already so bold and full of life. When they were taken from me I felt as though all joy had been leeched from the world; I was desolate, without hope. Yet still my faith did not waver. I spent day upon day in prayer to my god, barely rising from my knees to eat or sleep. All I wanted was some sign, some feeling that I was not alone, that he was with me still.'

Sassar shook his head.

'But one tenday slipped into two and before I realised it a month had passed and I still felt as empty and isolated as when I had first buried them. I found I began to pray less and less. Where once I exalted in the upkeep of the temple, I ignored my duties, doing only what was minimal. My services became habitual and passionless, and soon I stopped holding them altogether. What was the point in praying when there was no answer? I started to wonder if I had ever felt anything at all… And then… and then I met the cult, and I remember the feeling so clearly, the relief that filled me when I heard their teachings; the gods were a lie, they did not exist.'

The priest glanced to him, a sad smile pulling at his mouth.  
'You see, it was easier to believe that there simply were no gods, than to believe the deity I had loved and worshiped so ardently my entire life could abandon me when I was most in need.'

Sassar shook himself and the melancholy was gone, replaced by a sudden an aura of strength.  
'I still do not know why Helm did not console me; perhaps it was a test of my faith, or perhaps I was just too mired in grief to notice it. I only know now that I was wrong. That whether He chooses to show me or not, Helm does exist and He may ignore me for the rest of my days, my worship of Him will continue.'

And Anomen could hear the truth of it in his voice, the man's words spoken with a quiet conviction that held more power than a thousand zealous promises. The squire's eyes surveyed the room, taking in the intricate etching on Keldorn's armour; the gold of Aerie's hair; Nalia's smile. And Jaheira, sat opposite them and looking green and exotic in the light of her staff, Fritha dozing next to her, head resting upon the woman's shoulder, her lips parted slightly as she slept.

Everything that was now denied to the man… perhaps that was penance enough. Anomen swallowed dryly.

'I- I usually offer up my prayers before retiring, though since we have been here, I have yet to perform them… perhaps- perhaps we could give worship together.'

xxx

It did not feel as though she had done any more than close her eyes, when someone was shaking her and Fritha started to find movement all around her, her friends stood in the shadows, talking quietly and checking equipment, an air of urgency about them.

'Jaheira?'

'Come on, up!' the woman ordered, administering an encouraging poke to the ribs with her toe, 'before I kick some life into you. Sassar's men have given the signal; it's time.'

Fritha scrubbed a hand across her face, feeling all the more tired for the few hours sleep as she rose stiffly to join them, Sassar appearing in the doorway opposite.  
'Please follow me.'

He led them back along the way they had first come, passing the door to the sewers and moving onwards, past other rooms and passages until at last he halted, a circular stone door in the wall next to him. The faint gap where it opened and the intricate carving at its centre were the only things to distinguish it from the surrounding walls and Fritha watched as Sassar took the key from his robes, fitting the disc over the indentations after a moment's fumbling and silently the door swung open, a staircase spiralling down into the darkness.

'This leads down to the tunnels. We believe the beholder's nest is the fifth chamber off the eastern passage. Helm watch over you.'

xxx

Fritha held her breath, the stale reek of rotting flesh making her long for the sewers as she led the way along the tunnel, Minsc just behind her with lantern muted; the group agreed that even with the beholder elsewhere, stealth was likely a good idea.

The floor creaked underfoot like old leather, uneven and slick, and Fritha had to fight to keep her hand at the wall, glad for the darkness as her fingers brushed the smooth veined surface, counting the openings as they passed them, her skin nearly crawling off her back when her hand was unlucky enough to stray across something that moved.

'There, the fifth break. This is the one,' she muttered to those behind her, snatching her hand back from the wall with relief and turning into the chamber.

The smell was much worse in there and it seemed the others agreed with her, murmurs of disgust and the sound of someone retching following her in. Fritha walked slowly onward, her foot catching on something in the darkness; it was time to find what they'd come for.  
'Let's have some light, eh Minsc?'

The ranger retuned the lantern at her word, the others following suit and collective gasp seemed to leave the group as the shadows fell back. Carrion littered the floor, some bodies barely a few days old, others reduced to mere skeletons, but all covered in the same familiar teeth marks. Gauths.

Fritha looked down, stifling a shriek as she jumped back from the dismembered arm she had almost tripped over.

'I think we have just found what happens to those deemed _unworthy_,' said Jaheira, her contempt audible.

'Everyone spread out,' ordered Fritha, trying to regain her composure, 'find the artefact.'

The group dispersed about the chamber, Fritha stepping forward with Minsc, the lantern low between them, its light falling upon gore and bone, here and there catching upon some jewel or metal, until,

'I- I think- yes, I've found it!' came Nalia and Fritha straightened, turning with the others to watch her stoop, knocking aside a bone with her foot to retrieve a slender blue rod that was the image of the one she herself held.

The girl turned, holding it out to her and wordlessly Fritha took it, letting her eyes travel her friends' expectant faces before closing the two halves to make a whole. A soft click followed by silence, everyone holding their breath when somewhere far above them a distant roar of outrage howled through the tunnels.

Fritha swallowed, the rod suddenly slick in her hand.  
'Oh, I hope that's not Ao.'

A sudden flash, and the creature was before them, a huge sphere of leathery flesh dominated by a single red eye, its halo of eyestalks writhing as it growled.  
'Despair sighted, for death is thy familiar!'

'Oh, I think not,' countered Fritha with more grimace than grin, drawing back her hand, the rod within it thrumming with her will.

Blinding white energy discharged across the room to strike the beholder square in the eye, the creature roaring as it was blinded, the force of the blast knocking it back into the chamber wall.

'Thy end is nigh, mortals!' it choked, and to Fritha's alarm the creature began to chant, intoning the words of a spell, and she realised with fleeting humour that the avatar had been _more_ than correct when he had surmised rod was no longer the threat it has once been.

The group was transfixed, the unexpected horror of their situation freezing them, when suddenly Aerie was at her side, eyes wide with fear and hands aloft, her fingers bent in on themselves with arthritic rigor as magic grew and crackled between them. A blink and the spell release, the force of it flooring everyone as it struck the beholder, the creature giving an anguished howl and then all was silent.

For a moment, all anyone seemed able to do was stare wordlessly from its body to each other, before one by one they rose slowly from the carrion strewn floor, all eyes turning to the elf.

'Oh,' gasped Nalia as she struggled to untangle herself from her robes, 'are anyone else's ears ringing?'

'Aerie,' breathed Jaheira, looking speechless for the first time Fritha could remember. The elf coloured and dipped her face, her mumble barely audible.

'S-Sorry…'

'Sorry?' Fritha cried, unable to contain herself a moment longer and laughing joyously as she threw an arm about the girl, 'Aerie that was magnificent! Though slightly scary.'

Agreement followed from every quarter and Aerie's colour intensified, though now her smile could have rivalled their leader's.  
Fritha sighed happily, releasing the girl to twirl the rod light-heartedly between her fingers, filled with the twin joys of survival and success.

'Excellent work, everyone. Now let's go and spread the good news.'

xxx

Sassar was waiting for them at the top of the stairs, just where they'd left him, and Fritha could see him wringing his hands in the gloom as he shouted down to them.

'Have- have you done it? A-Are any of you hurt?'

Fritha drew a breath as she stepped at last into the tunnel, tired but more than happy as she answered him, her friends slowly gathering about them.

'The beholder is dead and we're all fine, -though we'd have been done for if it hadn't been for Aerie here,' she added with a laugh, and the elf flushed with pleasure.

'What has been happening here?' Came Jaheira behind her, Sassar turning to the sound.

'Well, we heard the roar as the beholder fell; it was so loud, I wonder if there are any that didn't! Our spies at the temple said they instantly knew something was wrong, for all suddenly lost the senses the beholder had gifted them. Apparently, a great panic arose in the temple and many of the cultists took flight, though Gaal was still trying to rally the faithful as our allies left to join us.'

Fritha nodded, the knowledge that most had fled pleasing her; she did not relish the idea of fighting the blind.  
'Right. Well, back to the temple then?' Fritha sighed with a tired grin, turning to head for the stairs, but a hand at her arm halted her and she glanced back to see Sassar, his face earnest and uncertain as he began.

'Wait, Fritha, I have one last request if you will hear it; you have helped us here so much and we shall never be able to repay it, but I should like to begin. I have spoken to my brethren here and _we _wish to return the rod to the temple.'

Fritha felt a panicked guilt bubbling up inside her, the idea that her own earlier request had provoked such a dangerous offer.  
'But, Sassar, I mean, I appreciate the thought, but the way's not clear, there are still traps and-'

The man shook his head, pressing her hand between both of his as though to will his own conviction into her.

'I understand your concern, child, but I believe we will be able. Ever since the idea came to me, I have felt a change within me -others have spoken of it too. Although I cannot see as once I did, a sense of my surroundings not unlike that the beholder once gifted me is returning. I cannot say whether it is the symptom of something more to come, or even if it will last, but I know in my heart it is to allow us to perform this service for you.'

He smiled gently, a warm confidence to his manner and Fritha wondered if this was the sign he had been waiting so patiently for.  
'Please honour us in this; we will not fail you.'

She glanced about at faces of her friends, worried and doubtful in the gloom before turning back to press the long slender rod into his hands.  
'Safe journey, Sassar.'

'And you, child. And you.'

xxx

The group left just as they had arrived, Fritha and Jaheira leading the way, retracing their steps back through the sewers looking for a grate large enough to leave by. No one had bothered with scarves this time though, everyone more than used to the smell, their magelights mixing with the pale light that filtered through the grates and illuminating the tunnels with a grey ethereal radiance.

Fritha noticed Jaheira glance to her, the werelight that glowed above her staff giving the druid a green tinge and Fritha was put in mind of the prints of dryads she had seen back in Candlekeep, though the woman looked pensive and she kept the thought to herself.

'So,' the woman began with uncharacteristic hesitation, 'do you think the outcasts will make it to the temple?'

Fritha shrugged; she knew her answer. It was just the reasoning behind that she was unsure of.

'I really don't know. But I had to let them… I looked at Sassar and I suddenly recalled all the times where it was the other way round and… and I just knew I had to let them go,' she finished weakly, sighing slightly to add 'I imagine it's the same feeling that others have when I ask them to put their faith in me.'

Jaheira smiled.  
'Yes, when you get that earnest look, even I can not refuse you –and Khalid!' she added with a laugh that stopped suddenly, though she managed to finish, her voice almost a whisper. 'He could never say no to you…'

Fritha sighed and turned her attention back to their path, the sound of footsteps ahead catching her ear. She stopped, glancing to Jaheira and the woman frowned.  
'Hold, who approaches?'

But the footsteps merely grew louder, Jaheira lowering her staff and at last the green glow fell upon the scarred twisted face of Gaal, checking his path with his own staff as he walked, half-dozen or so men stumbling along behind him.

'Ah, I recognise that voice,' the priest sneered as he halted before them, 'it is the _heathens_ I sent to retrieve the rod. What have you done! Our Lord is silent and the temple lies in ruins!'

'Your _lord_?' Jaheira snorted contemptuously, 'you lied to these people, Gaal; it was no deity, it was a beholder!'

Gaal looked furious, though his voice remained fierce and dismissive.  
'Listen not to her slander, brethren; she seeks to deceive you, just as the surface clerics did. The One God-'

'Is dead,' cut in Fritha, impatiently. 'I know this because we've just killed him and since we _mere_ mortals could, I'm guessing he was not of the divine.'

Gaal just stared at them, mouth open and trembling with rage.  
'You have sinned against the Universe itself!' he breathed finally and Fritha frowned, in no mood for any of his nonsense as she stepped forward.

'Gaal, stand down! I don't want to-'

The staff came out of the darkness with surprising speed and if Fritha had not dodged as she did, it would have probably left her dead. As it was, it still caught her sharply across the temple, pain exploding behind her eyes, and the world was suddenly reduced to a chaos of shouts and flashes as she lay sprawled on the tunnel floor, struggling to find her feet.

But, unsurprisingly, the fight did not last long, those wise enough to flee being allowed to do so and it was mere moments later Fritha was squinting in the glare of one of the magelights, strong hands helping her to her feet.

'Oh, I really could have done without that,' she groaned, Jaheira stepping in to give the wound a cursory examination, all the time furiously whispering admonishments at her ear. Fritha let noise wash over her, unfocused eyes travelling across the rest of them, all uninjured but a lot filthier than they had been just moments before.

Jaheira was dapping something at her temple now, the pain flaring with every touch and Fritha focused on the body just at her feet; Gaal's sightless face slack, an arrow buried in his neck.  
'Good shot, Nalia.'

The girl nodded grimly and slowly they gathered themselves, Minsc finally finding a sewer grate and the group emerged, blinking in the thin dawn light.


	12. Noblesse oblige

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Noblesse oblige**

Nalia drew in great lungfuls of clean air, more than glad to be out of the sewers as she glanced about her, the light mist that still lingered over the sleeping houses not quite hiding the neatly shuttered windows and solid front doors of the rich merchants and lesser nobles that lived within.

She was more familiar with the poorer districts of the city and it took her a moment to place them in the south-eastern quarter of Athkatla, the temple spires still just visible over the nearby rooftops. It was an area she had been in only a few times before, though not at that hour of the morning, practising her arts on the couples returning from parties and theatres about the city; the night's earnings always gratefully received by the slum's temple of Illmater.

'Well, friends,' began Keldorn, and she pulled her attention back to the group about her, all tired and filthy, the paladin stood slightly apart from the others. 'It seems our paths together are at an end, though I look forward to the time that they might cross again. I will inform the Order of our work here, though I will leave you the honour of reporting back to the temple.' He bowed slightly, 'Torm be with thee.'

Fritha smiled tiredly, still looking remarkably respectable for someone half-covered in sewage, the girl stepping forward to firmly shake his hand.  
'Farewell Keldorn. Gods keep you.'

The old man smiled.  
'Aye, they always have for some reason. Fare thee well.'

He nodded respectfully to the group before turning to march off, Nalia listening as the faint clatter of his plate mail faded in the empty street.

It had been nice speaking to Keldorn, to hear about a side of her father she had never had the chance to meet; all young and brash and more than a little green, with such a passion for life and justice. Nalia smiled faintly and wondered if she would not have known more of that man if her mother had been with them, someone who had known her father from his past keeping that spark of youth within him.

But it was very much a waste of time wondering about such now, for not only was her mother not alive, but now her father wasn't either, and her memories of the caring but distant man would have to sustain her.

But it had been kind of Keldorn all the same, and a kindness that had clearly not gone unnoticed, she considered, as her gaze fell on the two girls next to her. Fritha was still smiling, a warmth to her dark eyes as she watched Keldorn disappear into the mists.  
'He must have the luckiest wife in all the Realms.'

Aerie merely sighed wistfully and nodded her agreement and Nalia allowed herself a smile at Anomen's unseen frown.

'Right,' continued Fritha, all duty once more, 'back to the-?'

'Nalia?' came a voice behind her and Nalia turned with the others to take in two young noblewomen, both cloaked against the morning's chill; the dress of their hair and the slightly unfocused look to their eyes suggesting they were returning late rather than setting out early, their guard stood silent and watchful a pace behind them.

'Nalia, that's never you!' said the blonde one again, moving forward slightly to emerge from the mists with her brown-haired companion and Nalia felt her breath catch as she recognised the pair; the two di Marcial sisters, former pupils of St Hilaria's, the Tyran convent school she herself had attended until the age of seventeen.

'Corallie? Hester?'

Corallie's rather equine features pulled into a bright smile, blonde ringlets bobbing as she stepped forward to greet her.  
'Nalia! What are you doing here? You-'

She stopped suddenly, stepping back and bringing a hand up to her delicately crinkled nose, though she said nothing. Nalia felt a blush surge and steeled herself.

'What am _I _doing here, what are _you_ doing here? I thought you both still lived at your family's estate just south of Crimmor.'

'We're in town for the Steel's wedding this coming tenth-day,' supplied Hester, the pretty face never breaking from its austere mask, 'we've just left Florence du Vortigan's coming out party. You know Celia du Vortigan, Ewart Bergin's fiancée? Well now she's taken, her younger sister Florence can be presented.'

'Presented?' came Aerie, looking painfully confused.

'Yes, dear, to society,' Corallie laughed, though not unkindly, 'don't you elves have that? Oh Nalia, what company you are keeping now! No wonder your aunt-'

'Corallie!' snapped Hester suddenly, and the girl looked instantly horrified, bringing a hand up to her rather overshot mouth as though she could not believe what she had said. Nalia felt a cold weight settle in her navel.

'No wonder Auntie what?' she asked slowly, eyes moving from one to the other. Hester glanced to her sister with a frown, thin lips pressed together as she turned back to her.

'Nalia, dear, you simply cannot blame your aunt. You do not know the scandal your leaving has caused, I mean, there really was no alternative for her…'

'_Yes_?' prompted Nalia, her impatience growing. Hester drew a deep breath, clearly steeling herself.

'Well, even though your were never one for society, a lot of people were asking after you when they heard about Lord de'Arnise and- and she let it be known that the shock of losing your father sent you delirious with grief. That is why you left home.'

'She has been telling people I'm _mad_?' Nalia cried, the truth of it so much worse than she could have ever imagined.

'Yes, though I never really believed it,' continued Corallie, blithely innocent to her outrage, 'I mean you always were a bit rebellious, even at school. Such a card, with all your slumming and charity work, we never knew what you would do next!'

Hester nodded to add airily.  
'Yes, and besides, I heard from our cook, Margaret, who is mother to your maid, Charlotte, that you spoke to her the day you left and she said you didn't seem particularly addled to her.'

Nalia felt her shoulders slump, all her anger suddenly gone. Well, at least the servants still spoke well of her.

'Oh, can we get on now?' whined Corallie to her sister, pulling her cloak about her more tightly, 'I shall catch a chill if I stand here any longer.'

'Yes, yes,' the older girl dismissed, turning back to Nalia politely. 'We're staying with the Hewith's while in town, on Cloth Street. Do drop in if you're passing.'

Nalia bobbed a curtsey as the girls did the same, the guard nodding respectfully to her as the three continued past them, the girls' less than sober whispers hissing all too audibly in their wake.

'_I knew she liked slumming, but really, that's taking it too far.'  
_  
'_I _know_, in fact, I heard that she even refused her betrothal to Isea Roenall!'  
_  
'_No! Perhaps she _is_ mad; he's such a catch!_'

Nalia turned to the group still stood behind her, silence hanging oppressive in the air between them as though none knew quite how to break it when,

'Stupid little girls,' said Anomen with real venom, and though she and the squire did not usually see eye-to-eye, she appreciated his characteristic bluntness at that moment.

Jaheira nodded.  
'If _those_ are the good opinions your aunt is worried of losing, perhaps you are better off being thought of as addled.'

'Yes, try not to worry,' agreed Fritha, giving her a reassuring smile, 'lots of people think I'm mad.'

'Indeed,' commented Jaheira dryly, 'but then they would be correct.'

Fritha pulled a face as Aerie and Minsc laughed. Nalia smiled, trying to be cheered by their friendship as the group started back to the slums, but the sorrow the meeting had awoken in her would not be lifted.

The reality of what she had given up when she quit the keep was beginning to sink in and if she was honest with herself, she missed the place as much as she missed her father. Such small things; watching the light play on the water in the solar, enjoying the evening breeze on the battlements, the bustle of the kitchens, the still of the library. But things that had meant more to her than she first realised, it seemed, and the girl felt a weight settle in her heart as she thought of the place just going on without her, Delcia's claims merely making the severance all the more difficult to bear.

Nalia knew her aunt was probably still angry with her over their argument, and the family honour had never been far from the woman's concerns, but to be telling people she was mad! If it was meant as a punishment, it was a cruel one. Nalia knew she had always had a bit of a reputation as eccentric by the standards of other Athkatlan ladies, and though she had always maintained she did not care, it could be difficult at times; at some gathering or another, the feel of their eyes, the whispers and the quiet laughter. But she had girded herself with the strength of her convictions and born it all without complaint…

Nalia felt a righteous anger building in her heart.  
Her aunt may only be working to protect their family's reputation but what of Nalia's own honour? Labelling her as mad now made it seem as though all her previous deeds had stemmed from that, rather than her belief in the simple ideal of charity for those in need of it!

Nalia shook herself, resigned to feeling out of sorts for a while yet and determined not to let it affect the others as the group finally arrived at the inn, Fritha nodding politely to the guard at the door.

'Mornin- whoa there!' he rumbled gruffly, putting a hand up to halt them, the other moving the cover his nose, 'I'm sorry, miss, but I can't let you in like that, Lehtinan'll have my head. You'll have to take your boots off, at least.'

'_What_?' snapped Anomen from somewhere behind her, but Fritha just shrugged.

'Do as he says, it's a reasonable enough request,' the girl sighed, stepping on the heel of one boot and removing a stockinged foot, the guard offering her his arm for balance as she struggled with the other, those around her following suit.

Nalia glanced down, finding her boots ruined just as she had suspected, the pale soft leather now stained a murky brown, clumps of filth and gore still clinging to the soles, and a unexpected sadness welled within her. Before such things would have been beneath her consideration, especially, as she reminded herself later, when many weren't not fortunate enough to _have_ boots, but at that moment it just seemed to be another sign of her old life slipping away from her.

Aerie was tiredly knocking the worst off her own on a nearby wall and Nalia moved to join her, kicking her boots listlessly against the crumbling bricks before stooping down to slip them off and hurrying to follow the others inside before any more old friends had a chance to turn up and catch her wandering the slums barefoot, lending yet more weight to the rumours.

Thankfully, the tavern itself was still quiet at that time of the morning, the few people awake that early having more important concerns than they, and the only table with any life to it was a group of mercenaries who looked as though they'd been there all night, the men looking up as they passed.

'Bane's Arse, what have you lot been crawling through?' one shouted, clamping a large hand over his fleshy nose.

'Care to see for yourself, mate?' Fritha called back with a grin, making to toss him a filth-steeped boot and Nalia felt herself smile in spite of her mood as the man returned hurriedly to his ale, laughter erupting about him.

'Go on upstairs,' Fritha continued, starting towards the bar, 'I'll meet you up there.'

Sure enough, Nalia had just unlocked her door when the girl appeared on the stairs, a stack of square wooden tiles grasped in her free hand.

'Right, I've got everyone a token for the bathhouse- there you are,' she smiled, handing them to Jaheira to distribute. 'And if everyone can bring me their clothes before they go, the barmaid says there's a washer woman across the street.'

Sighs of assent all round and Fritha caught her eye to send her a smile before unlocking her own door and disappearing through it.

xxx

Anomen sat at their customary table beneath the window with the others, the common room about them packed with people for the midday meal, every table occupied and serving as a stark contrast for the peace the group had arrived to that morning. The squire finished his ale and set the cup down with a sigh, a weight settling in his stomach as he went over his plans for what felt like the hundredth time. He would draw Fritha away that evening, explain to her his reservations about the group and the incompatibility of their goals, take his leave and return to the Order.

He swallowed, stomach lurching slightly as he imagined the girl stood before him looking dejected; what if she asked him to stay? But he quelled that fear as soon as it arose. The girl had barely shared two words with him since their argument, she would probably be hard pressed to contain her glee.

Anomen sighed again and rolled his shoulders as Aerie refilled his cup with a smile. It had been a relief to get out of his armour, the heat of the bathhouse a welcome respite for his tired muscles, and he and the ranger had sat in companionable silence as they washed, the steam billowing about them. It had been quiet down there at that time of the morning, the only interruption to the peace being when one of the few prostitutes had asked Minsc if he wanted a massage and it had taken quite a lot for Anomen convince the man that he most likely did _not_.

Anomen smiled in spite of himself, the memory of it a lot more amusing than the actual incident. He and the ranger had parted soon after, each returning to their rooms, but the time they had been allowed for rest had merely given him a chance to brood over his plans to leave, and he had been glad when noon had arrived and he could move down to the common room to distract himself with a meal.  
And one by one, the others had joined him; firstly the girl's, their hair still damp at the ends, then Jaheira had appeared looking better for her wash, though no more approachable for it, explaining she had just finished tightening Minsc bandages, something the man himself had confirmed when he'd arrived moments later.

Anomen's eyes travelled over the others sat about the table with him and he was suddenly struck by the idea that this could be the last meal he shared with them all; well, everyone barring Fritha, that was, for the girl had yet to join them. The last time he had seen her, he'd been stood in her doorway, the girl taking the clothes he held without a word and adding them to the others, before bundling all of them into her cloak, gathering the corners to make a sack and Anomen had left her to it.

'Oh, we're all down here,' came a voice at his shoulder and he started, glancing up to see the girl herself looking well-scrubbed, a long rope of damp tangled hair hanging clear to her waist. 'I though at least a couple of you would still be sleeping- thanks Minsc,' she added as the ranger kindly rose and let her take his seat nearest the fire, the girl leaning across the hearth as she began to comb her hair out.

'You lot found the baths, then,' she continued, her voice coming muffled from where she was leant forward and Jaheira nodded.

'Yes, didn't you?'

'No. I looked in on them, but they were quite busy by the time I returned from the laundry, so I had one in my room after a sleep.'

'It was very quiet when we were down there,' continued Nalia conversationally, 'just us three in the ladies' baths.'

'Indeed,' said Anomen, 'the main room was empty also… well, barring some young women of ah, a professional nature.'

'Such nice little girls,' agreed the ranger, 'one offered Minsc a massage.'

Anomen could not see Fritha's face for hair but her snort of amusement was unmistakeable.

'But then Anomen explained perhaps she was not for Minsc and Boo,' he continued, nodding wisely and everyone smiled.

'I wonder why the main bathhouse is communal with a private room for women,' sighed Aerie absently.

'Probably for that very reason,' came Fritha with a bark of laughter, 'they says it's the oldest vocation in the world.' She glanced up from her brushing, 'is my parting straight?'

Aerie nodded.

'Well, it hardly seems fair to me,' continued Nalia with a frown, the druid rolling her eyes impatiently.

'Indeed, how will the _males_ do their soliciting if the women can all hide away in their private room?' she agreed, intentionally misinterpreting the girl's disapproval, 'perhaps you can mention the inequitable working arrangements of his prostitutes to Lehtinan.'

'That isn't what I meant!' snapped Nalia, but Fritha interrupted before things could escalate.

'Oh, peace, you two! I've had enough arguments recently to last me a lifetime,' the girl sighed and Anomen felt himself colour as the druid shot him a look.

A silence seemed to fall over the table and Anomen watched as Fritha leant back in her chair, moving to braid her hair into one long thick plait, the heavy sodden mass pulled over her shoulder as she worked. Her features seemed sharper with her hair slicked down, her elven heritage more apparent; though the most eye-catching thing about her at the moment was the clot of scarlet that still lingered at her temple. He wondered absently if it was giving her any pain, though it was clearly outside _her _consideration as she broke the silence with a sigh.

'My poor hair… three times I had to wash it to get the smell out,' she sighed, examining a frizzy curl ruefully, 'I don't care how much they offer next time, no more sewers.'

'How was the laundress?' asked Jaheira and Fritha glanced up with a smile.

'None too pleased,' she confessed with a slight laugh, 'I had to pay double in the end and it was still only grudgingly accepted, though she seemed more annoyed by the blood than the dirt. It stains something rotten. You should have seen her face when I gave her my  
blue tunic.'

Anomen frowned slightly, recalling their battle against the trolls at Nalia's keep and the state it had left Fritha in as the girl herself continued, her voice gruffer as she imitated the woman.

"Illmater's mercy, girl, this all yours? I'm surprised you're still standing!" Bless her, she seemed quite concerned, though she couldn't see much point in washing it considering the tears on one side, until I convinced her I could mend it.'

'And can you?' asked Aerie, sounding doubtful, and Fritha grinned.

'Course, though it will look a little untidy to put on a patch of that size… I think I'll close the tears like pleats and embroider over them. Vines perhaps, or waves of the Kara-Turan style might look nice.'

'You _embroider_?' Anomen interrupted before he could stop himself, unable to keep the incredulity from his voice.

'Yes,' she answered archly and he wondered if she would have looked any less affronted if he'd asked whether she knew which end of a sword was which, but the girl had already turned back to her conversation as mildly as before.

'Though if I put in that much effort, I won't be wearing it into battle again, that's for certain. What do you think?'

'I think the waves would look nicest, with it being blue,' said Nalia after a moment's deliberation on what was clearly an issue of _great_ importance. 'You could use a dark indigo silk and fan the waves between the pleats; they would be narrow enough.'

'Kara-Turan knots?' asked Fritha. Nalia frowned slightly.

'Well, you could, though I would be tempted to use a long bullion knot.'

'Oh, I'm useless at those,' she confessed, adding with a laugh, 'they reach 'tangled knot' before they ever get near the bullion stage.'

Nalia smiled warmly.

'Well, I'd be happy to help you; they are one of my favourites.'

'As soon as I've it back, I shall take you up on that,' Fritha said with a nod of thanks, finally tying a cord at the end of her braid and rising as she did so.

'Right, I'm going to the temple to give them our findings and collect payment. I will take one other. Anomen, are you coming?'

He glanced up with genuine surprise; they had not spoken since their last argument. Anomen had expected he would be last person she would have invited, affiliated to the temple or not, and by the look of the others, they were thinking the same.

'Well?' she prompted, and he nodded once, wordlessly shouldering his pack to follow her out.

xxx

Anomen walked next to her through the busy streets, a hot midday sun shining overhead, the silence between them holding none of the hostility he would have expected for two people who at been shouting at each other mere hours before.

But then it was not the easy silence of friends either, and Anomen was glad when he at last saw the first of the shimmering canals that signalled the beginning of the temple district, the girl leading them easily through the crowds just leaving the noon services and together they entered the tranquil cool of the temple of Helm.

High Watcher Oisig was at their side before Anomen's eyes even had a chance to adjust to the gloom, the older man greeting them with a calm cordiality that belied the eager air of his arrival.

'Brother Anomen, and the young lady Fritha. You have returned. What news have you?'

Fritha glanced up to him with an eyebrow raised, and Anomen blinked, momentarily caught by surprised. She was leaving _him_ to tell the priest?  
'It was a beholder cult, High Watcher,' he began, eyes lingering on the girl before he turned back to the man. 'A beholder came here for an artefact of great destructive power, though I am happy to say we destroyed it and the beholder both.'

And so Anomen told him of their investigation, a pride welling in him as he described the trials they had faced, the people they had met and the success they had found, Fritha silent and serene at his side all the while.

'I see,' Oisig finally rumbled, nodding gravely, 'you have done a great service for both our temple and the citizens of Athkatla as a whole.'

Fritha remained impassive in the face of this praise, speaking for the first time since their arrival.  
'We were told the temple was destroyed when the beholder fell, but maybe some men from your church could be sent down there to check, perhaps remove any altar pieces or the like; it would not do for it to become a focus for the cultists still left.'

Oisig dipped his head slightly in serene agreement.

'Indeed, child, your words hold wisdom.'

'And since your men will be down there,' Fritha continued innocently and Anomen had the distinct impression that Oisig had just been led into something of a trap, 'I should like it if they found the group of outcasts and helped them return to the surface.'

The priest's air of calm was gone in an instant.

'But you said it yourself, they are outcasts, heretics. They sinned against the gods themselves!'

'For which they have repented,' Fritha reminded stubbornly. 'The credit for this victory is theirs as well; we could not have succeed without their guidance. And without them guarding the way all this time, who knows what would have happened?'

Oisig eyed them both sternly, Anomen squaring up to his gaze without a thought as to where his allegiance should lie, and at last the priest sighed.

'We… will do as you request. Well,' he continued quickly, drawing a purse from his robes as though to forestall any other demands she may have, 'please accept this as payment for your efforts. You have more than earned it.'

Fritha nodded her thanks.

'And,' he began, as she half turned to go, 'we have something else for you as well. Information on your lost companion.'

Fritha whirled back so quickly Anomen was surprised she did not injure her neck.  
'What do you know of Imoen?'

'Nothing specific, but sometimes more general knowledge may serve just as well. The Cowled Wizards are well known for killing those that openly defy the laws here. Those few they do not, are sent to an asylum for magically unstable. I cannot tell you its official name; the mages about here just call it Spellhold. As for where it is, even the ever-watchful eye of Helm cannot see.' He shook his head. 'I am sorry I could not help you more, child.'

Fritha was silent a moment, her face blank as she took this all in, before she dipped her head, gathering her hands across her chest to bow, a slight hoarseness to her voice the only thing to betray her emotion.  
'My thanks, sir.'

Oisig bowed as well, before moving back into the temple proper and the girl turned to leave, Anomen catching her arm.  
'I am going to give thanks in the chapel.'

She nodded without looking up at him, her eyes fixed resolutely ahead of her.  
'I'll wait for you outside.'

He nodded as well, but she was already gone, disappearing through the doors to be lost in the glare.

xxx

Anomen dropped to his knees before the altar, drawing a deep calming breath and waiting for the stillness of the place to enter him. The chapel was empty after the noon service and he felt a customary peace wash over him as he bowed his head in prayer. There had always been something about the ambience of temple that calmed him, dissolving the anger and self-doubt that seemed to dominate his waking hours. Perhaps it was the acceptance he felt there, a place where he was already deemed worthy; somewhere he was known as 'brother', and not 'squire', that title synonymous with _inadequacy_.

But whatever the reason, it was in the quiet of the chapel where the clamour of voices within is mind stilled to just one and the world seemed to fall into focus.

Anomen glanced up, his eyes travelling over the intricate embroidery on the rich blue altar-cloth before him. Two of the altarboys had arrived to trim the candles and fill the heavy bronze censer in preparation for the next service, the pair whispering quietly as they saw him, their eyes shining with awe and Anomen felt a warm pride rising in his heart. News of their quest had clearly travelled the temple by now, and it was rewarding to be there, enjoying the glory of their success first hand. Though, he considered, it was likely something he should not indulge in over long, and he rose stiffly, walking back into the temple proper, his mind working as he went.

It had been kind of Fritha to allow him to tell his priest of their triumph, especially when it was clear she was still cross with him about their fight, and perhaps with good reason. Though he would not have admitted it to anyone, it had been an anger at himself that had sparked his temper before. The girl had saved a city and averted a war and there she had been, blithely assuring him the Order had no place for her. Well, if they had no place for her, they certainly would not have one for him and his anger at the world had surfaced before he'd a chance to quell it.

But whatever the reason for his outburst, it had not been Fritha's fault and the fairness of her dealings with him since merely shamed him further. And that, above all things, was giving him pause when he considered what he had been planning since the night at the keep. Anomen sighed. He had been so sure before that his departure would be for the best, but now…

Granted, other groups would undoubtedly be more organised, more suited to his skills, but he would still be the same man; still prone to outbursts of temper, and it was a rare group that did not take offence, a rare leader who would honour him regardless.  
He had reached the doors by now and stood watching her, the girl sat upon the wall opposite, her braid over one shoulder and half unwound while she combed her fingers absently through the amber waves in an effort to help it dry.

Keldorn was right, she _did_ have a good soul, and though he may have eventually found another group who would have taken him, he doubted there was a group in the whole of Amn who would need his help as much as this one.  
Anomen sighed, the voice of Moira clear in his head.  
'_Never let the sun set on a quarrel, brother.'_

xxx

Fritha felt herself walk outside, almost blind as her eyes adjusted to the sun's glare, her body seeming to move of its own accord as she crossed the path to sit on the wall opposite, hands reaching up to unwind her braid, the canal sparkling beneath her.

So at last some news of Imoen; surely she should be ecstatic? The girl was in an asylum, yes, but that was a lot better than another dungeon.  
An asylum, where they sent mad people for treatment-  
_Or study…_ whispered a voice somewhere in the back of her mind and Fritha felt her stomach clench.

'For _treatment_,' she repeated firmly and further argument was cut off as the door banged closed, Fritha glancing up to see the squire marching purposefully towards her, the title she had practically begged him not to use his first utterance.

'My lady?'

'Anomen,' she acknowledged, standing at his approach, fingers moving absently to plait her hair again as she forced her worries from her mind.

'My lady…' he repeated, sounding rather tense, 'I should like to speak with you about our alliance.'

Fritha nodded once. She had been expecting this for some time now; the little speech whereby their six would become a five. She finished tying the cord at the end of her plait, slipping a hand into her pocket to close about the purse containing the temple's payment, just waiting to count out his share as he continued.

'I understood when I joined with you, that this group would be unlike anything I had experienced before, but even then I was surprised by the informality of your ways. But, although I do not always agree with how it is done, I- I realise the importance of what we do here and I should still like to be a part of it.'

Fritha blinked; his request surprised her, though whether she was glad or displeased by his decision to stay, she was not sure. But either way, she did not let it show, merely nodding impassively, her fingers relaxing about the purse.  
'There will always be a place here for you, should you desire one.'

Anomen looked rather touched a moment, straightening to continue in the manner of one about to get some unpleasant but necessary ordeal over with.  
'And- and I feel as though I owe you an apology as well, I should not have shouted at you as I did, however angry I was.'

Fritha smiled slightly.  
'It's fine, Anomen.'

He smiled as well, clearly relieved and Fritha wondered just what he had expected her to say.  
'No, it is not, but I am grateful for your forgiveness regardless; my temper getting the better of me is an all too frequent occurrence.'

The squire sighed deeply, staring out over the canals.  
'There is an anger in my heart I cannot seem to control, though as a member of the Order, it is of utmost importance that I try.'

He sounded so lost, so unsure and it seemed almost ridiculous she had been teasing him about looking old but a day ago, when he was clearly so young.

'I see injustices everywhere, my lady, and I wish to do nothing but strike out against them. But even as I do, the hate and anger only grows,' he shook his head, looking suddenly crestfallen. 'I- I am unworthy of my vows.'

'Anomen,' she sighed, giving him a tired half-smile, 'no one can vow not to get angry, only not to act upon it. And as for your temper only worsening when you strike out at the world, well I'm not surprised. Anger will only beget more anger. Just try to think before you act.'

'I suppose you are correct, my lady, I must continue to struggle against evil, and I must continued to struggle against this anger within me.'

Fritha frowned slightly; when had she once mentioned the word _struggle_? But Anomen seemed not to notice.

'Perhaps a time will come when such a thing will come naturally to me. I do not know.'  
He sighed deeply, his eyes distant, before he glanced to her and the look was gone.

'But, I have troubled you enough with this and I am sure you've more pressing concerns now we've a location on which to focus our search for your friend. You _are_ glad of this news, are you not?' he pressed, frowning slightly, his tone concerned, 'you seemed distressed when Oisig spoke before…'

Fritha smiled brightly and forced away her unease, unwilling to show any weakness; she didn't want to have Anomen regretting his decision to stay with them _quite _so soon after making it.

'Did I?' she replied with genial astonishment, 'I must admit to being surprised when he first told me, but it is good news, isn't it. Imoen is more than likely in this asylum, and though we do not know where that is, knowing its name is surely to the first step towards finding it.'

'So you are not troubled then?' he pressed, his eyes watching carefully. She shook her head mildly and Anomen smiled.

'Good. Well, I should go and inform the Order of our work here. Farewell, my lady.'

'Yes, farewell, Fritha,' she sighed to herself, watching him cross the canals before turning to make her way back to the slums, worries for her friend returning to fill her thoughts.


	13. Things unsaid

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
Nor do I own "The Prince" by Niccolo Machiavelli.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Things unsaid **

Fritha moved through the thronging streets, barely noticing her usual torments of the heat and the crowds as fears for her friend chattered endlessly behind her eyes.  
Was Imoen safe? Were the Cowled Wizards taking care of her, or experimenting on her as Irenicus had? No, no, they couldn't be. Irenicus was a ruthless psychopath; no sane person could be so cruel. But what of the other inmates? What if they were dangerous? What if they tried to hurt her? She could be in trouble at that very moment!

Fritha started to find herself stood in the middle of the busy street with a trembling hand gripped tightly about her sword hilt, people muttering darkly as they tried to shove past her.

The girl shook herself; this was helping no one and she continued on her way, furiously willing her fears down with every step. Now was _not_ the time to start getting hysterical; she had to be strong if she wanted to see Imoen again. Besides, everything she had said to Anomen had been true, and she spent the rest of her journey repeating the same few arguments over and over in her mind, convincing herself of what good news she had just received.  
But it seemed nothing could quite quell her fear completely and it lingered on the edge of her senses, as though waiting for some hint of weakness.

'Well, it can wait!'she declared vehemently, finally reaching the Coronet, drawing a deep breath and fixing a smile in place as she pushed open the door, returning to a much quieter common room than the one she'd left. The patrons had thinned as the afternoon had worn on, and her own table much reduced as well, just Nalia and Aerie glancing up at her arrival.

'Hello you two, 'she began brightly, the sight of them cheering her in a way she would not have expected, 'you still about, Aerie? I'd have thought you'd have gone to visit the circus by now.'

The girl mumbled something into her cup, dropping her gaze and Fritha decided not the press the issue, Nalia returning her greeting.

'Hello dear,' she welcomed genially as Fritha took a seat, the girl setting one of the two spare cups before her and pouring her some tea, 'where's Anomen?'

'He returned to the Order.'

'You mean…' gasped Aerie, a hand at her mouth.

'He's gone to tell them of our findings,' Fritha answered after a slightly confused pause and Nalia gave the elf a rather smug smile.

'I told you. Aerie thought you were going to ask him to leave when you took him off like that.'

'Ask him to leave? Certainly not!' Fritha laughed, amused by the cold mettle they seemed to attribute to her; she couldn't think of anything more unbearable than having to tell someone they were no longer welcome in their company. 'I invited him to the temple so he could report on our success in the task they set us.'

'But he was so horrible to you,' said Aerie, and Fritha considered that perhaps the elf was judging her feelings by her own more sensitive standards. That Anomen's outburst had annoyed her, there was no question, but he had hardly hurt her feelings and Fritha just shrugged.

'Not letting him attend something that would have meant so much to him just because we'd had a squabble seemed a touch petty. Don't worry, Aerie, it applies to everyone. When it comes to reporting to a shrine of Baervar, I'll let you come with me however many of my sweethearts you've stolen.'

Nalia laughed and Aerie looked as though she was fighting not to join her, pursing her lips slightly and putting all her focus into refilling her cup.

'Anyway,' continued Fritha, gasping slightly as she sipped the hot tea, 'where are Minsc and Jaheira?'

'Well, _I_ was checking on Minsc,' came a voice above her and Fritha glanced up from her cup as Jaheira sank into the chair next to her. 'And _he_ is upstairs resting; his chest still troubles him. But what of you? Where is the squire? He has finally quit our company, I assume.'

Fritha shook her head as Jaheira pulled the last cup in front of her, Nalia filling it with tea.  
'No, and he seems quite resolved to stay with us actually. I imagine one of these two has been flirting with him,' she continued mildly with a nod to the girls, Aerie instantly flushing a wonderful shade of pink, her mouth ajar, while Nalia looked so scandalised she nearly upset the teapot.

'Fritha!' they chorused as the girl in question laughed, and even Jaheira managed a smile at their outrage.

'I'm just teasing,' she soothed, still grinning. 'As for the temple, High Watcher Oisig was nice enough, said we'd done a great service for Athkatla, and we got paid too, there are your shares.'

Fritha swallowed, setting two stacks of coin onto the table before her, very aware of what needed to come next.

'And… he also gave us the name of where they are probably holding Imoen. Spellhold, an asylum for the magically unstable.'  
Their reactions were just as she'd expected, though it did not make it any easier to bear, her fears stirring with the looks of horror on their faces, their anxiety merely encouraging her own.

'Which I think is very promising news,' she continued heartily, forcing the bright smile back onto her face, 'I mean, we can't find her if we don't know where she is. Now we have somewhere to focus our inquiries on, don't we?'

The girls stole a glance at each other, Jaheira frowning slightly, though no one uttered a word of dissent, a round of tentative nodding eventually travelling the table. And, of course, why shouldn't they agree? Her reasoning made good sense.  
But perhaps, Fritha considered, they could not bring themselves to do otherwise in the face of her apparent optimism, unwilling to ruin this illusion of sanctuary with some well-placed realism.

Silence hung awkward over the table until at last Nalia spoke, drawing a deep breath and forcing a smile of her own.

'Yes, that- that is very good news, Fritha. I- I am so pleased for you… Well, I think I may retire to my room. It is getting a little crowded down here,' she continued tersely, as a group of young noblemen entered the tavern, walking up to the bar with the air of ones who were more than aware of their own importance, and Fritha concluded they were either slumming or horribly lost. 'Would anyone care to join me?'

Aerie nodded and rose as Nalia did, Fritha halfway through shaking her head when she noticed the druid's measured gaze upon her.  
'N- actually, yes. Yes, I will.'

xxx

Fritha followed the two girls into Nalia's room, Aerie moving to sit on the bed, completely at ease and Fritha lingered at the door, unsure whether to join her or not. Though she had agreed to come with the pair to avoid Jaheira's interrogation, Fritha was not really in the mood for company and she was starting to feel a touch awkward now it was just the three of them. The two girls had become good friends over the last couple of days and Fritha realised suddenly how little she seemed to know either of them.

The girl had never really had any friends of her own age, bar Imoen, and it felt as though she was intruding on something she had no place in. Nalia's quick departure from the common room had shown that the unexpected meeting with her old school friends had affected her more than she had perhaps let on, and Fritha had the uncomfortable feeling that Nalia would have rather spoken with Aerie about it alone.  
Fritha swallowed, trying to quell this rising unease and smiling warmly.

'So' she began, for want of anything else to say, 'how did we enjoy our first taste of life as a mercenary?'

Nalia frowned, gesturing politely for Fritha to take the only chair as she joined Aerie on the bed, clearly thinking over her reply.  
'Well, it was not _quite_ as I expected.'

'Well, if all else fails I can see a very promising career for you as a diplomat,' Fritha laughed, amused by her tact, and she was relieved to see the girls join her. 'To be fair, I can pretty much guarantee that most work we undertake will not be anywhere near as dangerous and unpleasant as that was. Consider it a trial by fire, and one you most assuredly passed.'

Nalia smiled wanly. Fritha was always so encouraging; the girl reminded her of her father in that respect, with that enviable ability to always say the right thing. To know when to laugh and when to be grave and when to just change the subject and say nothing at all.

'So,' came Aerie from next to her, and Nalia started to find the elf watching her with a gentle look, 'those girls said they knew you from school.'

Nalia nodded. Time to think on the meeting and its revelation had allowed her doubts to surface and she was feeling a whole lot less sure of herself than she had been that morning. Nalia sighed, not sure whether she was ready to talk about it or not, but the silence of the room held an insistent air and before she knew it, her mouth seemed to be moving of its own accord.

'I had been tutored privately at the castle since I was quite young, firstly by my nursemaid and then by an old scholar friend of my father's. But without any siblings or children of my own age to interact with my father was growing worried for me. Auntie too had expressed a concern that I was spending too much time with some of the younger housemaids and when I was thirteen, my fate was decided. I was to be sent to St Hilaria's Academy for Young Ladies, a school run by elderly Tyran nuns just east of Crimmor. I think my aunt was hoping I would be sent to somewhere more prestigious- even to this day I suspects she holds the place responsible for my "wild tendencies". She had been hoping school would make a lady of me, and I think Father had _feared_ exactly the same thing. So, my father held firm with St Hilly's, a good but not especially expensive school. Most of the girls came from the families of lesser nobles or richer merchants, so they weren't too stuck-up, much to my aunt's disappointment.'

Nalia paused, her throat suddenly tight. She had not thought on any of this for years now, long buried memories of the place slowly surfacing and not all of them were pleasant.

'It was difficult sometimes… I was used to less structured teaching methods and the nuns were strict. For a long time I missed my home. But then one of the older nuns, Sister Euphemia, took me under her wing, encouraged my interest in alchemy, and I eventually made some friends of a sort, like Corallie and Hester, though they all thought I was mad.'

'Perhaps that is true friendship; the amity between those who do _not _understand each other,' came Fritha quietly, looking calm and composed, sat apart from them on the chair under the window with warm afternoon light haloing her.

Nalia smiled. An alchemist could spend a lifetime trying to bottle such serenity.

'Yes, I suppose so. They were supportive of me even if they didn't understand it. Like when I started sneaking out at night. For ages, they thought I was meeting a suitor for clandestine trysts! You should have heard them laugh when they found out I was just helping the poor in the nearby village.'

Nalia sighed and felt her smile fade.  
'But now… perhaps it was all a game to them, something I should have grown out of. It just felt so awful this morning, stood there before people who I had once liked so much, with them looking down on me like that.'

'Oh Nalia,' sighed Fritha, her expression pained, 'I know they may have seemed a little tactless, but they were less than sober and I'm sure they meant nothing by it.'

Nalia shook her head, glancing between the pair.  
'Perhaps so, but weren't you embarrassed to be stood there like that?'

Aerie shrugged, her voice small.  
'I always feel a little different from everyone else.'

Nalia patted her hand gently, turning to Fritha who shrugged as well, but looked a whole lot less concerned.

'Well, not particularly, but perhaps I'm no longer sensitive to such things. After all, I went to the inauguration of a Grand Duke with the highest noble houses the Gate had to offer covered in sewage. But then,' she continued slowly, eyes narrowed as she contemplated the point, 'I doubt I would have cared any more if the King of Cormyr had been there this morning instead of your giddy little friends, so I don't think I'm the sort of person who can advise you on this.'

But she obviously looked downhearted by this admission, for Fritha sighed gently and continued on.  
'Nalia, I think you have to separate things out a bit. Like the opinions of those you value, from those you don't. And what you wish to do from what is expected of you. You know, there is no shame in realising you have made a mistake,' Fritha paused to send her a measured look. 'If you wish to return to the life you once had-'

'No!' she cried, rather more forcefully than she would have liked and making Aerie jump, 'that isn't it at all. It's just…'

Nalia trailed off, unsure of how to explain the feeling. As much as she may be missing the castle, she did not miss the life there, with her aunt always watching her every move. But still, it was a strange feeling, to know she could do anything she liked now, without censure or disapproval; this new sense of freedom as frightening as it was wonderful and, at times, she felt almost overwhelmed by it.

Nalia sighed and shook her head, trying to find the words.  
'It's just I am not sure how to live anymore. Before my life had structure. I was surrounded by rules, how to act, how to dress, what to say, and I knew which of them I could break. Now there are no rules and I feel worried I am not acting as I should.'

She drew a breath, unwilling to voice her fear but unable to keep silent any longer. 'What if my aunt is right? Not about me being mad, obviously, but what if I am bringing shame on the family?'

Fritha raised a contemplative eyebrow.  
'Do you really believe that destroying a dangerous cult that was preying on the weak has marred you family's honour?'

Nalia frowned slightly. Well, _had_ it? Would anything she had done so far have given her father cause to wear the tired frown he would sometimes get? Like the times he would catch her sneaking back into the castle with the dawn, or when he would find out she'd had another argument with her aunt.

'No, I don't believe so.'

Fritha nodded and sighed.  
'I understand it can be difficult, living outside the rules society has lain down, but the rewards can be great as well. In the end, all you can do is act how you believe you should. I know that's not much advice, but this life is new for you; take your time, allow yourself to make mistakes and trust your own nature.' Fritha smiled warmly and Nalia felt her spirits rise. 'You know, you're one of the nicest people I've met in a long time. You'll be fine.'

'What about you, Aerie? Where were you schooled?' Fritha continued before the silence between them could grow awkward and Nalia glanced back to the elf at her side in time to see her shrug slightly.

'I didn't go to school. I was taught at home with my sisters.'

'I didn't know you had any sisters,' Nalia cut in with surprise; all the times they had talked together she had never heard Aerie speak of her family once.

'Yes, two. My mother taught us herself when we were younger. She was a mage, a devotee of Aerdrie Faenya, and she taught all three of us to read, write and use numbers, as well as the history of our people and other lands. Then, once we were older, we had tutors. Euripal was the first to get one, being the eldest, but also the most focused.'

Aerie smiled gently, eyes gazing out at something only she could see as she continued.

'She must have been drawn to music from an early age for I can't remember a time when the house wasn't filed with the sound of her singing or practising her flute; there was even talk of sending her to the music school over in the east of the city. I wonder if she ever went…'

She trailed off and for a moment she looked sad, before the smile was pulling at her mouth once more.  
'Helia, my other sister, was the complete opposite. She never seemed to know what she wanted to do, always drifting from one thing to the other, she must have gone through nearly every teacher in the city! One day she wanted to be a painter, the next a seamstress, then a dancer. But she was so good-natured, my parents indulged her; Father said she would find her place in time.'

'And what of you?' asked Nalia, fascinated by this description of the family she had not even realised the elf possessed. Aerie smiled shyly.

'Oh, some of my earliest memories are of joining my mother at our local temple, watching her use the Weave to help others, so it only seemed natural that I should follow her in her work. I learnt from my mother until she died, and then taught myself from the books she left.'

'Is that what you used to do in the circus? Magic?'

Aerie nodded.  
'Yes, I was an illusionist, like Kalah, though our acts tended to be quite different. And I was the assistant for Keva the knife-thrower and I helped collect the tickets and sell sweets and lots of other little things; everyone has to take on lots of roles in a circus, especially a small one.'

'You've been with the circus a while then,' Nalia confirmed, 'you must know the city pretty well.'

But Aerie shook her head brightly.  
'Oh no, we'd only just been in Athkatla a tenday when I met Fritha. The circus would travel Amn from Ches to the middle of Eleasias and wintered in a city,' the elf explained, Nalia noting the past tense she used to do so, though she said nothing. 'Last year it was Crimmor, the year before, Keczulla.'

'Keczulla,' Nalia repeated eagerly, 'oh, Mother's parents used to live there, though they are long passed now. Do the olive trees still line the main avenue up to the town hall? I remember Grandfather would take me along there in the late autumn and put me on his shoulders until I'd collected an apron full, then we would walk to the river to sit and share them as we watched the herons fishing.'

Aerie dipped her face, looking uncomfortable.  
'Ah, I- I'm not sure. The circus was camped on the other side of the city and I didn't like to go far from it…' she confessed quietly.

'Oh…'

Silence seemed to fall between them again, Nalia drawing a breath and turning stalwartly to their leader, the girl sat chewing her bottom lip and looking distant.

'So what of you, Fritha?'

The girl started slightly, glancing to her with a confused look before she seemed to realise herself, shrugging nonchalantly.

'Oh, I was just given lessons by the sages back in Candlekeep, and I did a lot of reading myself, I suppose. You know the sort of thing, history, geography, the sciences. They didn't seem to care what I was studying, as long as I was learning _something_.'

But Nalia did not share her indifference.  
'Candlekeep?' she repeated; the library fortress was legendary as a centre for knowledge throughout Faerûn. 'You were sent _there _for your education?'

'What? Oh no,' the girl laughed gently, 'I grew up there. My foster father, Gorion, was one of the sages. I'd never set foot outside its walls until this spring, Gorion died soon afterwards and I've just been travelling ever since.'

'_Just_ been travelling?' repeated Aerie with an incredulity that matched Nalia's own, 'Fritha, you're one of the heroes of Baldur's Gate!'

Fritha gave a dismissive snort.  
'_That _was something decided after the fact; I could just as easily be sitting before you now as the _Scourge_ of Baldur's Gate and with no change to anything I did whilst there.'

Fritha hadn't meant it as a joke, but the two girls seemed to find it quite funny all the same, both giggling merrily. Fritha shrugged to herself; perhaps she would have found it amusing as well had the whole affair not been so steeped in death, and there was something about being sentenced to hang one moment and hailed as a hero the next that she had found wholly irritating.  
"People are by nature fickle…" Tethtoril reminded behind her eyes and she found herself nodding in agreement, Aerie's voice starting her from the thought.

'I'm getting hungry, should we go down to dinner?' Nalia looked unsure a moment and the elf smiled. 'Or we could have some sent up here. Shall I go and order for us?'

It was agreed, and Aerie disappeared downstairs, returning moments later with a carafe of ale and some cups, the food arriving with the maid soon after and they ate and drank with amity, the talk of the Gate sparking off a conversation about where they had each travelled, Fritha giving the girls a very abridged account of the iron crisis as she had seen it.

Fritha sighed, stretching slightly where she lay on the hearthrug, her chair promoted to the status of table and carrying the remains of her dinner. The combination of the ale and the heat had done nothing for her head, a pain that seemed to centre on her bruised temple throbbing through her skull. It was definitely time to retire for the evening.

She rose stiffly from the floor, offering Nalia a smile that the girl returned. Like many things, time would be the healer here.  
'Well, I'm quite tired,' Fritha sighed, crossing to the door, 'I think I'll have an early night. Sleep well.'

The girls nodded and Fritha left them talking quietly, moving back into the hall and more than looking forward to the solitude of her room, though it seemed she had merely postponed her fate rather than avoided it, her hand mere inches from the door handle when she heard her name spoken.

Heavy with resignation, she turned to see Jaheira standing in her own doorway with the air of someone who had been listening for her arrival. The woman sent her a measured look and it took all Fritha's will then not to fly into her room and bar the door shut behind her.

'Fritha, I thought it was you,' Jaheira began, her tone of casual surprise fooling no one. 'I am aware you are tired,' the woman continued quickly, cutting off her anticipated objection and moving to stand next to her, 'but we have not really had a chance to speak yet today. I know you explained very clearly your views on Imoen's imprisonment earlier-'  
Too clearly, Fritha considered as she saw the doubt in the woman's eyes; it seemed she too could do with some practise in the finer subtleties of acting when it came to the druid.  
'-but,' Jaheira sighed, 'I understand how it could upset someone all the same…'

Fritha felt her stomach tighten. Jaheira was right, of course, and perhaps if the druid had been there at the temple when she had first found out and not Anomen, she would have felt more able to speak of her fears. But now it seemed too late.  
Fritha had spent so long convincing herself there was nothing to worry about, that she did dare not admit it now; speaking the words aloud somehow making the danger all the more real, and the image of her trying to voice her concerns and just breaking down into noisy tears in the middle of the hallway was not an appealing one. The girl swallowed dryly and shrugged, a grin pulling at her mouth.

'Come now, Jaheira, I'm fine; you know what they say, no sense, no feeling,' she laughed, making to turn into her room. Jaheira caught her elbow.

'Fritha…'

She turned back to give the druid her most winning smile.  
'Really, I'm fine. It doesn't change anything. Imoen is still imprisoned and we still have to rescue her. I mean, it's a lot better her being there than some dungeon, isn't it?'

Jaheira stared at her a moment longer and Fritha let her smile lessen slightly, her face take on the open almost inviting look of one baring the innermost secrets of their soul up for scrutiny; the one she had always used when lying to Gorion.  
'Really, Jaheira,' she continued, her voice softer, 'it's okay.'  
Jaheira smiled finally, tired but genuine, releasing her arm to pat it gently and disappearing back into her room.  
It had always worked too, Fritha considered darkly, turning into her own room and closing the door firmly behind her.

But as much as Fritha had played up the fact she was exhausted, she wasn't really tired and found herself at quite a loss once she closed the door, the room lying empty about her. She sighed, sinking on to the bed, absently wishing she still had her lute; many a dull evening in Candlekeep flying by once she'd picked up the instrument. The girl had often settled down at some hour of the afternoon, only starting to suddenly find herself in darkness, so intent upon her playing that she would not even notice the sun set.

But wishing did the usual 'very little' and she settled on practising her scales, though she stopped halfway through the second octave, embarrassed by the thought that others could hear, her voice coming strangled and wavering from a nerve constricted throat. And so for want of anything else to do she changed into her shift, drew the curtains and crawled into bed.

Fritha lay there in the gloom, trying to further the few stories she kept in her mind for when she could not sleep. But each one seemed to take a turn for the darker as she let them flow behind her eyes; Alecto lost the baby she was carrying, Lyda's newly discovered love with Robert was cut short when she suddenly found him abed with a rival, and poor Dieth's ship sank with all hands!

Fritha huffed crossly, turning over her pillow as she would have liked to turn over her troubled mind. Through the wall, she could hear the undulating chant of Jaheira's prayers and she frowned. They were all at it; her, the avariel, the squire.  
Had they learnt nothing of the nature of gods from Sassar or the guardians?  
Praying to those who thought no more of mortals than as objects and servants, who manipulated their lives as though the world was a game…

Of course, she had been known to utter a prayer now and then, when one of her more pious friends had seemed to need it, but she found herself approaching the thing less as exalting worship and more as a sort of deal; a prayer here, some help there. Which was probably why it never seemed to do much, she concluded glumly.

Still, Fritha considered, even the gods were not invincible and fate controlled them too. How else could Bhaal have foreseen his own death, if it was not already written?  
And at that moment of realisation, she felt such a pang of sympathy for that dark dead god that she almost laughed. How foolish to feel pity for such a being, especially after what he had wrought once he'd discovered it. But who was not to say they wouldn't have done something similar, clung to existence with as desperate a grip, if presented with proof of their own immanent demise?

Fritha sighed, staring up at the cracked ceiling, the room stained sepia as dusk fell in the world outside, Imoen's face swimming behind her eyes.  
Of course, it was foolish and not to mention pointless to worry about things you could not change and, indeed, there _were_ much worse places Imoen could be. But however many times she reminded herself of these valid points, Fritha was still unable to suppress the image of her friend in some bright white cell, faceless men in stark black robes observing her through the bars, silent and watchful.

Fritha sighed again, giving up on sleep and moving to the open window, laying her head upon the sill to stare out at the still twilight rooftops, a pale ghost of a moon just visible in the fading western sky, and in that instant her desire to just run away was almost palpable.  
In her mind it all seemed so simple, and she saw herself just grabbing her bag and cloak to leap from the window, from rooftop to rooftop heading for the docks or city gates, anywhere to make her escape.

Fritha smiled humourlessly. She may be good with twisting the truth, but she was not so skilled yet as to fool herself. She could not flee from this for she carried it inside her. Imoen.  
Fritha felt her chest constrict at the thought. The knowledge that the girl's life lay with her was a heavy burden and she knew, however far she ran, she would find no peace until her friend was safe.

_But then…_ she considered, watching the clouds drift into the deepening night. She and Imoen had planned it together in Ulgoth's Beard, their daring escape east.  
But could they just leave Jaheira and Minsc behind now they were alone in the world? They might want vengeance on Irenicus… so might Imoen, for that matter, which would more than likely cause untold problems; the Cowled Wizards unlikely to just allow them to execute one of their new patients, however justified it seemed.

Fritha had no desire to meet the mage again, revenge be damned, and she felt her skin bristle, the memories of that filthy cage and the tortures she'd endured rushing in to haunt her.

It would be another long night…


	14. With aspect stern

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**With aspect stern**

Anomen took another long draft of water, smoothing a hand a cross his mouth as he set the cup down, the plate and knife before him chiming slightly with the jolt only to be lost in the low rumble of the surrounding common room. His breakfast finished, he leant back in his chair with a satisfied sigh, his eyes drifting over the other patrons as they too took their first meal, unable to stop a smile pulling at his mouth as the previous day's events came back to him.

If his visit to the temple had not been inspiring enough, with the High Watcher so full of grave praise, Anomen's meeting with Sir Ryan Trawl had been no less encouraging. The man sat austerely behind the heavy oak desk, listening to his report of the last few days' travel before heartily commending him on his works so far and perhaps, Anomen considered, knighthood was closer than he'd first thought. Though he had been unwilling to let his mind linger on this, and had not even mentioned his hopes to his friends in the end; Simon catching him outside the dormitories with a couple of other squires he was not so well acquainted with.

Anomen sighed as the maid arrived to clear the table. He had meant to use the rest of his afternoon to visit his sister, but Simon had been eager to hear about his travels, the four of them going to the local tavern "for a quick half" as his friend had put it, and before Anomen had known it, the moon was high and he was onto his third ale.

Something he had rather regretted that morning, the day beginning early, as it had; a knock at his door dragging him from his bed to reveal Fritha, a dark bruise at her temple and a pile of clean laundry in her arms.  
They had worked out between them which of the clothes were his and she'd left him with a smile, going to awaken the next unfortunate friend, while he'd returned to sleep, rising an hour or so later to find the others already at breakfast.

Anomen frowned slightly as the door of the tavern banged open, though more out of habit than any real displeasure, watching as a group of unfamiliar mercenaries wandered up to the bar. Jaheira and Fritha had left just as he'd arrived, to attend their meeting with the thief master, Renal Bloodscalp, and though Anomen knew he would not be able to accompany them in any unlawful acts the man would no doubt suggest, he was very mindful of the decision he had made to stay with their company, and had kept his comments on such to a minimum.

And, one by the one, the others had left as well, drifting back to their rooms to prepare for the day and leaving him alone at the table, the previous evening's excesses making breakfast a slow campaign, and he must have been there for at least an hour before he'd finally finished.  
Anomen glanced up again as the door banged open once more, not really expecting it to be the pair and he was on his feet before he could draw breath, his chair clattering to the floor behind him as he rushed to help Fritha, the girl almost collapsing under the weight of the woman she was supporting.

'What happened?' he cried, his suspicions instantly turning to the thief master as he caught Jaheira about the shoulders, taking her weight from Fritha and the girl straightening to answer him.

'I- I don't know. She didn't come into the guild with me and when I came out, she was slumped on the steps just up from the quays. She says she's been cursed!'

Jaheira drew a rasping breath, her voice hoarse.

'Pl- Ployer, blight his soul!' she croaked, her fury evident even in her weakened state, the woman struggling to stand a moment before slumping once more in his grasp and Fritha looked stricken.

'Come on, help me get her upstairs; where's Aerie?'

Anomen lifted Jaheira easily, carrying her upstairs, Fritha opening the druid's door before tearing along the hallway to rouse Aerie, the elf already panicked by Fritha's wild appearance. Together the three of them settled Jaheira in her bed, Aerie running back to her room for her bag, lighting the fire with a word and emptying her flask into a small iron pot and hanging it over the flames, adding various herbs as it heated and infusing the room with the heavy woody scent.

At last, it was declared ready, the elf spooning some into a waiting cup and adding more water to cool it before passing the mixture to Fritha, the girl helping Jaheira to sit, her hands steady as she held it to the woman's lips. Anomen watched as the druid finished it by sips, the cup returned to Aerie with a grateful glance as Fritha settled the woman back on her pillows and finally Jaheira drew a deep fractured breath and spoke.

'Ployer… it was Baron Ployer. He was a slaver here years ago, breeding people like animals in Calimshan!' she spat with real venom, her anger still strong even after all that time.

'I was with the group of Harpers that exposed him. It would have been more fitting for him to hang, but the courts decided seizing his assets was enough of a punishment. He was left destitute and I thought it an end to the matter. Ployer clearly considered otherwise.'  
Jaheira drew a breath, her throat catching and her voice was suddenly lost to hoarse coughing, Fritha hurrying to refill her cup with water, the woman spilling half of it as her frame shook, until at last she managed to take a long draft, the fit subsiding enough for her to continue.

'I- I ran in to him as I waited for you on the docks, though our meeting turned out to be no mere coincidence. We were arguing and then a group of mages appeared; I do not know how many, but they all wore black robes… black with green trim. There was a flash, and suddenly I could barely stand. And Ployer, that _wretch_, was stood over me crowing about how I would now suffer a long and wasting death!'

'A curse,' breathed Aerie at his side. 'Oh, Jaheira…'

'I'm not dead yet!' the woman snapped fiercely. 'Before he left, he spoke of Belgrade. He was a Harper informant, a merchant by trade, and he helped us to expose Ployer. Bernard, the barman downstairs, is used to pass messages through the network… he- he might know where to find him.'

A final heavy sigh and Jaheira slumped back into the pillows again, not unconscious, but the effort of speaking had clearly been exhausting for her.

'She should really get some rest,' said Aerie gently and Fritha nodded, rising from the bed and turning to ask in an undertone, 'how- how long do we have?'

Aerie hesitated, glancing quickly to her patient.  
'Well, I- I've never seen this kind of curse before, it has taken hold very quickly… I- I think about a day, perhaps longer.'

Fritha swallowed, her face set, the ashen pallor of her skin the only thing to betray her distress.  
'We should get going. Aerie can you-?'

'Of course,' the elf cut in with uncharacteristic firmness and Fritha gave her a wan smile as she turned to leave, Anomen moving to follow her, a thin croak from the bed halting them both.

'Wait… Fritha…'

Fritha glanced up to him, nodding for him to continue on out as she turned back to Jaheira, the woman wearing a soft look he had never seen before, Aerie pointedly turning to busy herself over the fireplace and give them some privacy. And the last thing he saw as he closed the door was Fritha sinking on the edge of the bed, Jaheira moving a frail hand up to brush the stray curls from the girl's face as she spoke.

Anomen moved purposefully along the hallway, rousing first Nalia and then Minsc and bidding them to the common room to await Fritha, the grim set of his face forestalling even the ranger's questions. Just a moment to visit his own room for his cloak and weapon, and he returned to the hall as Jaheira's door opened once more, Fritha appearing in the hallway.

He watched as she pulled the door closed behind her and leant back against the wood with a sigh, her eyes raised in silent query to the ceiling. For a moment he thought she might cry, and he hovered in his doorway, unsure whether his presence would be a help or hindrance. But before he could decide, she'd pushed herself upright with a deep breath and walked off down the corridor.

He waited a moment longer, unwilling to let the girl realise he may have seen her, and when he arrived downstairs she was already halfway through telling the others, Nalia stood with a hand at her mouth looking horrified while Minsc towered over them both, almost trembling with barely contained fury.

'He has cursed our druid? This is a crime against Nature herself and Minsc will make him _pay_!'

'Yes, well we've got to find him first,' snapped Fritha turning to stride up to the bar, the portly balding man behind it glancing up from the cup he was cleaning to give her a friendly nod.

'Yes, what can I get for y-?'

'You Bernard?' she cut in brusquely and the man nodded easily enough, though Anomen could not help but notice him pale slightly as well. 'I'm looking for Belgrade.'

Bernard gave her a bewildered smile.  
'Well now, miss, I've not heard that name bef-'

'Perhaps Boo can help you to remember, yes?' rumbled Minsc, a large hand flying across the bar to grab him, and Fritha caught it just in time.

'Peace Minsc,' she soothed, a steel to her voice as she whirled back to Bernard, the man now flattened back against the bottled covered shelves behind him looking alarmed. 'We haven't time for this! I know about the Harpers and Jaheira is ill! Now where is he?'

'I- I don't know, miss,' he finally stuttered, relaxing somewhat as Minsc took a step back from the bar, 'I've not heard from him for nigh on a month or more now. He has a stall in the promenade, though he was talking about moving over to the bridge district once his lease ran out at the end of the season. More than that,' he shrugged, looking apologetic, 'I- I just don't know.'

Fritha nodded once.  
'My thanks.'

The girl turned away from the bar, the others gathering round her as she spoke.  
'Right. Minsc and Nalia, you two go and see if you can find Belgrade. He may know how to track down Ployer. Anomen and I will speak with the thieves' guild about his links to slavery here, see if we can find him that way.'

'He will not hide from Minsc and Boo,' the ranger roared with his usual enthusiasm, 'his evil will meet my sword this day!'  
Fritha sent Nalia a frown as though wondering if she should not change their pairings, but the girl just smiled reassuringly, laying a hand upon the man's arm.

'Don't worry, we'll find him. Good hunting.'

Fritha nodded.  
'To us both.'

xxx

Outside, the weather was still and close and Anomen felt his forehead bead, the humid air instantly condensing on his skin. Overhead the heavens were an arc of curdled white; a thin layer of hazy cloud holding in the sun's heat and the whole sky glowed with a strange glary light.

The two pairs stood a moment facing each other, a nod passing between them and Anomen watched as Nalia and Minsc turned eastwards to head to the promenade, Fritha stood at his side, facing the same way but her eyes were almost closed, her chin tilted up towards the dazzling sky.

'It will rain this afternoon,' she said eventually, turning to him, eyes shaded beneath a hand, 'you can feel it in the breeze, a certain weight to the air.'

He nodded and swallowed dryly, unsure of what to say, but she did not seem to expect a reply, turning to march westwards towards the docks, the crowds parting before her, none willing to stray into the path of so determined a stride.

Anomen followed, catching her easily and they walked on in a silence as heavy and uncomfortable as the air about them, his discomfort only growing until he could bear it no longer, the squire clearing his throat and finally breaking the stillness.

'My lady, how do you suppose Ployer knew where to find Jaheira?'

Fritha glanced up to him sharply; it was clear she was agitated and perhaps, he considered, she did not feel like talking, though her voice was as mild as ever it was as she answered him.  
'I do not know, some sort of spell? Those mages with him sounded capable enough.'

'Perhaps,' he nodded, relieved she seemed willing to talk; there was something about the silence between them that day that felt even  
more unbearable than usual. 'Or you could have been followed this morning, did you notice anyone?'

'No,' she sighed, returning her gaze to the path ahead of them, 'but then I wasn't looking, was I. We just walked over to the temple of Helm-'

'The temple of Helm?' he cut in, throwing her a surprised glance, 'why?'

Fritha shrugged.  
'I wanted to see if they had caught any more of the cultists,'

_And see if they fetched Sassar out as you asked them too,_ Anomen's mind prompted and he was unsure whether to be offended that she had not believed they would, or pleased that she has wanted to check.

'Sassar was there,' she added and he felt himself fighting against a smile despite their grim situation, the girl continuing oblivious, 'they have given him quarters above the temple and he spends his days helping out there and praying. He said that he and the other outcasts were guided out early this morning though some are still being treated in the temple infirmary; the path to the guardians was not a easy one, but they managed it. The avatar destroyed the artefact, and released the guardians to death; apparently they died singing their praises to Amaunator.'

There was a relief to her voice and Anomen realised that Sassar's quest to the guardians must have been a worry that had still been pressing on her. A slight guilt twinged in his stomach. If he was honest, he had thought no more on any of it since they had left the sewers.

'Then,' Fritha continued briskly, 'once we left the temple, we went straight to the docks. I went into the thieves' guild and Jaheira said she'd meet me outside later. I met with Renal, asked about work, left just under an hour later and you know the rest.'

'It took an _hour_ to ask if he'd any work for us?' Anomen confirmed incredulously and she turned to give him a mildly irritated look.

'Well, _yes_. One does not just launch into such discussions. We took tea and talked idly over a couple of games of draughts. It was all very civilised, as men of uncivilised professions are often wont to be.'

Anomen turned his attention back to their path as silence held them again, the warm sandstone of the customs house slowly shifting into view as they followed the curve of the street, the moments passing slowly by when a sudden deep sigh broke the stillness.  
He glanced down to Fritha, the girl's eyes still fixed ahead of them, her voice coming strange and soft, free of its previous terseness.

'Did you ever imagine life would be like this?'

Anomen blinked slowly.  
'I- I'm sorry?'

She shrugged slightly, turning to look at him as they finally reached the customs house, the tunnel to the docks yawning dark before them.

'When you were younger, I mean. Did you even think it would be this…' her voice trailed off, the sudden shadow as they entered the tunnel making it hard to read her expression, though for just a moment he thought he saw a flicker of intense regret. But just as suddenly it was gone and the girl shook herself, the terseness about her once more. 'Just forget it.'

She went to step into the light and before he could stop himself, he had caught her arm to halt her, though he instantly dropped it again, embarrassed by his own forwardness.  
'I, ah…'

And he wanted to tell her he understood. Tell her of his own disappointment sometimes, when he thought back to how his father had always stood in his way. How he'd had to struggle for everything he had ever wanted, and even then the man was a shadow over his life; any moment of pleasure always marred by some humiliating gossip of the bastard's drunken antics, or worry for his sister alone with the man in that joyless old house. But he just couldn't bring himself to speak of it, to simply announce feelings he usually kept so well buried…

'We will find Ployer, my lady,' he reassured with a hearty smile, and he felt his stomach twist at the emptiness of her look. She had been reaching out to someone and he had just dismissed her.

'Yes,' she answered eventually, her voice even as she stepped out into the glare of the docks. 'Yes, of course.'

xxx

The docks were cooler than the slums, a breeze coming in off the sea and Anomen could see dark clouds gathering on the horizon. Together they crossed the first terrace to the plain grey building that housed the local thieves' guild, Anomen struggling against a scowl as he thought of the corruption within.

'Right, wait here,' began Fritha, reaching for the door handle, and he put an arm out to halt her.

'I will not allow you to enter alone, my lady.'

The girl sighed, but seemed too tired to argue the point.  
'Fine, just don't start anything.'

She pushed open the door and he followed her into the gloom, the room they entered large and airy, stairs leading off to the left of them, crates and chests stacked neatly about the rest of the room, though it was seemingly empty of people barring the three men sat at the foot of the stairs, the middle one rising as they approached. The man was shorter than him but only just, dark hair cropped so close his head was almost shaved, narrow eyes watching them both with clear contempt.  
Anomen squared his shoulders, his breastplate creaking pointedly as Fritha stepped forward.

'You lost?' the thief began with a sneer, the two men behind him laughing quietly.

'No,' Fritha answered with no less disdain, eyes glancing about the room, 'where is the blond girl, Myrtle?'

'She ain't here. You can talk t' me.'

'Fine,' she sighed tersely, clearly trying to keep her patience, 'I need to see Renal. It's very urgent.'

The man raised an eyebrow.  
'You got an appointment?'

'No, I-'

'If you ain't got an appointment, then you ain't going t' see him.'

'You tell her, Carter,' one of the men behind him laughed.

'_Look_,' snapped Fritha through gritted teeth and Anomen could hear the anger she was trying to suppress quivering in her voice as she continued in slow clipped tones, 'just ask him if he'll see me. My name is Fritha.'

But Carter merely snorted, stepping up to meet her toe to toe.

'I don't care what your name is! You ain't seeing him, now push off!'

The thief had raised a hand, clearly meaning to end his order with an encouraging shove to Fritha's shoulder and before Anomen had realised, he grabbed the wrist, twisting it angrily away from her.

'Do not presume to lay hands upon her, dog!'

Suddenly everything seemed to erupt, Carter's outraged cry almost drowned out by Fritha's shriek of 'Anomen!' The two companions leapt to their feet, everyone all shouting at once, when a pointed cough sounded above them and silence fell, Anomen turning to see a short wiry man of late middle age at the top of the stairs, shaggy dark hair greying at his temples whilst gimlet eyes surveyed them all with a frown.

Carter recovered first, bowing respectfully.  
'Renal, these people wanted t' see you an-'

'So I gathered,' the thief master interrupted icily, barely sparing him a glance, his gaze trained unblinkingly on the girl before him, 'please show them up, Carter, I am sure I've a few moments to spare.'

'Milord,' he muttered sullenly, though he did as he was told, leading them up the stairs and showing them along the corridor to the small office, Renal already seated behind his desk and staring up at them with a cold anger.

'So, you have your audience, what is it you want?'

Fritha stepped forward with a quick bow, looking as though she was having to force herself to meet his eye.  
'Your pardon first; it was not my intention to bring trouble to your guild.'

She held his gaze a moment longer, before she dropped her face and Anomen could hardly believe his eyes as the flush crept into her cheeks, her shame evident; she seemed to hold this _thief_ in higher regard than all the priests and paladins she had met put together!  
Renal watched her with a contemplative look, as though trying to discern whether her contrition was genuine before he sighed and Anomen was surprised to see him smiling faintly.

'Yes, I can believe that of you -though might I suggest a more restrained choice of bodyguard in the future,' he added with a pointed glance to him and Anomen returned the look with a scowl. Something which merely seemed to amuse the man further, the old thief continuing genially, all clearly forgiven. 'Now on to your question, Fritha.'

'What do you know of slavers in the city?'

'Slavers?' Renal repeated with mild surprise, 'the Shadow Thieves do not currently deal in the trade; Aran Linvail has no taste for it and I must say I agree with him.'

Fritha smiled faintly.  
'That surely does not stop others. I do not need a list of names, I only wish to know of one called Ployer and where in the city he could be staying.'

Renal smiled broadly.  
'Well, you _are_ full of surprises. That is not a name I have heard spoken recently. He left the city in disgrace almost six years ago. I doubt he has any friends here, even among the slavers. Why are you looking for him?'

And so Fritha repeated to him all that Jaheira had told them, the thief finally shaking his head with a sigh.

'I am sorry, I can tell you no more than I have already. I will ask my people to keep an ear out for the name, but other than that, there is little more I can do. However, these mages you speak of may be your best lead. All mage groups must register with the Cowled Wizards over at the Council building.' Renal glanced to him with a dry smile. 'If they are lawful, that is.'

xxx

Anomen sighed, glad for the shade of the trees as the noon bells sounded across the city, the pair stood in the gardens in front of the Council buildings, Fritha next to him, leant back against the nearest trunk with her eyes closed and drawing deep slow breaths as she tried to calm herself.

Anomen understood her anger for it matched his own, the Cowled Wizards' representative, Corneil, barely sharing two words with them before dismissing her questions as nonsense, such a mage group not existing within the city; Fritha only just controlling her temper enough to march swiftly out and looking as though she was regretting such restraint now.

'That _man_,' the girl breathed, looking like she was fighting to keep herself from marching right back in there to give Corneil a piece of her mind and Anomen wondered whether he should bother to restrain her or not if the time came. But he was saved the decision as the doors of the building opened, a sandy haired man in clerk's robes appearing in the mouth, clearly glancing about for something before he noticed them and was suddenly hurrying across the grass.

'Excuse me, miss… I believe you have been looking for some associates of mine.'

Fritha sent him a stern look.  
'The mages in green and black; Corneil knew nothing of you.'

The man shrugged.  
'It is not for him to know. The Cowled Wizards watch mages closely, but there is still a high demand for mages to perform certain services. That is where my associates come in.'

'Certain services,' repeated Fritha, her voice icy, 'you mean like _cursing_ people? Are you here to sell me the cure?'

To his credit, the clerk did not quail under her glare, though Anomen noticed the man could not meet her gaze as he continued.

'I- I understand the recent arrangement with Ployer has left one of your companions fighting for her life, though the power to lift the curse lies with him, not us. The current deal with Ployer is completed, though we are contracted to help Ployer once more, should you actually find his whereabouts. However,' he continued quickly, finally raising his eyes to her once more, 'I have been told to offer you an alternative. We could give you his location and make other arrangements for a fee, say one thousand gold pieces.'

'A _thousand_ gold?' Anomen cried before he could stop himself and Fritha shot him a look, hefting her purse with a faint smile as she turned back to the clerk.

'I have barely half that.'

The man eyed her shrewdly and at last nodded once.  
'I would not normally accept, but Ployer is a distasteful client even by our standards.'

She silently tossed him the purse; all the money they had been gifted by the temple and she did not even hesitate.  
'You will find Ployer in the eastside of the slums, in a house next to a converted boat of all things. I look forward to _not_ working with you. Good day.'

The man turned and disappeared back into the council building, Fritha instantly whirling to him with a sudden urgency.  
'Come on!'

xxx

She drove them through the slums at a pace Anomen found hard to match, even with his superior height, striding through the labyrinth of streets and stopping only once to ask directions of a couple of grubby street children. One of them offered to show them the way, and it seemed only moment's later they were stood before a rundown old house, shutters hanging from the windows on rusted hinges, the rough wooden door looking little better.

Fritha stood silent, staring up at the building with a dark look and Anomen dismissed the boy with a few coppers, the child wishing him 'good business' and disappearing down the nearest ally, clearly sensing the trouble to come.  
Fritha glanced to him, and he was pleased to see her manner soften slightly, though her voice remained hard.

'I do not know what to expect from Ployer, but his actions so far mark him as a coward. Be ready if he attempts to flee, we haven't time to find him again.'

He nodded once and she turned back to the door, lifting the latch and slowly pushing it open.

Inside, the house seemed to be little better, the room they entered small and gloomy, empty but for a low rickety table in one corner surrounded by a couple of faded misshapen cushions. Another doorway stood opposite them, something that Anomen could only describe as rags hanging across the mouth.

'Baron Ployer?' Fritha called, the curtain moving aside to reveal a short bony man, long dark hair scraped back off his gaunt face. He was dressed in a set of drab threadbare robes though he wore them proudly, as a man assured of his own superiority, fixing them with a guarded look.

'Do I know you?'

Fritha shook her head.  
'No, but I believe you are more than acquainted with a friend of mine.'

The man scowled and Anomen watched as it slowly dawned on him.

'Jaheira…' he breathed, before his rage seemed to overwhelm him, his voice shrill as he continued with venom. 'Damn that Harper wench! Was it not enough that I have my livelihood taken from me, that I am to be robbed of my vengeance as well.'

Fritha snorted, her manner hard.  
'Oh, I'm crying you a river, mate. If you had put half as much effort in to rebuilding your life as you had this petty revenge, you would not even be in this situation!'

'Impudent wench!' he shrieked, eyes wide in his drawn face, 'who are you to lecture me? Such arrogance reeks of the Harpers; you two are more of their ilk I assume.'

'You assume incorrectly, though that is neither here nor there,' she answered with supreme disdain, coolly laying a hand upon her sword hilt. 'Remove the curse, Ployer.'

The man gave a bark of laughter, an ugly smile twisting his mouth.  
'Your threats are nothing! You came expecting a defenceless old man but I am more than prepared for this eventuality. Meet the hirelings my last favours paid for; I sleep under rags tonight, but they are well worth it. Kill them! Now!'

Silence. Ployer swallowed nervously, a ripple travelling his scrawny neck.

'Er, now?'  
Fritha smiled broadly, advancing on him with measured predatory steps and Anomen expected her to draw her blade at any moment.  
'That's the trouble with hired hands; give them a better offer and they may just jump ship.'

Ployer shrieked as her hand flew from nowhere to seize him by the neck of his robes, Fritha shaking him so hard he stumbled to his knees.

'Remove the curse, Ployer… NOW!'

From the control of before, her rage was surprising and Anomen watched impassively as Ployer choked and struggled in her grip to finally push a skeletal hand beneath the robes he wore and pass her a lock of soft brown hair.

'There, take it,' he gasped as she released him, collapsing back to stare malevolently up at her, 'I suppose now you will kill me?'

She leaned in close, her eyes hard and Anomen was sure the blow was mere moments away when a grim smile lit her features.  
'Oh, no, Ployer, something _much_ worse. I curse you with life in this misery you've engineered; I pray it is a long one.'

xxx

Outside, the bustle of the slums seemed chaotic and unreal, the cool breeze a welcome respite from the heat of the morning and Anomen wordlessly fell into step beside Fritha as they started back to the inn under a leaden sky.  
Anomen swallowed. Her sudden fury after a morning of control had been surprising, but not as surprising as her eventual mercy, however harshly it had been presented.

He had never seen her in quite that light before, used to her mild and occasionally childish ways, and he felt unsure of himself with her now, as though the rules of their relationship had been re-written.

He let his gaze fall to her again, walking beside him in silence, her eyes trained on some point far ahead and heedless of the bustle around them.

'I thought you would kill him,' he said eventually, keeping his voice even though he watched her carefully for a reaction, but she merely shrugged.

'There seemed little point after he had given me the cure.'

'He could still do great harm to us, to others.'

'He won't do _anything_ dead,' she snapped, the remnants of her temper still lingering in her mood, before she scrubbed a hand across her face to add calmly, 'if I had killed him then, it would have been out of anger, not need. You may not agree with my decision, butit was mine to make and I do not regret it.'

She sighed slightly, a weariness settling over her as she stared down at the lock of hair, the scarlet string that bound it bright against her palm.

'You seem tired,' he commented, but when she raised her eyes to him, they were bright once more.

'I'm fine.' She smiled warmly, quickening her pace. 'Come, let's get this back to Jaheira.'


	15. Years of afternoon

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Years of afternoon**

Aerie glanced to the window, the room dark as rain clouds gathered outside, though she could not seem to stir herself to light the lamps, just sat watching the bed as the woman within writhed in the gloom. Jaheira was deteriorating much quicker than she had expected, her breathing becoming more laboured as the morning had worn on, though she did not awaken; the room silent apart from the druid's tormented muttering, jumbles of names and places the elf did not recognise.

Aerie sighed deeply, dropping her gaze to her hands, the fire guttering as a gust of wind found its way down the chimney. As confident as she had been for Fritha's sake, there really was nothing she could do until the curse was lifted and Aerie had spent the few hours since the others had left just sat feeling increasingly helpless, occasionally feeding Jaheira another cup of her elixir. Though the woman never really came round properly, often calling her Fritha or by other names she did not recognise, and Aerie wondered in the end whether she acted for the woman's comfort or her own, doing _anything_ more bearable that just sat watching Jaheira die.

Aerie closed her eyes, feeling almost sick as she imagined having to tell the others it was too late. But as awful as it felt just waiting, there really was little else she could do and though the memories were painful, she could not help but recall the timeless few days before her mother had finally succumb to her own illness all those years ago. The woman lain unmoving in her bed, clerics from the temple bustling in and out, their faces grim. Aerie could remember how she had sat on the stairs outside her mother's bedroom listening to her heavy laboured breathing. Held rapt by the knowledge that each breath could be the last while the house stood silent about her, no one speaking above a whisper and Aerie could still remember how quiet her home had seemed without Euripal's singing.

Aerie pulled her mind away and glanced to her iron cooking pot, now stood on the desk, the last dregs of her elixir cooling within; she would have to brew some more soon…

The sudden creak of the door and Aerie was instantly on her feet to receive a grim looking Fritha, Anomen appearing a couple of steps behind.

'Fritha!' she cried, unable to stop herself from rushing over to her, the girl smiling tiredly and Aerie finally felt able to breath.

'We found him, we have it,' the girl confirmed, glancing briefly in the bed to add quietly, 'how has she been?'

Aerie shrugged, not really sure herself.

'Slowly fading. She hasn't come too, just mutters things in her sleep. She- she says one more than most, a man's name, K-Khalid.'

Fritha sent the sleeping woman a pained looked, her voice quiet.

'He was her husband.'

Silence held the room a moment before Fritha shook herself, turning back to her. 'So, what do we do now?'

Aerie glanced to her patient again, fingering the soft lock of hair as she considered her course. The treatment of hexes was not something she had much experience with, but Aerie had a fair idea of the principles, and since _she_ would be treating Jaheira in any case, it seemed unnecessarily cruel to worry Fritha with needless hesitation

'Well,' Aerie began in the firm confident tone she had heard the girl herself use on many an occasion, 'I think us just having this hair back should negate the curse, though I'll mix a little into the elixir I've been giving her to be sure. Here,' she continued, cutting a little of the hair into the last of tonic, and passing the lock back to Fritha, 'that should be enough, just keep the rest safe; I'll take the charm off it later once she's recovered. I wouldn't like to risk it now, with her so weak.'

Fritha nodded and Aerie spooned the tonic into the waiting cup, passing it to the girl, Fritha moving to sit on the bed, gently shaking the woman awake.

'Jaheira?'

A deep rasping breath and Jaheira stirred, struggling to sit as she saw the girl.  
'Fri- Fritha…'

Fritha smiled, slipping an arm about the woman to help her sit as she passed her the cup.  
'We found him. We have the cure. Here, drink.'

Jaheira did as she was bid, not speaking again until she had finished, handing the girl the empty cup and settling her back onto the pillows to ask, 'Belgrade?'

Fritha shook her head tiredly.  
'I- I'm sorry. Minsc and Nalia went to look for him and I just spoke to them in the tavern; he is dead.'

'A pity,' the druid sighed, sinking deeper into the pillows, her voice growing quieter as she closed her eyes, 'he was a good man.'

Aerie watched as her breathing slowed, moving to straighten the blankets as Fritha rose from the bed, unable to help a slight smile as the woman began to snore gently.

'There,' Aerie sighed, the cold weight finally gone from her stomach as she turned to the girl behind her, 'she seems to be sleeping peacefully now. I'll sit with her if you want to get some rest yourself; you look drawn.'

'Hmm? No, I'm fine,' Fritha smiled and Anomen saw exactly what the elf meant, the girl's skin taking on a grey tinge as she approached the window, where droplets were already patting lightly against the glass. 'And look at that; I said the rain would break this afternoon, did I not.'

xxx

Anomen lay upon his bed, the remains of his dinner still on the desk awaiting the maid. Fritha had refused both his and Aerie's offers to sit with Jaheira and in the end he had given up and returned to his room, leaving the girls sat either side of the bed watching her sleep.  
He had meant to catch up on some reading that afternoon. The campaign diaries of the paladin Baerigar were considered essential study by most in the Order, but he had awoken some hours later, very thirsty and with the book open on the pillow next to him.

Anomen sighed, trying to press on with his study, though he felt as though he had been reading the same page for the last hour, his mind drifting back to the events of the day as soon as his concentration wavered.  
Seeing a women as strong as Jaheira so frail and ill had been unnerving. But even that had paled next to Fritha's reaction to her friend's sickness.

Anomen felt a familiar unease rise in his stomach as he considered what his response would have been had any of _his_ friends been so aggrieved. He would have been out for blood and no less would have sufficed. But Fritha…

Anomen shifted slightly, trying to pull his mind back to the pages before him. If he was honest, Fritha's mercy towards Ployer had bothered him. It was not that he did not understand those who were angered easily, for indeed he was the same. But, he could not imagine getting as angry as she clearly had and being able to just put it aside.

And when she had spoken of life; that awful moment of honesty in the darkness of the tunnel, guilt rising quickly within him as he recalled the emptiness of her look once he had dismissed her.

Though no doubt prompted by her worry for Jaheira, her question had not been about that and it had been unkind to pretend he'd thought otherwise, though why she had tried to speak to _him_ of all people about it, he could not fathom. But, nevertheless, it was a thought that left him feeling slightly uncomfortable.  
Still, his mind reasoned, though he was walking the path to knighthood, he was a cleric first and foremost; why should she not seek solace with him?

And, Anomen considered further, if looked at like that, he had failed not only her in this, but also his faith … perhaps he should try to broach the subject with her again. He quelled the fierce reluctance that rose within him at the thought and dropped his eyes back to his book.

Anomen sighed. It was no good. Excellent tactician though Baerigar was, the man was no lyricist, the dry prose doing nothing to distract him and Anomen at last admitted defeat, leaving the room with the vague idea of finding one of the others. But neither Minsc, nor Nalia were in their rooms and, barring the usual gathering of patrons, the tavern was empty as well, and he was moving along the hall back to his room when Fritha appeared in her doorway, her head dipped as she pressed a square of thick cloth about the ends of her damp hair.

'Ah, Fritha.'

She glanced up at the address, smiling as she saw him.  
'Hello Anomen.'

'How is Jaheira now?' he asked as he approached her, the girl straightening to toss the cloth carelessly back into her room and close the door. 'I could not find anyone to ask them.'

'Jaheira's fine, much better for her sleep. Everyone is gathered in her room, and she's been driving them all mad demanding to be entertained.' She laughed gently, clearly glad the druid seemed to have fully recovered from her ordeal in both body _and_ spirit. 'I'm heading there now; you'll come?'

He nodded and followed her down the hall to the woman's room, his apprehension, embarrassment and the intense desire to confirm Fritha was well all fighting for control and Anomen struggled with himself, her hand was almost at the handle when he broke the silence.

'A- About what you said before,' he began quickly, his voice coming strangled and wavering, as though he had not be expecting to speak. 'When you spoke of life…'

She turned back to him, frowning slightly, before a smile lit her features.

'Sor-? Oh yes, I can't think what I was talking about now; just some nonsense born from my worry for Jaheira, no doubt. But as you said, we found Ployer in the end.'

Anomen felt another twinge of guilt, his mind quick to recall his earlier avoidance of the subject and he wondered briefly it that had been her intention; a little shame to make him less willing to press the subject. He looked down at her now, giving him a warm if slightly bemused smile, the reluctance still writhing in his stomach and he wanted more than anything to believe her…  
'Well, if you are sure, my lady.'

Fritha just rolled her eyes with an easy smile, turning back to the door and they entered to find their four companions sat about Jaheira's bed playing cards, though three looked up with relief as they appeared.

'Fritha!'

'And Anomen, too!'

The room was warm and bright now, lit by the fire and several lamps and a stark contrast to the dismal scene through the rain pelted window. Jaheira straightened in the bed at their arrival with the air of an aged queen, stiffly levering herself into a more upright position to demand, 'Fritha, have you been outside? Your hair is damp.'

Fritha smiled, shaking her head as she moved into the room.  
'No, I've been down in the bathhouse trying to warm up. I don't know what it is about weather like this, but I can be sat next to a fire and I still feel all shivery. Speaking of fires,' she smiled, sinking onto the hearthrug and taking a comb and a small bottle from her pocket, and Anomen sat down beside her.

'I'm glad you've arrived,' continued the druid in authoritative tones as Fritha settled into her combing, 'I tire of cards and even the kind-hearted Nalia is growing weary of beating me at backgammon. You can entertain us with a story.'

Fritha frowned slightly, pausing in her brushing to give the druid a look, but Jaheira just smiled back and in the end she relented with a sigh.

'As you wish. Anything in particular?'

'Boo wants a story of grand adventure.'

'It should have a moral foundation.'

'Something romantic.'

'With a happy conclusion.'

'By Milil, you lot don't want much, do you?' the girl cried, looking round at them all before turning back to the druid. 'And have _you_ any stipulations, fair patron?'

Jaheira just smiled, shaking her head.  
'None, bar that you do the telling.'

Fritha smiled too, finishing her brushing to lay her comb gently on the hearth behind her and begin the ancient Kara-Turan tale of the fox and the monk, which fulfilled all their whims at least in part and left everyone with a half-smile.

Dusk had fallen by now and Fritha declared it was time for Jaheira to get some rest, ignoring the druid's objections and dimming the lamps as Aerie ushered the others into the hall, Fritha about to leave herself when the woman called her back.

'Come now,' Jaheira sighed, patting the bed and the girl sank obediently down next to her, 'another few minutes awake will not kill me, though I wonder about you.'

Fritha frowned slightly.  
'And what's that supposed to mean?'

'You don't look well; hypocritical I know, but at least _I_ have some sort of excuse.' Jaheira leant forward, peering at her face. 'You are not sleeping?'

Fritha shook her head, forcing herself to meet the woman's gaze.  
'No, no, I'm sleeping fine. Much better than I was.'

Silence fell between them, Fritha just about to haul herself up and bid her goodnight when Jaheira spoke again, her voice unusually quiet.

'Fritha, what would you have done if you had not found Ployer in time?'

'You mean if you had died…' she confirmed, dropping her gaze to her hands as she considered the question. 'I would have taken you out of the city, found some nice place, a grove of trees or the like, and Minsc and I would have buried you. And the next day I would have dragged the rest of us back to the city and carried on raising the coin for Imoen. I could have gone on, what other choice have I? But it would have only been in body. To lose you so soon after the others, I think my spirit would have finally given up.' She snorted humourlessly. 'And they think I'm strong.'

'You _are _strong,' assured Jaheira, giving her forearm a heartening squeeze, but Fritha just shrugged.

'Perhaps, but it is easy to be strong when you know that you don't have to be, that if anything ever went seriously wrong, there is someone there to fall back on. Like you.'

Jaheira smiled, her face looking older in the flickering firelight, the gentle patter of the rain the only sound.

'I note you make no mention of Ployer though,' she continued, eyes watching her shrewdly, 'you would not seek revenge?'

'I don't know. Laying you to rest would have been my first priority; then rescuing Imoen. I suppose if the opportunity was presented to me…' Fritha trailed off, unable to envision just _what _she would do.

Jaheira sent her contemplative look.  
'Yes, I heard you did not kill him.'

'Are you angry?'

'No,' she answered slowly, after a pause. 'Not to say _I_ would not have killed him, but I am glad _you _did not. I do wonder why though…'

Fritha shrugged loosely.  
'It was not for any moral reason, though he _was _unarmed and cowering at my feet,' she admitted with a snort. 'I simply did not wish to kill him. To be honest, it's rare I _want _to kill anyone. I know he could do more harm than good still alive, but on the other hand, no one is beyond redemption.'

Jaheira raised an eyebrow.  
'No one? Even Irenicus?'

Fritha's skin bristled at the thought of her callous torturer, and for a moment she could have almost been back there, staring up at the scarred mask of a face from the floor of her filthy cage. But, though he had not cared that his experiments were the cause of a great deal of pain for her, he had not been sadistic in their application. In fact, he did not seem to take any pleasure in life at all… an existence devoid of any emotion other than the cold thirst that seemed to drive him.  
What would someone have to suffer to make them so empty?

Fritha met the woman's gaze.  
'Even he.'

Jaheira eyed her a moment longer, as though trying to discern the truth of this, before nodding once, though whether she approved or not, Fritha couldn't tell.

'So,' the druid continued after a moment, settling back onto her pillows, 'how did you find Ployer in the end? Aerie was not sure of the details.'

And so Fritha told her, relating everything she could remember from when she found her collapsed outside the guild house, the druid remaining silent right up until she got to her meeting with the clerk.

'You paid them for my whereabouts?' she confirmed, and Fritha watched the realisation dawning on her face, 'the monies from the temple... _Five hundred _gold pieces?'

'No, not all of it,' Fritha soothed, trying to play up her "silver lining", 'for I had already settled our account downstairs and paid Anomen and the girls.'

'But all the money we had earned,' Jaheira sighed, 'could you not have bargained with him?'

'And risked him saying no and leaving again?' Fritha snapped. Didn't she realise how awful it had been, rushing about the city trying to find some way of saving her? 'It tore my heart enough to have to admit I hadn't the thousand he first asked for! I wasn't about to haggle when your life hung in the balance!'

Jaheira looked taken aback, and Fritha was sure a cutting reply was but seconds away, when the woman nodded once, gently patting her arm as she sank back onto the pillows.

'Peace, child, I am sorry… One thing still puzzles me though, when you first returned here with me, how did you get into my room?'

'Er,' began Fritha with a bemused frown, turning to point the door behind her.

'Yes, I know "through the door",' sighed the woman impatiently, but Fritha was sure she saw her lips twitch all the same. 'But did you stop to consider that it was locked?'

'No, it wasn't, I just turned the handle and it opened.'

Jaheira sent her a measured look.  
'I have been staying in inns long enough, girl, to know to _always_ lock your door upon leaving.'

Fritha swallowed, recalling the way the knob had turned easily in her hand.  
'Then…'

Jaheira nodded curtly.  
'As I suspected, your magic is exhibiting itself once more. Have you been practising?'

'Well,' Fritha began slowly, still trying to accustom herself to the fact she had cast without even a thought, 'I've been trying to heat water when I get the chance, but it never seems to work.'

'Perhaps you are more susceptible to casting when in a higher emotional state,' offered the druid casually. 'This worries you, doesn't it.'

Fritha started from her thoughts; was she _that_ obvious?  
'I look worried?'

'Indeed, no,' Jaheira assured with a slightly bitter laugh, the disapproval clear in her voice, 'I don't expect _you_ to ever show your emotions so plainly. But we have been together a while now, I can always tell. You get this absent look- as though you were dropped on your head as a child,' she added with a slight smirk and Fritha grinned.

'Ah Jaheira, flattery will get you nowhere. Besides, I wasn't worrying, I was _considering_,' she lied, giving the woman a sanctimonious nod for good measure. 'To be able to unconsciously work my will upon the world may not be the greatest of gifts. I can't see it being very good for morale when Anomen spontaneously combusts during our next argument.'

Jaheira gave a bark of laughter.  
'Ha! You have been friends with _Imoen_ for years and not a spark. I think the squire is quite safe…' the woman paused to send her a gentle look, 'we will travel with her again, you know.'

'Yes, I know,' Fritha smiled, finally rising to proffer the woman a cheek to kiss in the customary gesture of respect between child and elder, the woman chuckling slightly as she obliged her.

'Night Jaheira.'

'Goodnight, child.'

xxx

Fritha awoke with a start, feeling disorientated and sick, her heart pounding in her chest as she took in her room at the inn, a warm yellow in the morning sunlight. Another dream.

She had been somewhere dark, strapped face down to a table, hands tied roughly underneath it and back bared just as she had been in the dungeon on occasion. Only this time her friends were looking on, Imoen watching with an absent smile and Jaheira telling her over and over about how no one was beyond redemption as she'd sensed his presence looming over her.  
'_Ah, the child of Bhaal has awoken._'

Fritha swallowed, reaching for the cup of water on her bedside table though she did not drink, merely glad to have the comfort of something solid in her hand as the sensations returned to her.  
The whisper of metal on metal as the knife was selected and drawn, those awful few seconds just waiting for it to begin, and she'd awoken with the searing pain of that first deep score along her back.

A knock at the door made Fritha jump enough to spill her water, anger at herself rising as she struggled from the bedclothes, throwing open the door to reveal Aerie and Nalia, both looking fair and cheerful.

'_Yes_?'

'Good morning Fritha,' greeted Nalia brightly, the beginnings of a frown slowly creeping across her brow, 'are you well?'

'I'm fine! What-' she began tersely, stopping herself at their surprised expressions and drawing a breath to continue more gently, 'what is it?'

Aerie swallowed, sending a glance to the girl next to her before tentatively replying, 'm-my uncle has sent for me, he- he asks that we all come.'

xxx

Fritha shielded her eyes with a hand, scanning along the wide street, the sky a clear arc of blue above her. The rains had at last taken some of the humidity from the air, and Fritha was finding it quite pleasant stood in the morning's bustle as they searched for the inn Quayle had directed them to, the gnome explaining when they had visited him at the circus, that some old actor friends were currently using the theatre there and could use their help.

Fritha smiled absently. Aerie had agreed before anyone else had drawn breath, not that she had minded; it wasn't as though they had any other plans for the day.

And so, the group had made their way to the Bridge district, the local name for the main bridge that spanned the river that split Athkatla, linking the working city of the south to the myriad of council buildings, courts and noble houses of the northern districts. And Fritha could see why the locals would count it as a district in its own right, the bridge wide enough for houses, inns and temples to line either side, the poorer buildings little more than wooden huts and jetties clinging to the stone piers just above the water level.

Being the main link between the two halves kept it busy at most hours, a fact many merchants seemed to have taken advantage of, every other building supporting some bright canopy, wares laid out on tables underneath.

Fritha turned, scanning back along the way they had come, her eyes catching on the tall figure of Jaheira, the woman leaning heavily on her staff and frowning in the sunlight. Fritha and the druid had had differing opinions that morning about whether she was recovered enough to accompany them, an argument that Jaheira had won in the end, but only after promising to return to the inn if things got too arduous. The woman noticed her watching and sent her glare, clearly not pleased at being minded so, and Fritha turned back to the street before her with a smile as Nalia cried, 'Isn't that it?'

Fritha glanced to the girl at her side who was pointing to a large sandstone building across the street as she continued. 'Yes, I can see the sign.'

She followed her hand to a large painted board, half hidden behind the canopy of the nearest shop and she could only make out two of the five painted flagons from where she stood, though it was enough to convince her.  
'Let's go then.'

Fritha looked about her, taking in the open airy room, the shelves behind the bar a glittering chaos of coloured bottles, clearly offering drinks from all over Faerûn, while frescos of scenes from popular plays covered the walls. The Five Flagons Inn was easily the nicest tavern she had visited since her stay at the Elfsong in the Gate, and Fritha wandered unhurriedly up to the bar to ask after the theatre, a cheery halfling server directing them to the basement with a smile.

Downstairs, the room was larger than she'd expected and brighter as well, a huge wooden chandelier hanging from the ceiling and lamps lining the walls. Rows of benches led up to the stage, putting her in mind of the pews in a temple and Fritha walked down the central aisle, the others at her back.

She hadn't been sure what she had been expecting for her first visit to a theatre; something much busier, perhaps with rehearsals going on while people hurried about with armfuls of props and costumes and scripts. But the room couldn't have been quieter, a small group of who she presumed were actors sat talking softly on the edge of the stage, though they looked up as she approached.

'Good day, miss,' began one man and Fritha looked up into a pale angular face, his dark hair and beard neatly cropped. 'I'm afraid the play has been cancelled until further notice.'

Fritha smiled, trying to quell the strange unease that seemed to arise within her, something about the man's clothes and bearing somehow unsettling.  
'I'm not here for that, I've been sent to see Raelis.'

The actors shared a wordless look and at last the speaker nodded, rising with a smile.  
'I'll take you to her then. This way, please.'

The man walked across the stage to the steps, waiting for them to ascend before leading them through the jumble of scenery and props to the backstage. The theatre was much more dilapidated back there, paint peeling from the walls and the furniture scratched and frayed, the man finally pushing open a door onto a shabby dressing room, a very pale petite woman with vivid auburn hair, her sharp features pulled into a frown as she considered the papers on the dresser before her. One last nod and the man departed without announcing them, Fritha taking a tentative step into the room.

'Hello, Raelis?'

The woman glanced up and Fritha was surprised by the intense blue of her eyes; there was something unnatural in the vibrant mix of colours in the woman's hair and skin and eyes that left her feeling uncomfortable.

'I'm sorry,' Raelis sighed, her voice thick with an accent she could not place, 'if you are looking for a refund-'

'Er, no…' Fritha cut in with a smile, gesturing to the elf at her side, 'Aerie's uncle, Quayle, has sent us. He said you've been having trouble an-'

'You are here to help us?' Raelis cried, suddenly on her feet with her arms thrown wide and Fritha took an unintentional step backwards. 'I thank you for coming to our aid. Gather round my birds and I shall tell you our sorry tale.'

The woman waited patiently until everyone had found a seat, leaning forward slightly, bright auburn hair spilling across her shoulders as she began her story.

'One of our actors, Haer'Dalis, was kidnapped four days ago by a wizard native to this city, a mage by the name of Mekrath. No doubt his greed called him to Haer'Dalis' beloved gem… something our sparrow would not gladly surrender, and so he has stolen both away and there is nothing we can do,' she finished with a desolate sigh, reclining in her chair as though she were about to faint from the sheer despair of it.

Fritha shrugged, glancing round at her group for any sign of dissent before turning back to the woman with a smile.  
'Well, I'm sure we could look into it for you. Any idea where we could start our search?'

The woman brightened in an instant, straightening in her chair to clasp her hands together, beaming.  
'Ah, Fate smiles upon us! We have heard rumours that Mekrath holds a stronghold within the sewers near to here.'

Fritha's face must have been a picture.

'You _are_ joking!'


	16. Birds of a feather

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Birds of a feather**

'The sewers? _Again_?' stormed Fritha as they stepped back out into the street, the bridge suddenly too hot and so packed with noise and people she could not seem to think past her irritation. 'We've barely been out of them a day!'

Only Anomen appeared to share her annoyance though, frowning as he gazed downstream to where the masts and sails of ships in the harbour could just be seen.  
'Last night's rains will not aid our task.'

Jaheira said nothing, merely shrugged, moving purposefully off toward the nearest group of stalls.

'B-But we are going, aren't we?' came Aerie behind her and Fritha turned to find the elf watching her anxiously, clearly not wanting to disappoint her uncle.

'Worry not, little Aerie,' boomed Minsc with a genial smile, 'Fritha gave her word to the nice lady; she would not break it. Why, even the idea makes Boo's whiskers tremble!'

Aerie looked more confused than reassured though, glancing back to her questioningly and Fritha sighed and nodded.

'I said I would never go to the sewers again for money; I suppose this doesn't count. _Much_,' she finished in an sullen undertone that only Nalia caught, the girl sending her an unusually impish smile which looked quite at home on her freckled face.

'I have just spoken with the local merchants,' said Jaheira as she rejoined them, pointing back to where a of group men were gathered before their stalls looking as though they were trying not to laugh, at least until _they_ were out of earshot. 'There is a main sewage outlet at water level on one of the bridge piers. Apparently, we can reach it by way of the jetties. The steps are over there.'

Fritha sighed deeply, moving to hang over the crumbling wall and take in the whole other world of shacks and walkways that clung to the bridge supports, the water a murky green beneath them.

'Wonderful. I knew I wore my boots today for a reason.'

Nalia laughed, appearing at her side with a bright smile.  
'Come, my birds, let us bring the errant sparrow back to his nest!' the girl cried in quite a good likeness of Raelis and Fritha laughed as well, suddenly cheered.

'Well, you heard the woman,' she grinned, flapping her hands for good measure as she crossed to the rickety wooden steps, 'we fly!'

Fritha reached the foot of the stairs and stepped down on to the jetty, the wood creaking slightly underfoot as she moved to the edge where a couple of neglected-looking boats were moored, bobbing on the murky water. The air smelt stale and slightly sour and Fritha glanced up and down the quay, the place seemingly deserted barring three tow-headed children who were gathered outside one of the nearby shacks, the two younger girls playing with a set of tattered dolls while the elder boy sat next to them mending a net.

'Hello there,' Fritha called genially, the children glancing up at her approach, Anomen following her while the others waited by the steps. 'Is there a sewage pipe somewhere round here?'

The boy looked nonplussed a moment, before laying his work in his lap to answer her.  
'Sewage pipe? Aye, at the end o' the quay, lady, but what you wanting to know o' that for?'

Fritha smiled.  
'We've been sent to find someone; an actor from the theatre's gone missing.'

'An the first place you look is the _sewers_? I'd try the Merry Friar tavern if I wer you, that's where we always find my da when he goes missing,' he advised with a cheeky grin and his sisters giggled. Anomen bristled, frowning down at the boy.

'He has not merely _gone missing_, he has been kidnapped.'

'Why war he kidnapped?' ventured one of the girl's shyly.

Fritha shrugged.  
'I don't know; probably giving cheek to someone he shouldn't,' she supplied with a meaningful smile and the boy laughed loudly, the flushed scowling face of a fair-haired woman appearing at the window of the shack next to him.

'What the blood- oh, yer pardon, milady,' she apologised, going and even deeper shade of pink and Fritha merely smiled as she turned back to her son, 'Mattus, stop bothering these folks and get back to work.'

'Aye, ma,' he sighed as his mother's head disappeared back inside, 'good luck to you, lady.'

Fritha grinned and tossed him a copper piece.  
'Our thanks.'

The group walked the length of the quay, passing many more rundown wooden buildings along with the occasional woman or older child outside, repairing nets and boats and Fritha suspected anyone who could be was out at sea fishing at that time of day.

'There,' came Jaheira and Fritha glanced over to where the jetty ended to see a huge pipe jutting from the last bridge support, the lowest section hidden under the surface and the water all around it decidedly darker than the rest of the river.

Fritha sighed, crossing the quay to join her, covering her mouth with a sleeve as she peered into the gloom of the pipe and she could just make out the metal handrails that ran midway along both sides. Anomen was right; the rains and their location meant the sewage was a lot less solid than it had been under the temple district, the black sludge slowly flowing down the pipe's slight slope to mingle with the river water.

Fritha grinned behind her hand, throwing a glance to the woman next to her.  
'Hah, I bet you wish you'd listened to me and stayed abed now.'

The druid frowned but made no move to refute it.

'You know,' Fritha continued more gently, dropping her voice, 'you _can_ go back to the inn if you want, no one would think any less of you for it.'

Jaheira sighed and smiled dryly.  
'No, I am fine. Besides, I feel a sudden attack of the vapours_ now_,would seem rather convenient.'

Fritha grinned, straightening to call back to the others.

'Right this looks to be it. It's a lot deeper than before though, so be careful. You might want to hitch your robes up a touch more, Nalia. And anyone who can call up a light please do so.'

Fritha smiled as the group fell to their duties, the shadow of the bridge above them lifted as the three who could cast a light did, and she turned to her own task, holding out her hand before her face with the palm flat as she tried to clear her mind, summoning the energies she knew were somewhere within her.

'Fritha, what _are_ you doing?' demanded Jaheira, turning back from where she had been helping Nalia with her belts.

'Conjuring a light,' muttered Fritha, gritting her teeth as she willed the spark to appear in her hand. _Come on…  
_  
The druid raised a sceptical eyebrow.  
'You look as though you are trying to cross your eyes.'

Fritha choked back a snort, her lips quivering as she fought against a smile.  
'Don't make me laugh, I'm trying to concentrate.'

But it was too late, the moment was lost and Fritha gave up soon after with only a headache and some amused looks from the others to show for her trouble.

'Right,' came Jaheira with only the slightest hint of a sigh, 'are we ready?'

Everyone nodded and the woman turned, using her staff to steady herself as she stepped from the jetty down into the water and onto the pipe hidden beneath the surface. 'Okay, come on, Fritha.'

Fritha nodded, Jaheira taking her hand to help her as she stepped across, the flow of water reaching just under her knees, and she was glad for the rails as she shifted further into to the tunnel to make room for the next of them.

At last, they were all in the tunnel and the group set off, Minsc leading with Aerie at his side, her magelight parting the shadows before them, Fritha following with Nalia and Jaheira just behind, while Anomen brought up the rear. The pipe did not slope up steeply, but the climb was still a difficult one, the flow of sewage making it hard to keep their footing and a silence fell over the group, all focused on their trudge up the tunnel. Finally, the gradient levelled out and everyone seemed able to breath again, Jaheira breaking the stillness and turning to Fritha with a look of mild curiosity.

'I did not ask, how did your meeting with Bloodscalp go?'

'Well,' began Fritha with the sense that the druid was not the only one interested as she felt all eyes fall to her. 'He agreed to keep an eye out for suitable work for us- baring in mind we can't get mixed up in anything too dubious,' she added for Anomen's benefit since he had rather laboured the point at breakfast the previous day, sending the man a smile he did _not_ return. 'As long as we keep an eye out for anything suspicious for him. Apparently, they are having a lot of trouble from a rival guild that has just recently begun to operate in Athkatla, another thieves' guild, I suspect, as he spoke of losing members to it. He could not give me details, only asked that if I saw anything of it, that I let him know.'

Aerie glanced back from the path ahead, her face a picture of awe under the glow of her staff.  
'Ever since the circus arrived here for the winter, I've heard rumours of the man, how ruthless and calculating he is. What was he like?'

Fritha smiled as she recalled the guild master with his eloquent smile and sharp eyes.  
'Very nice, actually, though he has the quick polite manner of one who I believe would make a deadly enemy.'

Behind her Anomen huffed crossly.  
'Really, my lady, you speak as though you _respect_ the man.'

Fritha shrugged, glancing back to send him a slight smile.  
'I do. He has helped us and since he hasn't a god or institution pressing him to do so, he must have some degree of compassion in his heart.'

'Or merely he wishes to keep his newest allies as such,' observed Jaheira coolly and Anomen looked smug. Fritha though, remained resolute.

'The terms of said allegiance being to look out for work for us, not investigate slavers and even after _we-_' and by "we" she meant "Anomen", fixing the man with a look as she continued, 'nearly started a brawl at his guild house.'

Aerie gave a nervous laugh, Fritha squaring up to the scowl Anomen was sending her and perhaps Nalia sensed an argument was brewing for she coughed pointedly and asked, 'so, what was the actual meeting like?'

Fritha smiled at her; both her timely intervention and the memories it awoke more than welcome.

'It was quite pleasant and not at all as I would have expected. For a start, I thought we would talk in his office, but after meeting him there, he led me to his private rooms on the top floor of the guild. He took me into a small room, about the size of my one in the inn, sparsely furnished with only a long low table surrounded by cushions and an unlit brazier in the corner. The back wall was panelled differently to the rest of the room, and I remember noting it as he bade me sit, he himself moving to the far corner to fiddle with something and suddenly he was sliding the whole thing back, each panel neatly folding into the others like an accordion, and there was the whole harbour lain out before us!'

'I wonder how many people have met their deaths in that very room,' Anomen considered audibly. Fritha ignored him, her eyes fixed resolutely on the girl at her side.

'And we took tea, of course. Oh, that you could have seen the cups. Such fine porcelain, they must have been imported from the East. Beautiful little things that fit so neatly in your hand, they were a glossy white on the outside while the inside of the bowl held a pale blue glaze.'

'And how many have suffered to pay for such luxuries?' came Anomen again and Fritha felt her temper flare, whirling back to the man.

'Oh, Anomen will you give over; he's a thief, yes, but the world is not just black and white, and Renal's not nearly as dark as you paint him!'

The squire bridled, but held onto his composure.  
'You truly believe so? Then you are very naïve, my lady,' he said with an impressive mix of pity and disdain. Fritha merely shrugged, turning back to the path ahead.

'Well, then we have something in common, Anomen, because I was just thinking the exact same thing about you.'

xxx

This last comment, though spoken mildly enough, had brought an abrupt end to their discussion and Anomen had been bring up the rear in silence ever since, the minutes passing slowly by as they followed the twists and bends of the tunnel. Fritha glanced behind to check on him, the man catching her eye to give her a filthy scowl and she shrugged mentally. As their arguments tended to go, that last one had verged on civil; she was sure the damage couldn't be permanent.

'The squire is still his usual charming self, I see.'

Fritha turned back to find Jaheira watching her and the girl sighed.

'Do you think it's something about down here? Hardly ten paces along the tunnel and Anomen and I are at each others throats.'

'The foul humours inspiring foul tempers, you mean? Well, I am _sure_ it cannot help,' the woman agreed tersely as she paused to free her staff from the sucking sludge at their knees. 'Though I think blaming it all on our location may be a touch _naïve_.'

Fritha glanced up, instantly catching the reference to her previous argument with the squire. She sighed deeply.

'Oh yes, is this where you agree with Anomen and tell me Renal isn't to be trusted?'

'No,' the druid continued evenly, 'but as I said to you before, you have made a dangerous ally in the thieves and there are some people who will condemn us by the association alone.'

Fritha frowned.  
'You mean people like Anomen. I know Renal's no saint but I can only judge him by how I find him, which has been so far favourable. I don't expect the rest of you to like him; I just don't know why Anomen's so bothered. Well, I know why he's _bothered_,' Fritha conceded at the druid's look, 'but if he was so against the idea of working with thieves, don't you think he'd have mentioned it when we first arranged the meeting with the guild?'

Jaheira shrugged.  
'Perhaps it is more your enthusiasm that annoys him.'

'You mean he doesn't mind working with thieves, he just minds that I don't mind working with thieves?'

The woman smirked slightly, her tone dry.  
'Ah, Fritha, yet again I am held in awe by your ability to simplify even the most complicated of issues.'

Fritha just stuck her tongue out and instantly regretted it, Jaheira laughing at her disgusted expression.

'Well, perhaps I can convince him I am just as enthused about working with saints as I am with sinners,' Fritha continued, turning to send the squire a dazzling smile, the woman at her side snorting with amusement as Anomen turned his head and pretended not to notice. Fritha laughed as well; ah, he'd come round.

'Er,' came Aerie's voice ahead of them, 'I think, I think we've found something…'

'No, no little Aerie, with confidence!' rumbled Minsc with a wide smile, 'we _have_ found something!'  
Indeed they had, and Fritha glanced up to see the elf stood, the glow of her staff illuminating a break in the tunnel wall, narrow stone stairs disappearing up into the darkness.

'Do you suppose this is the place?' ventured Aerie and Fritha shrugged, climbing up out of the sewage and onto the first step.

'Only one way to find out.'

And she led them up the stairs, Aerie at her back to light the way, until at last the shadows fell back to reveal a heavy wooden door.  
Fritha knocked. No one answered though and she called Nalia forward to unlock it, the girls flattening themselves to the stone walls to allow their friend to squeeze past them.

'There,' Nalia announced after a moment and Fritha lay a hand upon her sword hilt, instinctively stepping forward to enter first, the door swinging open with a faint groan to reveal a circular chamber of the same grey stone, lamps of pale blue magelight stood at intervals to lift the gloom. A row of four or five large wooden bookcases filled one half of the room, doors and hallways lining the wall of the other half, all leading off in different directions.

'Who in the name of Azuth are _you_?' demanded a nasal voice and Fritha glanced back to see a grey-haired old man in green robes appear at the end one of the bookcases, though her attention was immediately drawn to the younger male that followed him. He was short for a man, clad in trousers, shirt and short brown coat of good quality, long dusky hair tied back off his pale face.

There was no mistaking the style of dress and the slight aura of the unnatural that hung about him, and Fritha would have wagered her last copper piece that they had found their actor. He did not seem much of a prisoner though, just stood behind the mage unshackled and still armed, a pile of books balanced in his arms as he gazed back at them with an unfocused look, and she suspected magic was the only jailer here.

Fritha pulled her attention back to the man who she took to be Mekrath, taking another step forward to bow politely.

'Your pardon, sir, we knocked but there was no answer,' she explained and for lack of any other excuse, launched straight into her question. 'Ah, might I enquire as to who your, er, slave is?'

'My slave?' the mage repeated with a frown, glancing to the man behind him. 'Oh, him. I do not know his name, he is just some thief I found sneaking about where he shouldn't.' His eyes narrowed in contemplation. 'Rather like you are, now I come to think about it.'

'Ah, yes, well,' Fritha mumbled, continuing quickly before Mekrath decided to add another six slaves to his staff, 'we are mercenaries of a sort and I believe he is the person we have been sent to seek. Maybe you would be willing to trade for him; some work perhaps? Something in the city above even,' she added hopefully as the mage stroked his chin, considering her words.

'Well, an imp of mine has escaped recently, this very morning in fact and with a very precious casting mirror. The creature somehow broke its collar and flitted off into the sewers before I could capture it.'

Ah, back to the sewers. Fritha sighed. Well, it had been worth a try.

'The imp is of no importance,' continued Mekrath casually, 'kill it. But return the mirror to me and you shall have your slave.'  
Fritha nodded once, pleasantly surprised to find the mage was being reasonable about the whole thing.

'As you will, but finding a mirror in the miles of city sewers is not going to be easy; have you any idea where the imp would be heading?'

'No,' Mekrath replied, beginning to pat down his robes and cast about him, clearly looking for something, 'but the magic in the mirror is strong, if I just had a stick of some sort… ah-ha!'

'Hey!' Fritha cried as the mage moved with a speed that belied his age, taking a step closer and plucking out one of the two fat wooden pins that held her hair up, though Mekrath ignored her protest in favour of chanting a quick spell over it, the pin glowing blue a moment before it was inert once more.

'Give me your hand,' he ordered, not waiting for her to comply as he took her wrist and placed the stick into her open palm, the hairpin flicking back and forth a moment before settling on a north-easterly direction.

'There you are,' Mekrath announced with a hint pride, 'a compass. That should lead you straight to it, though be quick, the enchantment will not last more than a few hours.'

He shooed at them with one hand as though dismissing some persistent children.  
'Now go on, off you go.'

xxx

Anomen felt his jaw clench as he stepped back down into the watery black sludge, the others already before him, all in the tunnel and gathered about Fritha as the compass flicked back and forth deciding on their course.

The girl was smiling, seemingly pleased with her new plaything and he could not help but frown as he considered the immature way she delighted in such inconsequential things. Anomen felt his anger stir again as he recalled the way her eyes had shone as she'd recounted her meeting with the thief master. Going on about views and teacups and completely ignoring the fact the man was a dangerous criminal!

He was sure that Fritha was not corrupt herself, merely that she did not understand the evil of such alliances. But it was a worrying idea nevertheless, what she could lead them into with her blindness, whether intentional or not, to such immorality.

'There, I think it's decided,' came the girl's voice before him and he glanced up to find her looking round at the others. 'We can follow the tunnel this way and take the first left we reach.'

Anomen sighed deeply and they began to move off along the tunnel, sewage swirling about his calves. All this to retrieve a man that had found himself in trouble only because he had been attempting to steal from the mage; to be honest, Anomen thought the actor had got just what he deserved.

'And now we not only _work_ with thieves, but take our time to rescue them as well,' he muttered sullenly, not really expecting a reply and was surprised to hear Fritha's voice echoing back to him.

'You know, Imoen's a thief,' she said conversationally, her warm tone contrasting with the cold look she had turned to send him and instantly his stomach tightened. Behind her, he could see the druid smiling broadly, her face a eerie mask in the green glow of her werelight.

'I thought she was a mage?' he continued, affecting a nonchalant air and squaring up to her unblinking gaze, sincerely wishing he'd kept the comment to himself.

'She is both,' came the clipped reply, before the inevitable was spoken. 'Do you have a problem with rescuing _her_, I wonder.'

But he was given no chance to answer as the girl turned her attention back to her path, Jaheira falling into step next to her, their voices low. Aerie gave him a commiserating look, dropping back to walk with him and they travelled on in silence, Anomen's eyes fixed on the pair that still led the way, Minsc and Nalia not far behind them.

For almost an hour they walked, the compass leading them down tunnel after tunnel and Anomen was sure their target must be moving as well. But still there was no sign and the squire allowed his mind to wander as time went on, wondering what his friends were doing and how Simon would laugh if he could see him now, when a tentative cough broke the stillness and he glanced down to find Aerie watching him. He had almost forgotten she was there and raised an eyebrow, the girl swallowing nervously.

'Anomen,' she began slowly, her blue eyes holding an apprehension that was mirrored in her tone, 'I understand your objection to working with the thieves, but I- I don't think you have to, well, you don't have to mention it at _every_ instance.'

Anomen turned his attention aloofly back to the tunnel before them, embarrassed enough by his and Fritha's latest altercation without the elf's chiding.

'I believe I do; especially when the rest of you seem happy to ignore my objections. Fritha needs to know how I feel about such matters, that I will not be led down any morally tainted path whatever promises of glory lay at the end.'

He glanced again to the girl next to him, looking warm and fair in the pale yellow of her magelight.  
'You follow a good and righteous deity, Aerie; your heart is pure. Surely you cannot be glad of the fact we take orders from cutthroats and thieves.'

'I think "take orders" is a little strong, Anomen,' she said reproachfully before she sighed and he heard the disapproval in her voice. 'But no, I admit I do not like the idea that we are to work with the thieves.'

Anomen smiled, relieved he was not alone in his objection.  
'But I _do_ trust Fritha,' continued Aerie firmly, 'and she said she even told Renal we would not perform anything too dishonest.'

That was true enough, Anomen considered, glancing up to see the girl moving slowly along the tunnel at their head, her curls a murky brown in the green light of Jaheira's staff. But then such things tended to be rather subjective. They would probably find when it came down to it, that his and Fritha's opinions on what was _too_ dishonest differed as night and day.

He watched as Fritha reached a crossroad in the tunnel, holding a hand up to halt them, a finger to her lips and Anomen shook his head, dropping his voice as he continued to the elf at his side.

'Do not mistake me, Fritha is a worthy soul. But she is blinded by her desire to see the goodness in others, even when it is not there. And her desperation to find her friend is obvious; who knows what that _thief_ could convince her to do for that goal, now he has her trust.'

'Well, I suppose…' Aerie conceded slowly, turning to look ahead of them and Anomen followed her gaze to where Fritha had now flattened herself against the tunnel wall, the druid's werelight barely a flicker at the end of her staff as she stood with the others in the shadows behind her.

'There may well come a time, Aerie,' Anomen continued, glancing back to the girl, his voice low, 'when it will be up to us. The others will be no help; Nalia serves no god, Minsc would follow Fritha anywhere and the neutrality of Jaheira's faith makes her weak. It will be up to us to keep this group upon the moral path, for our sakes as well as theirs-'

An inhuman shriek cut him off and he drew his mace with a start, glancing up to see Fritha now stood in the middle of the tunnel, struggling to hold a small grey-skinned creature as it clawed and snapped at her, huge bat-like wings flapping madly all the while.

'Ca- calm down, will you! I'm not going to- Calm yourself!' she shouted, freeing a hand to catch up its wings as well and at last the creature seemed to stop struggling. 'There,' she sighed, relaxing slightly, 'now are you Mekrath's imp?'

'I am his no longer! I am free! I won't go back!' it cried, beginning to struggle again.

'You'll be going to the Fugue Plane if you don't stop thrashing about!' Fritha snapped, her patience finally exhausted it seemed, though her threat had the desire effect and the creature calmed again.

'Right,' the girl sighed, shaking the mess of curls from her eyes as she continued, 'let us make this simple. Mekrath does not want you back. He wants you dead. No, no, none of that,' she soothed, as the imp began to flap and whimper again, 'I said I would not harm you, but I do need the mirror you stole from him.'

'No!' it snapped defiantly, pressing the hand that held it closer to its chest, 'it's mine!'

'No, it is his,' Jaheira interjected firmly, 'and you leave us very little choice _but_ to kill you, if you refuse to surrender it.'

The imp sent them both a sullen glare, but at last drew the small clawed hand away from its chest and dropped something shiny into Fritha's waiting palm.

'There,' Fritha smiled kindly, gently releasing the creature and taking a step back. 'Now off you go and try to stay out of trouble.'

The imp said nothing, merely gave her a sulky look and flapped off down the tunnel. Fritha slipped the mirror into her pocket and moved her hands up to attempt to tidy and re-pin her hair as she turned back to them. She smiled, a faint tiredness creeping into her manner.

'Right, back we go.'

xxx

'Ah, it's cracked!' Mekrath cried, running his fingers lightly over the fractured surface of the mirror Fritha had just handed him, 'I hope you killed the creature for the affront!'

Fritha gave a vague shrug, but the mage was still too absorbed with his mirror to notice.

'Well, either way, I must get this fixed. I left the slave in the back,' Mekrath continued, gesturing absently to the hall behind them as he turned to open the door at his back, 'counting rice or some such nonsense. You can see yourselves out, I trust.'

And with that, he was gone. Fritha glanced to the group about her and shrugged, turning to follow the way he had pointed along the gloomy hallway, past openings to other rooms, all empty, when at last she reached a wooden door. There was nowhere to go now, the others crowded in the corridor behind her, and Fritha pushed the door open, slowly peering round to take in a dimly lit storeroom, their charge sat cross legged on the dusty floor, engrossed in counting rice grains from one sack to another.  
'Er, Haer'Dalis?'

The man stopped, slowly looking up to fix her with a near black gaze and Fritha offered him a slight smile.  
'Hello.'

Haer'Dalis frowned, the intense concentration making his temples throb as he focused on the tiny white grain in his palm, moving as though in a dream as he carefully placed it in to the sack at his side, his own voice echoing inside his skull.  
'_Four thousand, seven hundred and thirty ni-_'

A woman's voice sounded somewhere above him and he felt his head moving to the source, his vision clearing and he was suddenly looking up into a face of pale and youthful beauty, eyes as dark as his own staring back at him.  
Haer'Dalis felt a wariness rise within him; the mage had no servants that he knew of and this girl was armed; had Mekrath sold him already?

'My head clears, filled with stars and liquid fire and I see the new holder of my shackles. Are you here to claim this sparrow?' he demanded, his nerves making him terse. If the mage had sold him, he may never recover the jewel. 'To have me recount your deeds and sing your petty praises?'

The girl raised an eyebrow looking somewhat unimpressed.

'I am _here_ because your friend Raelis sent me,' she explained and in a tone that suggested she couldn't fathom why the woman would want to bother, 'but anymore of your lip and I'll return you to your stocktaking.'

She let her eyes fall pointedly to the grain sack at his side and he grinned, relief filling him. His mission may yet be saved.

'Hah, whoever you are, I like you!'

The girl smiled as well, her irritation short-lived it seemed, offering him a hand to haul him to his feet. Behind her, other figures were just visible crowded in the doorway, all silent and watchful. The tallest and what looked to be the eldest of those he could see stood at the back, tawny hair braided back off her angular face and eyes narrowed, while two younger girls were gathered before her; one human, flame-haired and freckled and one elf, blonde with eyes of such clear blue that even the gloom of the storeroom could not hide them.

Haer'Dalis glanced back to the girl at his side, amber curls swept up and pinned in a charmingly dishevelled manner, and felt his smile broaden for a moment as he considered the very favourable circumstance of being rescued by a group comprised entirely of eligible young women.

'Really, Fritha, are we to stand here all day?' came a deep and clearly impatient voice from somewhere behind them and Haer'Dalis sighed inwardly. Oh well, the fantasy had been pleasant while it lasted.

'Indeed, no,' the bard agreed brightly, stepping to the side slightly to get a view of the speaker further along the hall, his eyes taking in two men, one dark-haired and bearded and, he supposed, handsome in a very dull way. The other was far more interesting, quite the largest prime Haer'Dalis had ever seen, his bald head adorned with tattoos.

'Ah,' the bard cried dramatically, sweeping his hands wide in a gesture to include them all, 'this sparrow spies his glorious saviours and poetry overwhelms his heart! _In a blaze of trumpets with wicked blades held high, thus came ye fates of chaos to let this sparrow fly!_'

Silence followed. Both men were frowning, though one more with confusion than annoyance. Of the women, only the elf was smiling, seemingly impressed, the two red-haired girls joining her in the gesture though, much to his chagrin, they looked more like they were trying not to laugh, the tallest woman casting her gaze to the ceiling as though to entreat some divine mercy.  
Haer'Dalis frowned slightly; this group clearly needed educating in the finer subtleties of his art.

Fritha grinned into her sleeve; the look on Jaheira's face was payment enough for this jaunt.  
'Well,' she began, trying to keep the laughter from her voice, worried the silence was making their guest uncomfortable, 'as the mage said, we are showing ourselves out and I'd rather not tempt his temper by hanging around.'  
She gestured meaningfully to the hallway behind her and Haer'Dalis smiled, clearly ignoring her intimation.

'Indeed, my raven, so I shall make this quick. There is a vital gem nestled within the gloom of this place… in an altar, I believe. Mekrath took it from me and I must have it back.'

Anomen raised an incredulous eyebrow.  
'Truly? The mage seemed to think _you_ were stealing from _him_.'

'A fabrication, I assure you, my suspicious hounds,' Haer'Dalis reassured genially, as all eyes turned slowly to him, 'to justify his enslaving of this poor sparrow.'

Fritha sighed, not sure she wanted to risk trying Mekrath's patience whether this jewel was rightfully his or not.

'Look, I'm sure it's nothing worth upsetting a potentially dangerous mage over. Can't you just be satisfied with your freedom?' she reasoned, but Haer'Dalis just shook his head.

'I cannot leave my jewel,' he repeated, quiet but determined, letting his eyes linger on Aerie who blushed intensely and Fritha rolled her eyes.

'_Fine_.'

xxx

The altar the actor spoke of was found easily enough, Nalia taking only a moment to disarm the traps surrounding it, before the group left with some haste, Fritha wanting to put as much distance between them and the mage as possible. Once back in the sewers it was not long before Minsc led them to a suitable access grate, the group crawling one by one into a busy rundown street.

Fritha sighed, shielding her eyes from the glare of a late afternoon sun and trying to ignore the interest they were drawing from the locals as they stood waiting for Nalia to get her bearings, all tired and filth-caked for the second time in almost as many days. Fritha dropped her gaze to her legs, her trousers plastered unpleasantly to her knees, the smell making her feel sick. She _had_ to find them some better work.

'Do you know where we are yet, Nalia?' asked Jaheira behind her and Fritha glanced back to the thief, the girl still scanning the rooftops about them.

'Hmm… yes. Yes, you can just see one of the domes of the promenade. We must be in the south east of the slums. The Coronet should be a few streets over in that direction.'

'Of use to know, I'm sure, my raven,' interjected Haer'Dalis, with that manner that implied he found it anything but, 'but I must insist we make haste to the theatre.'

'You can insist what you please, but I fear _we_ are returning to our inn,' Fritha countered with a smile, leaving the fact they were all covered in sewage unspoken. 'You may join us or we will meet you tomorrow at the theatre. Your choice.'

The bard seemed to consider her offer a moment, eyes travelling slyly over the group around him, lingering slightly on the two girls before a smile was pulling at his mouth.

'It would seem ungrateful to leave a group when so indebted to them,' he began magnanimously, 'and I would not wish to rob you of the glory of my liberation; I shall come with you, my birds, and we may all return to Miss Raelis together on the morrow.'

Fritha nodded, sweeping an arm along the street.  
'Lead on then, Nalia.'

xxx

Fritha smiled, walking next to Jaheira as they made their way through the sunlit streets, Minsc and Anomen a pace or so behind them and the two girls leading the way with their new acquaintance, the man dividing his attentions between the pair and providing a steady stream of conversation as they went.

Fritha knew she should not stare, but he seemed _more_ than occupied by the attentions of the two girls, and she took the moment to consider him unobserved. He was narrow, and slight too, well compared with the other men she knew. His ears were slightly pointed like her own, the gold rings that adorned them catching in the sunlight, but despite all this he did not seem to be of elven blood.

Fritha watched him now, talking to Nalia their foreheads level, which would make him slightly taller than herself, an idea that pleased her in a way she could not understand.She had thought it just a trick of the light in Mekrath's house and was pleasantly surprised to find his hair was a dusky shade of blue upon their surfacing. His pale skin was almost sallow in the sunlight and it contrasted pleasantly with his hair, scars that looked more decorative than accidental marking his chin and cheeks, and merely enhancing the exotic air that he carried with him.

Fritha smiled as Aerie giggled lightly, her voice floating back to her on the warm afternoon air.  
'I like how you pretend we are all birds, Haer'Dalis'

'Pretend?' he exclaimed dramatically. 'Oh no, dear Aerie, it is no pretence, for we are all as frail as birds before the storm of the fates.' He sighed. 'Entropy, chaos, decay; these are the gifts we are left with when we finally slip between the fingers of this world as surely as the sands of time, my dove.'

Aerie looked deeply impressed. Nalia looked equally incredulous and Fritha snorted at her expression, hiding a laugh in a sneeze.

Nalia glanced back at the noise and rolled her eyes at her, the pair sharing a smile at their joke when the bard turned to catch them, glancing back as Nalia had to send Fritha a wide grin.

Fritha felt her smile broaden, a pleasant warmth rising in her stomach.

_Oh dear…_


	17. Three's company

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Three's company**

Anomen stood in the common room, looking through one of the Coronet's less grimy windows out onto the street where the shadows were lengthening under a sinking sun. Arriving back at the inn had been the same humiliating affair, the group forced to walk through the tavern, boots in hand as they headed for the stairs, Fritha quickly arranging a room for the actor before following them and everyone had hurried down to the bathhouse soon after, Haer'Dalis proving suddenly quiet without the presence of the woman.

They were gathered in the tavern now, the table at his side surrounded by all bar Fritha, who he had just watched disappear into the house opposite, a cloakful of dirty clothes in tow. Anomen sighed. She seemed to be pretending their previous arguments had not happened, treating him with the same genial good humour as she was the rest of them, and for his part, he was only happy to follow suit.

It was hard to stay angry with Fritha. However misguided her actions, she always seemed to hold the best of intentions, and her desire to see the goodness in others was as admirable as it was ill-advised.

Admirable. That was a term he certainly could _not_ use to describe their newest acquaintance. Quite apart from the fact that Haer'Dalis was treating the girls with a familiarity that bordered on impudence, something about the actor did not feel quite right. However, so far Anomen only seemed to have an ally in Jaheira in this opinion, the woman sat at the table now, frowning into her cup as the bard held court, Nalia smiling as he spoke, while Aerie seemed to hang on his every word.

Anomen glanced back to the window as a blur of copper caught his eye, Fritha appearing in the doorway opposite and speaking with someone still within. The girl nodded once, stepping out into the street to give a bow that soon became a duck, the bar of soap that came sailing out the open doorway just missing her head. The girl did not seem offended though, collecting it from the dusty street and throwing it and a casual salute lightly back to the stout apron-clad woman who was now stood into the doorway, the laundress shaking her head despairingly and clearly trying not to smile as she caught it.

Anomen turned back to face the room, fighting against a smile himself as Fritha appeared at the door, strolling blithely over to join them.

'All delivered?' asked Jaheira, glancing up from her cup and Fritha grinned.

'Yes, much to Goodwife Margred's delight. I can see us becoming her favourite customers.'

Nalia and Aerie laughed lightly and even the druid could not suppress a smile as Fritha sank into a chair next to her, and Anomen took the moment to sit as well.

'You put much work her way, my raven?' asked Haer'Dalis, looking slightly confused by the amusement of the others and Fritha shook her head.

'No, but looking for you is not the first visit we have made to the sewers recently and Margred has had the _pleasure _of washing our clothes after each. To be fair, I can imagine it _is_ quite a bother for her. She must have to wash them at least twice, and heat a lot more water than usual. Still, we surely pay for it,' she sighed, absently slipping her hand in her pocket and Anomen suspected she was counting on their payment tomorrow.

Silence hung over the table a moment, Aerie straightening in her chair and turning to their guest.  
'S-So, Haer'Dalis, where did you say you were from?'

'I did not, my dove, but to answer your question anyway, I am from ever-changing Hub of the Great Wheel.' He smiled at her confused expression. 'Though, I believe you primes know it best as Sigil.'

'The Cage,' said Fritha, her eyes wide.

'You have heard of it then, my raven? Yes, a few primes pass through the City of Doors on their way about the planes, and it is home to many humans as well as the usual mix of celestials, demons, elementals and, of course, my kind.'

'_Your _kind?' repeated Aerie.

'Yes, my dove, I am what is known as plane-touched.'

'You're a tiefling,' said Fritha before she could seem to stop herself and instantly went pink.

Haer'Dalis glanced to her, an eyebrow raised before slowly nodding.

'Yes, one does not necessarily mean the other, but yes, you have no doubt sensed it. My father was of the lower planes, a demon.'

A silence fell over the table, and Anomen watched as everyone seemed to glance warily back to him, as though waiting for him to leap from his chair with a shout of '_Back, fiend!_'

Anomen frowned.

'A man should not be judged on the bearing of his father, only on his own actions.'

Which, Anomen considered, had done little to give him a good opinion of the actor so far, but every man's mistakes should be his own. The table, though, seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief, everyone smiling and nodding, while Fritha sent Anomen the warmest of smiles.

Haer'Dalis watched as Fritha beamed across the table at the knightling, before glancing back to the girl at her side, thanking Nalia as she poured her some tea. This was an interesting group he had fallen in with, make no mistake, and it made for a pleasing distraction from the worries he had been facing lately. Especially its contingent of pretty young girls, he considered, as he watched the two red-heads talked quietly over their cups.

And then there was the elf too, Haer'Dalis mused, letting his eyes fall to the girl next to him. She had been fair in Mekrath's cell, but that was nothing when compared to seeing her in the sunlight, hair shining gold in its glow, her eyes clearer than the waters Oceanus; he had met aasimar who had made less of an impression. She glanced up to catch him watching and smiled even as she blushed deeply.

The primes were a strange lot. It had taken him years to learn to read them, their actions often contradictory to what they said or even believed.

Haer'Dalis smiled back, feeling the weight of the gem they had retrieved from Mekrath in his pocket. Perhaps he should have returned to the theatre straight away, this delay could be leaving the others in danger and the unfamiliar sensation of guilt rose along his spine, though he quelled it quickly. If the bounty hunters were that close then there was little hope for them anyway, and oblivion came to all things; if this was their time, then so be it.

Haer'Dalis leant back in his chair, laughing along with the rest of them at something Fritha had said, though he had not heard what it was, his mind caught up wondering about how the troupe had faired in his absence. Would Raelis have been worrying about him?  
She _had_ sent this group to find him, after all, he reasoned hopefully, but Haer'Dalis knew that meant nothing.

He hid a sigh in a slight yawn; the actress had made her feelings more than plain months ago, she had never seen him as anything more than a companion and fellow actor. Raelis had always been kind to him, of course, even after he had told her of his feelings; the unflustered way she could still be around him after he had unburdened his heart to her making him feel all the worse.

Haer'Dalis glanced back to the group about him, the maid arriving to set dishes on the table before them, everyone chattering genially as they handed about plates and served each other food. He would be leaving this plane soon and likely for a while, though whether he found the idea pleasing or not, he couldn't quite decide.

'So, Haer'Dalis,' Fritha continued mildly as Aerie handed him a plate and he served himself some rice, 'is Raelis a tiefling as well?'  
Haer'Dalis glanced up sharply; this girl certainly seemed more perceptive than the usually clueless primes.

'Well, yes,' he confessed, 'you sensed it in her?'

Fritha shrugged.  
'Not as such,' she began slowly, a frown furrowing her brow as she tried to explain herself, 'it's just nature here, on the Prime Material, I mean. Well, nature here it goes.'

'Goes?'

'Like the colours you find together in nature here, well they always suit each other. However odd the combination, they never clash. Like the fierce orange and vivid pink of a sunset, you wouldn't think they'd go together, but they do. But Raelis…' Fritha continued, her eyes distant as she clearly recalled the woman, and Haer'Dalis let his mind bring back the image of his glorious phoenix as the girl spoke. 'She doesn't go. I mean, she is very fair, but her skin is too pale or her hair is too bright or, or I don't know. Something is just a little off…'

'Am I the same?' he asked with genuine curiosity.

'Oh, no,' she continued with a smile, 'I mean blue hair is unusual for people here, to say the least, but it doesn't mean it does not suit you. I mean, you know, it goes…' The girl trailed off, going pink and Haer'Dalis watched her dip her face to her dish. Fritha was clearly sensitive to, or at least very observant of, the world around her.

'What is Sigil like?' asked the elf at his side before he could dwell on this and Haer'Dalis smiled broadly, recalling his home.

'Ah, the City of Doors, my dove, there is nowhere else like it on the planes. An ever-changing anthill where even the streets do not stay the same for long and portals lead off to all corners of the planes, the keys to which could be an object or a phrase or even a tune in your head, all gathered at the top of a spire on the hub of the Great Wheel. And just where it belongs; the true bright centre of multiverse.'

'I cannot imagine the greatest place in all planes is a _city_,' commented the druid sharply and everyone seemed to share a smile, Haer'Dalis swallowing his irritation and continuing as though she had not spoken.

'Within the city, factions plot and fight, all kept in check by the ruler of Sigil, the Lady of Pain, whose shadow hides a grim death.'

'Which faction do you belong to?' Aerie asked, the quiet awe in voice rather satisfying and he smiled.

'Why the only one that makes sense, my dove! I am a member of the Doomguard. We understand that the multiverse is continually unravelling and since it is unpreventable, we do only what can be done and revel in its slow decay.'

'That's horrible!' cried the elf and Haer'Dalis shrugged.

'Is it so terrible a thing to believe, my dove? If you do not like it, there are other factions to choose from. The Fated hold that if they have something, it belongs to them and the Dustmen believe we are all dead already. And-' he added with a grin, 'I imagine the knightling here would make quite the factotum in the Mercykillers.'

Anomen scowled at him, but said nothing as he continued.

'Ah, Sigil is a city for the peery; the Clueless lasting little more than the time it takes the ink to dry when they're penned in the dead-book, falling as easy prey to more experienced cutters. Yes, life is a wonderful cacophonous medley in the Birdcage.'  
'And that makes us the birds, does it?' Fritha laughed. 'Fair enough, and dove I can understand, but _raven_?'

Haer'Dalis smiled. The title had come to him the instant he had stared up at those polished black eyes in the gloom of Mekrath's storeroom, though he had noticed upon their surfacing that it was not as appropriate as he had first thought, the girl's eyes merely a very dark shade of brown.

'Alas, my raven, perhaps not such an accurate description of you, but it is a rare bird that has such plumage,' he admitted, nodding slightly to her head of amber curls. 'But give me an excuse and I shall gladly re-title you as _lark_.'

Both Aerie and Fritha coloured at this, the latter shaking her head as she answered hastily.  
'No, no, raven is fine, but why are you sparrow?'

'Yes,' agreed Jaheira mildly, 'crow would seem more appropriate the amount of it you do.'

'J-Jaheira!' cried Aerie at his side, while the rest of them dissolved into laughter.

'Really, my raven!' Haer'Dalis complained, the girl hardly able to answer him for laughing. It was bad enough the druid kept disrupting his performance, without her encouraging the woman.

'Oh, no, no,' the girl cried, holding her hands up before her, 'leave me out of this. You may have met your match in Jaheira, bard. As the sages say, he who lives by the sword…'

'Oh, a proverb, my raven?' he smiled, ready to get his own back, 'borrowing another's wit for your own wisdom?'

But the girl just gave another bark of laughter.

'Why not, for I've lent enough of mine out over the years. And I'd watch that sour tone of yours,' she smiled, pointedly spooning up some rice from her dish, 'you'll give yourself indigestion.'

Haer'Dalis laughed along with the others, feeling oddly warmed; he was leaving soon, that much was true, but that did not mean he couldn't enjoy the time he had there.

xxx

And the rest of the afternoon passed by similarly, the actor entertaining them all with stories of the planes and the productions his troupe had performed and for whom, Jaheira and he occasionally sharing crossed words, though they all ended amicably enough, laughter regularly peeling out from the table and Fritha was given the impression the pair were rather enjoying their verbal sparring.

Fritha leant back in her chair watching one of the maids slowly moving about the tavern lighting the lamps, the combination of wine and laughter leaving her feeling slightly giddy.

'Well,' Nalia began next to her, finishing her drink and rising from the table with a sigh, 'I believe we should probably retire if we are to do your embroidery as agreed. Any more wine and I shall not be able to sew straight.'

Fritha sighed too, recalling Nalia's offer of help to embroider her tunic. The three girls had arranged to make a start that night, Nalia helping Fritha brush up her technique and the pair using the opportunity to teach Aerie the basics. Fritha glanced across the table to where Haer'Dalis was sat now talking with Minsc, looking bright and exotic under the glow of the lamps.

Still, a promise was a promise and Nalia really _was_ doing her a favour offering to help. Besides, she considered practically as she eyed her empty cup, she didn't want a headache tomorrow. Fritha sent Nalia a smile and rose as well, the girl nodding once and turning her gaze expectantly to Aerie who seemed not to notice.

'Aren't you coming too, Aerie?' Nalia finally prompted when the elf made no move, Aerie glancing distractedly up at her name.

'Sorry? Oh, no I don't really…'

Nalia frowned slightly, though she seemed more confused than cross.  
'But I thought you were interested in learning to embroider?'

Aerie glanced quickly to the man next to her and back to them, and Fritha could not be sure, but her cheeks seemed pinker.

'Yes, yes I am…' the elf reassured her, looking a touch guilty as she continued, 'b-but, you'll be able to work a lot quicker without me and, and there will be other times, won't there?'

Nalia looked hurt, but her voice remained free of an injured tone.  
'Yes, of course. Goodnight.'

And without another word, the noblewoman turned, moving swiftly through the press of tables and Fritha followed her, not breaking the silence until they were both in her room, Nalia starting as soon as the door was shut.

'And what was _that_ all about?'

Fritha sighed, sinking gingerly onto the edge of the bed.  
'Now Nalia, dearest, don't take it personally, Aerie just,'

'Aerie just spurned our company to spend the evening with that- that _actor_! We are her friends. She has only just met _him_. This past tenday Aerie has sought my company every evening, but it seems I am to be replaced at the first opportunity.'

Fritha smiled sympathetically, trying to hold back the grin as she recalled her own outrage when Imoen had behaved similarly back in the Gate. Still, Nalia did seem to be taking the whole thing rather to heart; she had not realised they had grown so close.

'Come now,' Fritha soothed, patting her arm as the girl sank down next to her, 'it was just a plan to gather in your room and sew. Nothing was set in stone.'

Nalia just shook her head, all her anger suddenly gone. 'I do not understand it.'

Fritha frowned. She felt she did, as she considered the way the elf had been watching their guest, though she would have rather not.

'Well,' she continued reasonably, letting her mind drift back to the tavern, the soft glow of the lamps illuminating the bright eyed man now opposite her. 'You can't deny Haer'Dalis is striking to look at and very entertaining, and there is something more than that as well… a certain life to him…'

Fritha awoke to find Nalia watching her with a measured look.

'Fritha, do you like him too?'

Fritha snorted with derision, her stomach lurching.  
'_No_, of course not.'

Nalia didn't look particularly convinced and Fritha didn't blame her, not when she could already feel her face glowing. But to her credit, Nalia pressed her no more on the subject, the two settling down on the girl's bed, lain shoulder to shoulder upon their stomachs with the tunic spread between them. Fritha had already taken the opportunity to sew closed the tears the previous evening and they began the embroidering straight away, Nalia producing a coiled length of dark indigo silk from her bag and demonstrating the first few knots before Fritha tried her hand.

And they spent the rest of the evening together, Fritha working on the tunic's back while Nalia's more skilled hands embroidered the front, the pair chattering as they went and laughingwhen they occasionally caught each others threads. Fritha did not usually feel comfortable talking of Candlekeep, but things were different with Nalia.

The girl's talk of St Hilaria's had awoken a sense of camaraderie in Fritha, the feeling they had had similar upbringings making her past easier to discuss. Fritha knowing she could talk of the difficulties and the joys of growing-up in a very adult and academic environment with a loving but distant father without having to worry about explaining herself, and she found they had much in common.

'There,' announced Nalia proudly, cutting the final thread and sitting to hold the tunic up before her. 'I think the effect is very pleasing.'

Fritha smiled and nodded, sitting as well to run her fingers over the smooth silk ridges of the waves they had fanned between the tears.

'Yes, thanks for your help. I might unpick the first few I did and sew them again,' she said as she considered the lumpy uneven curve of her first-try, 'but all in all, I think it looks really nice.'

Nalia smiled and the mischievous look was back in her eyes.  
'Yes,' she agreed mildly, 'perhaps you could wear it when we return to the theatre tomorrow.'

Fritha pulled a face as the girl next to her laughed gently into her sleeve.  
'Oh, ha ha, _hilarious_. Goodnight dearest.'

'Goodnight Fritha.'

xxx

Fritha sighed, moving into her room and laying the newly embroidered tunic neatly over the end of her bed. She had hardly thought of it whilst sewing with Nalia, the warm easy chatter leaving no dark corner for her worries to fester in. But now, in the silence of her room…

She moved listlessly to the window, the sky still yellow on the western horizon, deepening across the arc of the heavens to a faded blue-grey, and she could not help but notice how the shade was an exact match of his hair.

Fritha sighed again. That afternoon in the tavern had been one of the nicest she had spent since she arrived in Athkatla, the stories and laughter that the actor supplied leaving her heart light. There was no getting away from it; she found Haer'Dalis very interesting and, she considered as she recalled Aerie's earnest look, she was not the only one.

A sudden surge of frustration filled her. Why did everything have to be so complicated? It was hard enough working out the depth and sincerity of her own feelings without bringing someone else's into the equation.  
_You haven't time for this!_

That was true enough. She had enough fun worrying about Imoen and money and work and well, everything, without having to start worrying about how her hair looked as well. And, she considered, her own words spurring her on, he was returning to the theatre the next day, so what she or he or even _Aerie_ thought about the whole thing was irrelevant.  
_You could always visit him there_, her mind proffered slyly  
_Just whose side are you on?_

No, no, Fritha continued resolutely, turning from the window to rest her back against the wall, her bed standing large and empty before her. Best just to forget about the whole thing.

But this decision left her feeling more drained than comforted, and she sighed, letting her legs buckle beneath her and sliding down the wall to settle on the floor next to the bed, the gap just wide enough if she bent her knees. She felt small and hidden and comforted by the familiarity of it. It was something she would do in Candlekeep when the world outside became too fraught, just push her bed out from the wall and sit behind it. Slowly she shifted, lay down and closed her eyes.

xxx

Fritha awoke to darkness, sitting quickly to crack her head on something and it was only then she recalled where she was and slowly eased herself out from under the bed. A waning half-moon was pouring light through the open curtains and her limbs cracked unpleasantly as she rose, no better for their rest on the floorboards. She absently promised them a trip to the bathhouse in the morning as she crossed to the window looking out on the darkened street. Not even the drunks were about; she must have slept for hours.

Fritha sighed. They would have to look for more work in the morning; she should really get some proper rest. But her mind was no longer tired and the dust of the floor had left her thirsty, the idea of easing herself back into sleep with some wine sitting well with her and, taking just a moment to re-pin her hair, she was clattering downstairs to the tavern.

The common room was practically empty at that hour, just a few patrons scattered about the room, all hunched over their drinks and paying little mind to anything else, while a lone barman dozed behind the counter. He straightened as she approached though, bidding her to take a seat as he disappeared into the back room for her wine. Fritha turned to move through the jumble of tables, heading for one nearer the window, when a hand caught her sleeve as she passed and, to her shame, she couldn't quite manage to stifle a cry of surprise.

'Oh, your pardon, my lady, I did not mean to startle you,' came a familiar voice and Fritha glanced down to find Anomen sat at the table beside her, a half-drunk mug of ale in his hand and another two empty ones already on the table, and she suspected if it had not been for them he would not have been so _bold _asto grab her to start with.

'You cannot sleep either?' he confirmed as she sank into the chair opposite and she shrugged.

'I _was_ asleep -I woke up,' she added unnecessarily and Anomen merely nodded.

'You and Nalia retired early.'

'We were embroidering.'

'A pity,' he commented impassively, his voice devoid of any of the warmth his words would have suggested as he continued. 'The evening was an entertaining one; this new acquaintance of ours certainly has a store of anecdotes,' he paused to catch her eye, and Fritha could have sworn she saw his lips twitching. 'I do not believe he stopped to draw breath for the entire evening.'

Fritha shared his smile. So, Anomen did not entirely approve of their flamboyant guest; well, there was a surprise. Still, at least he had seemed to keep the fact to himself before the actor.

'He spoke much after we left, did he?' she asked nonchalantly, interested despite what she had been telling herself but hours earlier.

Anomen nodded, taking another mouthful of ale.  
'Indeed he did, though his conversation was rather more… focused from that point on. He and Aerie seemed to build quite a rapport.'

Fritha felt an unpleasant heat in her stomach. Was it just her, or was Anomen watching her more intently than usual?  
_Or perhaps it's just you have something to hide…  
_  
Fritha swallowed the sudden dryness to her throat and smiled.

'Good, I'm glad. I would want our guest to feel welcome. You know,' she continued, as much to draw the attention from herself as to commend him, 'I think you helped with that, as well… saying no one should be judged by their fathers; I'm sure Haer'Dalis appreciated it.'

Anomen raised an eyebrow before turning back to his drink with a frown.  
'Perhaps so, though it did me no favours.'

Fritha sent him a confused look and he seemed set to explain when the barman appeared at her shoulder, and a silence fell over the table as the man poured her wine, the girl thanking him, and no one spoke again until he had returned to the bar. Anomen finished his current mouthful, and shook his head.

'I do not usually think on my past for there is much that is best left forgotten, but tonight.' He sighed deeply, eyes trained upon his tankard. 'Tonight, I can not sleep for remembering.'

He paused and silence hung between them again, when suddenly he gave a growl of frustration, slamming his drink down upon the table with a ferocity that startled her.

'The merest _thought_ of my father and I am ill at ease; the man hangs upon my life like a disease!

'Anomen, calm yourself,' she soothed as the barman sent their table a worried glance. Anomen shook his head, though he lowered his voice once more as he continued.

'You do not understand. I told you before how he refused to sponsor my training within the Order, but it that is just one of many times he has stood in my way, trying to exert his control over me just as he did the rest of his life. _Lord_ Cor,' he spat with clear disdain as though he could not think of a less fitting title for the man, 'the man is nothing but a drunk and a tyrant, seeing everything in terms of the money it can fetch, the influence it can effect; the family were but possessions to him. I left for the seminary at the age of thirteen, but even now I am not free of him! How can I be when Moira lives with him still.'

Fritha heard herself gasp.  
'Your sister still lives with him?'

Anomen sighed, suddenly weary.  
'Yes, Moira refuses to leave him alone in the house. When our mother fell sick and died in my nineteenth year, my father's drinking became worse. I wanted to leave the seminary, not wanting to abandon my sister alone with only the servants for company. But she would not hear of me leaving the priesthood, and refused to desert our father. She believes it is her duty to protect him, even when the problem is of his own making. She is so headstrong and stubborn, but young as well and her determination hides a tender heart. I can only hope he does not treat her too harshly…'

Fritha hid her pained frown in her wine cup, a deep sense of sympathy rising within her. She understood the misery of having one you cared about at another's mercies. The worry and pain it caused you; in the end she often felt it would be a _relief_ to swap places and take on their suffering.

'My only solace is that she was always his favourite; I was too wilful for him, refusing to observe my filial duty as he deemed it, and jump to my father's demands. He hated the idea of me joining the Order, wanted me to follow him into the family mercantile business and when I refused him, he refused to sponsor me as a knight.'

Anomen smiled ruefully. 'I don't think he ever forgave my mother for arranging my admittance through the priesthood. But still he stood in my way when ever he'd the chance; always telling me what a worthless son I was, how the Order would never accept me. But he was wrong and the day did come when I was to be squired.'

He smiled faintly, his eyes distant.  
'I remember it so clearly; the pride I felt as I knelt in the great hall with the others who were being accepted that day, the prelate stood before us, paladins and knights lining the walls, all watching.' Anomen's face darkened and Fritha felt her stomach clench.  
'And then _he_ appeared. My father, filthy drunk and full of rage, stood at the back of the hall screaming about how I had dishonoured the family. He had to be forcibly removed in the end.'

Anomen shook his head, all the anger suddenly gone as his shoulders slumped. 'I was so ashamed.'

Fritha said nothing; there was really nothing she _could_ say, but he did not seem to need any reply, just speaking his thoughts to someone a help.

'But that was four years go now. Four years,' he sighed dispiritedly, taking another mouthful of ale, 'and it feels as though I have hardly made any progress since then. I know what my superiors say is true; many within the Order have been training for knighthood since their early teens, I should be more patient. And I could, if it was guaranteed but,' he turned his pale blue gaze upon her, his frustration evident. 'But it is not and I just cannot stand the idea of failing and proving my father right!'

'Why did you want to join the Order?' Fritha asked, hoping to recall to him some happier remembrances and she was rewarded with a fond, if absent smile.

'Some of my earliest memories are of my mother telling me about the history of our family, of our ancestors and what they did for the honour of our house. But my favourite were always the tales of her grandfather, my great-grandfather, Lord Iorwerth. He was a noble man, a paladin of Tyr, who travelled Amn in his youth doing great works and helping others. My shield actually belonged to him, brought from my mother's household as part of her dowry and for as long as I can remember I wanted nothing more than to take it up as Iorwerth had, to become a paladin and serve my god and my fellow citizens with strength of arms.'

Anomen shook his head, his smile fading.  
'But, it was not meant to be… at least not so simply. I am no paladin, and though a knighthood is not without my grasp, it has been a hard path. I often think of the kindness shown to me, firstly by Sir Ryan Trawl in agreeing to accept me from temple service, and then by Sir Blethyn, the knight who had me squired. If it were not for them, I would not be where I am now and I find my mind dwells upon others who may have found themselves in similar situations, but not have been so blessed. Some provision should be set up within the Order, some way of sponsoring those who come with the same thirst to serve, but without the funds for their training.'

Anomen sighed, a faint smile pulling at his mouth.  
'Ah, listen to me, making plans for an Order I have not even been allowed to join yet. You must think me very foolish.'

Fritha smiled warmly. She _actually_ thought it was one of the nicest things she had ever heard Anomen say.  
'Not at all,' she answered with conviction, 'such thoughts do you credit. Though,' she continued gently, 'I don't think it can be very healthy to dwell on things like this. You cannot change your father's past behaviour, only how you allow it to affect you.'

She sent him what she hoped was a heartening smile, but the man just sighed again, nodding absently as he went back to his drink. Fritha watched him a moment, his gaze trained on the scratched pitted surface of the table when he suddenly looked up, staring back at her as though seeing her for the first time since she'd arrived.

'Oh, forgive me, my lady,' he sighed, clearly pained, 'you must think me quite selfish, sat here all this time complaining about my own father when yours is…'

He trailed off and she watched him a moment, puzzled, and when his inference finally dawned on her she almost laughed.

'Passed on? Anomen, I'm not so naïve to think that having an unpleasant father is in any way better than not having one at all.'

He considered her thoughtfully a moment.  
'I had heard you were an orphan… Did you find it difficult, not having parents when you were younger?'

Fritha shrugged mildly.  
'Not particularly. For as long as I can remember there was Gorion. I always knew I was not his, I even remember the day I arrived at Candlekeep, but before that…'  
She shook her head, before brightening, her memories warming her.

'So, it wasn't so bad. Imoen didn't have any parents either and we would while away hours together, making up fantastical pasts for them. _My_ mother was a dancer in the elven court of Evereska and my father was a Purple Dragon Knight from Cormyr.'

She laughed, clasping her hands together, pretending to swoon at the romance of it all, and even Anomen managed a smile.

'Of course, Gorion explained later the flaw in my little plan, in that my mother had been a half-elven lady from the court of Ashabenford, but still, it had been fun. I can't think what Imoen's mother had been. I remember her father was a Calimshite rogue who sailed the Lantan run, something we both knew, even at that tender age, was unlikely; she has green eyes and her natural hair colour is light brown. But, we never were ones to let the facts get in the way of a good story.'

She glanced back to find Anomen watching her with an unreadable look.  
'You miss her, don't you?'

'Yes. Very much,' she said simply.

'We will find her, my lady.'

She shrugged, dropping her gaze back to her drink. Besides, Imoen was in an asylum. Somewhere they would look after her, care for her, and whether that was true, that is what she believed, _had_ to believe. Because if not, it was like being back on the ship to Balduran's Isle, the storm screaming all about them and that awful panicked helplessness writhing within her. And in that state, Fritha would be neither use nor ornament.

Well, perhaps ornament, she considered, the image of her head mounted in some baronial hall appearing in her mind, dead glass eyes staring out at the world while the nobles beneath commented on her ferocious look and glossy coat.

'My lady?'

She glanced up to find Anomen staring at her, the familiar concern for her mental stability clear in his eyes.

'I'm sorry, my mind was dwelling on Imoen.'

'She is not irretrievable,' he assured, still a hint of the wary to his look.

'No, she is not,' Fritha agreed and as awful as it felt, she wondered for a moment if things would not have been easier if she was. If she had just died as the others had. It was so horrible to imagine her far away facing things alone…

And all the responsibility to find Imoen lay with her. If they failed, it would be all her fault and as time went on, Fritha's thoughts seemed to dwell upon the idea more and more. She lay awake sometimes, the whole world reduced to her darkened bed, the knowledge of it pressing in on her until she found it hard to breath.

'My lady?'

'Yes?' she started, wincing as her voice came shrill and slightly hysterical.

He was looking disturbed again and she toyed with the idea of telling him her thoughts, if only to gain some reassurance. But Anomen did not welcome such confidences and at last she shook her head, rising from her chair with cup in hand.  
'I'm tired, I think I'll go back to my room.'

He said nothing, merely nodded and she left to return to that wide dark bed and lie awake till morning.


	18. A problem shared

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**A problem shared**

Fritha pulled her door closed and locked it, the hallway behind her busy with other guests as they too left their rooms to head down to the tavern for breakfast, all wishing each other a good morning as they passed.  
Well, it was _morning_, Fritha conceded sullenly, though she was finding it difficult to see anything good about it so far, another restless night leading unfailingly into another hot day in the City of Coin.  
_You'll feel better with some tea_, her mind soothed and she nodded absently to herself, shouldering her bag with a sigh.

'Ah, Fritha,' came a familiar voice and she glanced up to see Jaheira climb the last few stairs and move along the hall to join her, a frown already furrowing her brow. 'Everyone is downstairs waiting for you and I warn you now, all is not well.'

'What's happened?' Fritha asked, feeling suddenly sick with worry as she recalled Anomen's angry melancholy the previous evening.

Jaheira sighed.  
'Nalia and Aerie appear to have had words and are now not speaking. Normally something I would consider a blessing, but the actor is _more_ than filling the silence.'

Fritha felt the knot in her stomach loosen, though not completely, conflict of any sort leaving her on edge.  
'Aerie and Nalia? What have _they_ been quarrelling about?'

The woman shrugged, though Fritha suspected she knew more than her indifference suggested.  
'I do not know for certain. They merely returned from the bar with the morning tea and a pointed air of silence about them, though at a guess I would say the cause was the way Aerie instantly began to ignore Nalia once Haer'Dalis arrived at the table.'

Jaheira paused to send Fritha a measured look as though expecting her to protest as she continued. 'His presence upsets the balance of this group, whether he means it or not. The sooner we deliver him, the better.'

Fritha quelled the slight jealousy that had stirred at Jaheira's mention of Aerie and the actor and nodded. If this was the effect he was having on them, Fritha could do nothing but wholeheartedly agree with the woman.

'Right,' she began with conviction, scrubbing a hand over her face, 'well, we'll head over to the playhouse first of all and then we had best look for some more work. We can split up, ask about in the promenade, visit the local temples and take a look at the bounty notices in the Council Buildings.'

Jaheira nodded, seemingly pleased they were in agreement on the matter.  
'A sound plan. I believe everyone is ready to leave when you are.'

Fritha shrugged, her tiredness and the morning's latest worries leaving her feeling queasy; she was in no mood for breakfast now  
anyway.  
'In that case, we can set out straight away.'

Jaheira frowned, but more with concern than annoyance, peering at her face sternly.  
'You should eat something first. You look pale.'

'I always look pale,' Fritha dismissed distractedly, pushing her door key into her bag. Jaheira raised an eyebrow.

'Yes, but you do not usually resemble a day-old corpse.'

Fritha sighed tiredly, the druid's characteristic terseness doing nothing for her humour.  
'I'll get something later.'

Jaheira sighed as well, throwing up her hands in defeat.  
'_Fine_. You'll never be told, will you.'

xxx

Fritha pushed her way gently past a group of gossiping women, their children playing about their legs, Nalia next to her as they walked along the busy stall-lined street that made up the Bridge district. Fritha winced slightly, her stomach growling loud enough for her friend to notice; she was beginning to wish she had listened to Jaheira after all. She sent Nalia a rather embarrassed smile, the girl returning it half-heartedly before turning her attention back to their path.

Haer'Dalis was leading the way with Aerie, though he was much more subdued than she had known him to be, barely sparing the elf a glance as they walked. He was wearing his hair differently that morning, parted in the middle and gathered to hang over each shoulder and he had seemed to take a subtle care over his appearance too, as though wanting the same effect without any noticeable effort on his part. Though, Fritha considered, it just could just be how he usually presented himself; she had only met him the previous day and if she could believe such vanity of anyone, it would be the actor.

He had reached the door of the Five Flagons by now, pushing it open and remembering himself enough to hold open it for the elf behind him, Fritha following the pair into the relative gloom of the tavern and downstairs to the theatre. The room was just as she remembered, the actors gathered on the stage talking quietly as they had before, one of them glancing up at their arrival.  
'I'm sorry, the play has been- Haer'Dalis!'

The actors all looked up at once, shouts and laughter ringing about the room as Haer'Dalis walked up the aisle to stand before the stage, Fritha and the others following suit a pace or two behind.  
'Everyone, sparrow's returned!'

'Ha! Did you doubt it?'

'Well, look who found his way back!'

'And the errant actor doth return!' laughed a voice rich with accent and Fritha watched as Raelis walked onto the stage from the wings dressed in robes of intense violet. Haer'Dalis's face instantly seemed to light from within and the girl felt a wry half-smile pulling at her mouth, her worries of the previous evening suddenly rather redundant.  
Well that's what you got for investing any notions in charming capricious sorts; lesson learnt.  
Fritha turned to send a smile to Aerie, but the girl was too busy scowling at the woman to notice.

'And Fritha,' Raelis continued brightly, pulling her attention from the bard to throw her a small leather purse. 'You have brought joy to this dark house, and I am grateful for it.'

Fritha nodded her thanks as she pocketed the money and the actress turned immediately back to Haer'Dalis.  
'Have you the gem, my sparrow?'

The bard's smile seemed to flicker a moment but he nodded all the same, drawing the blue misshapen stone from his jacket.  
'I have it here, Miss Raelis.'

He tossed it lightly up to her, the woman catching it easily.

'Ah, Mekrath's prize,' she trilled, hands moving over it hungrily, and Fritha felt her stomach jolt. _Mekrath's_?

'Haer'Dalis,' Raelis continued absently, eyes still fixed on the gem, 'tell them the truth of what we are about while I prepare the summoning of the conduit.'

Haer'Dalis nodded again, but the woman had already turned, moving to the other end of the stage to where the rest of the troupe had gathered before a painted wooden arch that stood as part of the set. Raelis dropped to her knees before it, arms aloft as she began to chant and Haer'Dalis turned to them with only the slightest of sighs, a smile pulling at his mouth.  
'Ah, my birds, there is a tale between us which is long overdue.'

Fritha sent him a measured look.  
'Mekrath's prize; it was his all along, wasn't it. You lied to us.'

Haer'Dalis's smile faded, though he made no attempt to deny it, which, she reflected, was possibly very sensible since she could already imagine Anomen's disapproval and at her side, Jaheira looked _severely_ unimpressed.  
The actor swallowed dryly and nodded once.

'Indeed, my raven, but it was a necessary deception, I fear. Our troupe is in danger. One does not satirise Duke Rowan Darkwood, factol of the Fated lightly. A single play has left us all with a bounty on our heads and we are being hunted across the planes. A wretched cambion has tracked us to the Prime Material and his bounty hunters search for us even as we speak.'

'B-But what has this to do with the jewel?' came Aerie behind her and the actor seem to recover himself slightly, his voice full of its usual animation as he answered her.

'Ah, my dove, the jewel is no mere bauble, but a planar gem! A nexus between here and the Astral plane, and with it we can make our escape! When we learnt Mekrath had one we tried to trade for it, but he refused to see reason and that was when I was sent to steal it. He captured me and the rest, as they say, is history.'

He returned his gaze to Fritha, his voice taking on a pleading tone she had never heard before.

'I understand I lied, my raven, but I could not risk you taking me from the mage without it.'

Fritha looked at him, through him, back to all the times she had lied when the situation demanded it, and many times it had not…  
_There's a special place in Hell for hypocrites_, laughed Beth behind her eyes and Fritha nodded.

'You did what you needed to,' she said, trying to return the smile he sent her, though it felt unpleasantly false and she gave up as soon as he turned back to Raelis, his eyes shining as he watched the woman swaying back and forth, her arms making complicated patterns in the air.

'Raelis is summoning a young conduit, whipping snake-like tubes that writhe within the Astral plane, their heads and tales clinging to different parts of the multiverse.'

'So...' came Aerie again, and Fritha glanced back to find her looking a touch forlorn, 'so you don't even know where you're going?'  
Haer'Dalis gave a broad smile, clearly thinking this was all part of the thrill.

'No, indeed, my dove, but the play must go on!'

'I beg to disagree.'

Fritha whirled back with the others to see a group of armed men headed by a yellow-skinned yuan-ti appearing from a portal that had suddenly opened in the archway before the troupe; it seemed the cambion's bounty hunters had finally caught up with them.  
The yuan-ti shook his head and Fritha could have sworn he was smiling, his black tongue flicking from his mouth and constantly scenting the air as he continued, his smooth voice almost singsong.

'Ah, Raelis and the infamous Sigil Troupe. You really ought not have performed that play, you know.'

'We did not know what it was about,' Raelis cried, making to stand and stumbling over her own robes in her haste, 'we never even met the writer!'

'Enough,' the yuan-ti dismissed, casually raising an arm to silence her, 'Duke Darkwood does not care for your excuses and neither does my master. You may reflect on your folly as you await the Duke in your cells. Already I have your souls attuned. Let it begin!'

A sudden jolt seemed to run through Haer'Dalis, the rest of the troupe already fading before the portal and Fritha had lunged forward before she could stop herself, instinctively grabbing his hand for all the good it should have done. A fierce shock flared through her as soon as they touched and she could feel the energies boiling inside her, unable to release him now even if she had wanted too, the pull so intense she thought her arm would be torn from her body, while their entwined hands grew hotter and hotter until it felt as though her whole arm was aflame.  
And then it was over.

Fritha opened her eyes, and he was still there next to her, his hand warm in hers and slightly slick, the smell of singed hair stinging her nostrils.

'Gods, are you okay? Did I hurt you?' she cried, dropping his hand to run her own over it and his forearm, checking frantically for any injury, unable to believe they weren't both a charred mess after such pain.

'No, no, my raven, I am fine,' he answered finally, slowly flexing his fingers in wonder, Aerie fussing over him as she just had, while Jaheira much more forcefully took Fritha's arm, pushing back the sleeve for a thorough examination. 'How did you manage to hold me in this plane? Once the yuan-ti had attuned my soul, it should have been a near impossible bond to break.'

Fritha shrugged, glancing down to her own hand once Jaheira had finally released it, not sure she had an answer for him.

'I don't know really. I have this, well, it's like magic only I can't control it…' she trailed off, suddenly aware of everyone looking at them and self-consciously wiping her hands on her trousers. 'But this isn't a conversation for now.'

'No, indeed, my raven,' he agreed solemnly, breaking from the group to trip lightly up the steps next to them and on to the stage and Fritha followed, the actor leading them to the wooden archway, the planar gem still inert before it, just as Raelis had left it. 'The conduit may have yet to move on. I should be able to reopen the portal if I work quickly.'

He took up the gem, holding it out under the arch and sang a single unwavering note, a shimmering blue portal instantly swirling within the archway and he turned back to her, his face unusually grave.

'I cannot leave them with the cambion, my raven. I must enact a rescue before word of their capture reaches the Duke.' He swallowed, seeming unsure of himself as he added, 'you will help?'

Fritha frowned slightly, feeling awful for even considering leaving him to go alone, but Raelis and the troupe were not the only unjustly taken prisoners she had to rescue.

'Will we be able to get back?' she asked, guilt squirming under her ribs, 'I want to help your friends truly, but we have responsibilities on this plane as well.'

The actor sent her an unreadable look, but answered all the same.  
'As long as we have the stone, I see no reason we cannot call up another portal once we have my friends.'

Fritha glanced back to the others, not willing to make the decision for all of them when the man had just proven himself less than trustworthy, and a reluctant assent travelled those behind her; Aerie's face a picture of earnest determination while Jaheira was nodding despite her frown. Fritha turned back to him with a slight smile.  
'Lead on then, sparrow.'

xxx

Fritha shook her head, trying to get her bearings as she eased herself up from where she was sprawled on the ground. The trip through the portal had left her disorientated and a dull ache was throbbing through her limbs, the disconcerting sense that the world was pressing in on her making her feeling slightly claustrophobic. Fritha paused to draw a deep calming breath before she pushed herself upright, sitting in time to watch the portal close behind her. The others were sat about her, all unharmed from what she could see and she took a moment to take in their surroundings.

They were in a strange circular chamber, the floor was a stark uneven white with the feel of stone though it was disturbingly warm to the touch. There were no walls, the floor just dropping away to nothing at the edge of the room, the whole structure seemingly floating in a silvery void. Thorny osseous pillars sprouted from the rim here and there, putting Fritha in mind of huge brambles, all rising to twist and curve above them, entwining at the centre to form a dome, the sky beyond it a pinkish silver, illuminating the place with a hazy grey light.

The room they had arrived in seemed empty, though two archways led from it and she could hear voices nearby. Fritha shifted, rising unsteadily while the others followed suit around her, and through the northern archway she could see the back of the yuan-ti, a couple of his men still about him from what she could see, though all appeared to be focused on what ever it was the creature was talking to.

'Listen, maggot! I want to know how you got your collar off and I want to know n-!'

'T'rael! Others have come through the portal!' one of the men suddenly cried, turning to speak to his companion and finally noticing them, and Fritha saw a gnome in tattered robes cowering behind the group.

'What?' the yuan-ti hissed, whirling back to them, his eyes wide before they suddenly narrowed with genuine amusement.

'The ones from the playhouse!' he laughed. 'Do you have even the _slightest_ idea where you are?'

Fritha shrugged, wondering why they were even bothering with such pleasantries when it would all just end in violence anyway.  
'Well, I'm going to go out on a limb and say another plane.'

He chuckled genially at her cheek.  
'Primes; clueless as usual. I'm afraid it's much, much worse than that,' he continued smoothly. 'This is one of the finest prisons in the planes, and there is no way out of here except at the will of our master, the cambion.'

Why was nothing _ever_ simple?

'Yes,' Fritha sighed, tiredly drawing her sword. 'Yes, that sounds about right.'

His black tongue flickered, a sudden anger contorting his features.  
'Hunters, take them!'

The yuan-ti immediately raised his hands, a pale green light gathering between them as his companion drew their weapons and Fritha hadn't even the chance to shout any orders before the spell released.  
She felt the energy engulf her and then fade, whirling back to find the others similarly puzzled except…  
Minsc and Nalia were frozen where they stood, the ranger with his broadsword already held high.

'_Hells_! Anomen, Jaheira, get on that spellcaster now!' Fritha shrieked, stepping forward to engage one of the advancing guards, Haer'Dalis doing the same, Aerie behind them and readying a spell of her own, while the remaining two guards fell into defensive positions before the yuan-ti.

Fritha circled the man before her, who looked human enough, though his unnervingly pointed teeth were giving her pause on the issue, his sword held low as he watched her. He lunged suddenly and she parried the move, countering with a swing of her own, the pair exchanging blows while the fight raged around them.

A curse behind her from Jaheira, and Fritha felt her skin tingle as another green wave of energy flowed over them, horrified to see the bard next to her suddenly halt mid-parry, his own opponent immediately whirling on the elf behind him. Aerie was ready for him though, a fierce white light flaring from her hands. The man was dead before he hit the ground, but he had been too close to her, it seemed, and Aerie screamed as the energies caught her as well, the girl dropping back to lean against a pillar, awkwardly cradling her arm and looking faint.

Fritha whirled back to catch another sweep of her opponent's sword, but that slight distraction was all that was needed, the man stepping in close, their blades sliding up one another to lock at the guards, the hunter clearly trying to use his greater strength to force the blade from her hand. Fritha resisted, pressing back with as much strength as she could, her arms trembling as they were pushed down when she suddenly let go, her sword flying across the chamber, the release of force weakening the man's grip on his own blade and she struck out at his hand, the sword clattering to the floor between them, Fritha kicking it away before he could stoop to retrieve it.

The hunter cursed, moving to draw his dagger and she grabbed his hand, the pair twisting and struggling to find themselves locked together, Fritha pressed with her back to his chest, holding one of his hands out before them both, while he held the other under her chin, her free hand groping behind her trying draw his dagger herself.

Her face pushed back as they grappled and she could see the yuan-ti's second guard had fallen, Anomen and Jaheira pressing the fight to the creature. Fritha twisted, fumbling for his dagger once more and he struggled, trying to keep her from drawing it, his hand straying on to her face as they fought and she saw her chance, opening her mouth to bite two fingers clean down to the bone.

The man shrieked with rage, drawing back his hand to punch out at her, the fist slamming awkwardly into her eye. She staggered back, one eye closed against the blood that was now trickling down her face, the force of the blow splitting her brow. He grinned, at last drawing his dagger to advance slowly on her, when an enraged roar split the air, Minsc, and the others finally freed as the yuan-ti fell beneath Anomen's mace and the man whirled in time to be cut down by the ranger's sword.

'Thanks Minsc,' she gasped, spitting blood from her mouth with disgust. The man just nodded though, still looking furious and shaking as he turned from her to sheath his blade and Fritha decided he was best left alone until he'd calmed down.  
She sighed, blinking the blood from her eye as she knelt to root through her bag, finally drawing out a handkerchief and wiping it up over her cheek to press against the cut.

'Are you hurt?' came a voice above her and she glanced up, her uncovered eye taking in the image of the bard, a thin cut on his upper arm but otherwise unscathed.

'Not really,' she answered mildly as she rose and honest though her answer had been, she could not help but feel slightly hurt as he turned immediately from her to the elf.  
_Oh, don't start on with that again…_

Aerie was holding her arm out, the skin pink and tender, the girl struggling to get something from her bag with her other hand while Nalia stood close by, her brow furrowed as she clearly suffered something of struggle herself before she at last swept in to aid the girl, though perhaps more briskly than was necessary.

'I think Aerie could use some help, Jaheira,' Fritha said evenly, sending Nalia a smile.

'No, honestly, I'm fine,' the elf began tremulously, the bard still hovering at her side.

'Hush now, my dove,' he soothed. Nalia pulled a face and left them to it, passing Jaheira as the druid marched over to them.

'Don't be foolish. Let me see, girl.'

Fritha turned from them with a tired half-smile, stooping to collect and sheath her sword, rubbing her chest with her free hand as she straightened, the dull ache within just growing worse.  
'Gods, does anyone else feel like they've a rothé beast stood on their chest? This place is awful.'

The squire just looked puzzled though and Jaheira glanced up from where she was spreading a thick yellow paste on Aerie's arm to shake her head, but Nalia glanced to her, nodding slowly.

'I know what you mean, it feels like I'm trying to think through a fog,' she sighed, the ranger nodding at her words.

'Minsc feels this too, a great unrest; Boo is bristled and full of biting!'

'It is the nature of the planes, my raven,' came Haer'Dalis, looking little better himself. 'They are places not just of the physical, but of the spirit as well. They can sing in sweet harmony with your soul or strike a fierce discord with your entire being.'

Aerie hissed sharply under the druid's ministrations and Jaheira tutted, the bard returning his attention to the pair. Fritha threw a shrug to Nalia and turned away from them, almost walking straight into the squire.

'Let me see your face, my lady,' he commanded casually in an echo of the druid, gesturing to the cloth she still had held to her forehead. Fritha sighed. She knew Anomen was only trying to be nice, but she really wasn't in the mood for anyone to be poking at her.

'It's fine, Anomen. The bleeding's almost stopped.'

He ignored her.  
'Move your hand please.'

Fritha removed the cloth gingerly, half-expecting blood to obscure her vision once more and was pleased to find the flow had stemmed.

'Tip your head back,' he ordered, giving her chin an encouraging tap and she obliged him. 'Now look up, down, left, right… no shadows or black spots?'

She shook her head and he nodded.  
'Yes, your eye seems fine.'

'I told you,' she muttered sullenly, lowering her chin, anger with herself instantly welling within her as she watched him frown. 'Sorry, I- it just hurts.'

Anomen nodded again, seemingly uninjured by her sharpness, and she turned finally to face the gnome who had been watching them in silence all this while.

'Are you okay?' she asked by way of greeting, and he nodded once and deeply too, a definite air of respect to the gesture.

'Indeed I am, and I thank you, my lady, for your timely rescue. I am afraid I did not give much thought as to what I would do _after_ I removed my collar.'

'Your collar?' she questioned, noticing the twisted circlet of metal now clutched in his hand.

'Yes, the Warden here, the cambion as you know him, keeps us prisoners as slaves; thralls controlled by magical collars.'

'Nice,' she commented, meaning anything but. 'Do you know of a troupe of actors somewhere here? They should have just arrived.'

'You are friends of the actors?' he exclaimed, giving her a pitying look, 'then you may as well begin mourning them already, my lady.'

'They are dead?' cried Haer'Dalis, suddenly stricken.

The gnome shook his head.  
'No, but as good as. I hear they are in one of the Warden's most secure cells, awaiting collection.'

'Where are they being held?' the actor demanded fiercely, the gnome glancing warily to her before answering, 'in a cell to the north of here. Past the Warden's throne room.'

'Come, my birds, we go now!' Haer'Dalis snapped, straightening. 'If the Duke arrives here we are all dead!'

'Hang on,' Fritha interrupted calmly, making no move to go. 'You may be happy dancing off to oblivion, but I am not.'

The bard frowned, his jaw tight.  
'You are fond of proverbs, yes, my raven? How about he who hesitates is lost- or those dear to him, at least!'

'Act in haste, repent at leisure,' she countered. 'Or, at the cambion's leisure anyway. Are you so keen to become a slave again so soon? You go charging off alone and you'll be caught faster than you can say _thrall_.'

Haer'Dalis looked as though he would reply to this, and none too politely either, but the gnome cut him off.

'You should listen to her, cutter. Consider that even if you do manage to release them, you have nowhere to go.'

'Actually, we have a portal stone,' Fritha provided matter-of-factly and the gnome's eyes went wide.

'Truly? The cambion would surely sense it as soon as you began to summon a portal, but if he was occupied…' he suddenly began to wring his sleeves, voice quivering with anticipation. 'I have a plan, my lady, if you will hear it.'

Fritha nodded mildly.

'The Warden is powerful enough himself, but he will surely call every thrall and guard to his aid should you attack him outright, you would have to fight your way through an entire army to even reach him. Elsewhere in this complex, he has a ta'anari in his service, a lesser demon who serves as Master of Thralls, controlling all the prisoners here by means of an orb. Destroy that and the collars we all wear will cease to function. The prison will suddenly be in chaos and you will have your chance to escape.'

'B-But, what of you and the other slaves?' came Aerie and the gnome gave her a toothy grin.

'Worry not, fair one. Some here are mages, others are psions; just give them a chance and this place will explode with portals. I'm sure to catch one going my way.'

'And these thralls,' questioned Anomen, turning a stern eye on the gnome. 'Are all here as the actors, all taken unjustly?'

The gnome coloured slightly, glancing round at them all.  
'Well…'

Fritha sighed, turning to the squire with a frown, but Jaheira cut in before any more could be said.

'No, I agree with Anomen,' she announced sternly, and no one looked more surprised than he. 'We could be freeing dangerous creatures if we disable these collars. Releasing them here could have far reaching consequences across the planes.'

Fritha nodded tiredly. She certainly agreed with her in principal, but…  
'And what's our other option. Kill everyone here, the good with the bad? Even if the idea of such a slaughter didn't turn my stomach, I don't fancy our chances against the cambion, when and if we manage to fight our way through his entire army.'  
And when the woman still did not look convinced, 'All right, we vote on it. All in favour of the plan?'

Five hands instantly shot into the air. Anomen glanced to the druid and shrugged slightly, the woman turning away with a snort.

'Okay,' Fritha continued quickly, unwilling to dwell on this less than unanimous decision, 'we'll split into two groups. Haer'Dalis and Nalia, you will go with our friend here,' she nodded to the gnome who paled, 'and free the troupe.'

'Me, I cannot-' he began to splutter, and Jaheira silenced him with a look

'You can and will, gnome, lest I remind you that it is _your _plan we are carrying out and you will be present to reap its success- or _otherwise_,' she finished darkly.

Fritha bit back a sigh and continued as blithely as she could.  
'Avoid conflict if you can, and try not to release the troupe until we have freed the thralls.'

Nalia and Haer'Dalis nodded curtly and she turned back to the others.

'The rest of us will go and kill this ta'anari.' She glanced to the gnome. 'Any ideas where he'll be?'

'He enjoys making the thralls fight each other for his amusement. The Warden had a special chamber built in the east of the complex for this very purpose and he is probably there. Just follow the eastern passage and take the fifth walkway north. Oh, and take care not to touch the portals there, they lead off to other areas of the prison. One wrong step and you could be lost for days.'

Fritha nodded.  
'Okay. Haer'Dalis and Nalia, once you have the troupe, head back here. We will too and we can all escape together. Any questions?'

'What are we going to do about these bodies?' asked Nalia, gesturing to the five corpses that lay in the room behind them, bright against the stark white floor. 'They rather ruin our element of surprise.'

'I- I could try to make them invisible,' ventured Aerie quietly and Fritha smiled.

'That sounds promising. Only let's pile them out of the way first. Amusing though it would be to have people tripping over them,' Nalia snorted noisily, 'I'm sure it would not be in our interests.'

Everyone seemed to nod in unison, Minsc and Jaheira moving off to collect the bodies, while Nalia and Haer'Dalis dropped down to talk quietly with the gnome, Aerie standing apart from them all with eyes closed and drawing slow measured breaths as she prepared her spell. Fritha stood watching them all, Anomen moving to join her.

'Do you believe this plan will work?'

She shrugged.  
'I believe it is our best chance of escape,' she answered evasively, but he seemed to understand her meaning.

Fritha sighed. She never should have dragged them all through here. Now they were trapped in the best prison the planes had to offer with Imoen abandoned on the other side of the multiverse and no one who even _knew _of her plight left on the prime material to help her. As awful as it felt, a part of her was beginning to wish she had never met the actor.  
Fritha sighed again, turning to give the squire a wan smile.  
'Ah, I'm sure it will all work out in the end, Anomen. As they say, no good deed goes unpunished.'

He snorted, returning her smile dryly.  
'So I have noticed.'


	19. The prison on the planes

Disclaimer: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**The prison on the planes**

Nalia walked along yet another stark white passage, making note of the way in preparation for their return journey, the bright open walkways making it difficult to remain inconspicuous as she followed the gnome whom they now knew as Tagget, Haer'Dalis just behind him and practically twitching in his eagerness to reach his friends. Nalia sent a frown to the actor's back.

If she was honest, she was having mounting reservations concerning Haer'Dalis; the discovery of his less than honest approach toward them so far putting the bard in a very different light, as someone far more opportunist than altruist.  
She thought back to the way he had stared so adoringly up at Raelis in the theatre. It was clear to anyone with eyes he liked the actress and yet here he was happily encouraging Aerie's affection in the meantime. And the silly girl was just going along with it!

Nalia frowned, a strange jealousy warming her stomach as she considered the young woman whom she had been so ready to welcome into her confidence. Haer'Dalis or not, she was still holding Aerie accountable for her own actions; after all, _he_ had owed Nalia no allegiance.

'Along here, it's just up ahead,' came Tagget quietly, disappearing down a passage to the left, the bard on his heels.

Nalia nodded to herself and followed the pair, careful not to touch the fleshy portals that were pulsating like great boils along one side of the walkway, the girl revolted by the mere sight.  
That she wanted to spend her life helping others was true enough, but she wasn't really sure whether travelling to other planes was for her, especially when it was to rescue people who had done nothing so far but lie and trick them.

'_There are those who are deserving of charity and those who are not,' _came the squire's voice behind her eyes and Nalia felt herself smile wryly, recalling her outrage when Anomen had expressed this similar sentiment after they had left her old home.  
She sighed to herself, her heart suddenly heavy.  
It all felt so long ago now. Everything had changed so dramatically in such a short space of time and though she was happy to be aiding those less fortunate, this new life she had entered was not unfolding in any way she could have ever imagined.

'Hold and identify yourselves, strangers,' came a gruff voice ahead of them and Nalia started to see two guards appear suddenly from the portal before them, the pair giving Haer'Dalis a suspicious look as he stepped forward to speak with them, his swords held menacingly behind the gnome and Nalia surreptitiously nocked an arrow.

'We are hunters, newly in the employ of your cambion,' came Haer'Dalis with an almost arrogant smile. 'We caught this,' he gave the gnome a vicious poke with one of his blades and Tagget gave a convincing whimper, 'trying to escape. It seems to have slipped its collar, so we are taking it to be refitted.'

One guard glanced to the other with an unpleasant laugh, both drawing their swords.  
'Nice story, berk, but I haven't heard of any new hands being taken on and as anyone who works here knows, the collars are fitted in the west of the complex. Guar-!'

Nalia loosed an arrow before he had even finished the word, his armour useless at such close range, and Haer'Dalis was on the other but a second later, feigning an attack to his head with one sword, the other moving so quickly the man could not catch the blow in time, the bard slashing him neatly across the stomach.

'Well, that was, well…' mumbled Tagget, seemingly left speechless by the sudden ferocity of their attack. Nalia stared blankly down at the bodies, wondering when killing had become such a normal part of her life.

'We can't leave them here,' she heard herself say and the gnome nodded.

'Over there,' he said, pointing to the base of the nearest pillar,' we can put them behind that.'

Nalia shrugged absently. It was not the best of hiding places and nothing could be done about the blood smeared across the floor, but they had very little choice.

'What on Toril was this blasted play about anyway?' she huffed crossly as she bent to take the nearest body under the arms and drag it across the walkway.

'A Comedy of Terrors,' sighed Haer'Dalis, stooping to collect the other body. 'Who could have anticipated that a sordid tale of lust between two certain planar beings might hold a mirror to the truth. Within hours the theatre was left in ruins and a price was placed on our fleeing heads.'

Nalia rather thought it served them right for performing a play that even the writer did not wish to be associated with. If in the same situation, she would have at least assumed the play would be just plain rubbish, even if not inflammatory.

'And now Duke Darkwood pursues us with a thirst for revenge that will not be quenched,' he said, shaking his head as they continued on their journey after the gnome. 'A High Factol of the Fated, a faction that believes to take something is to own it.'

'So he did not likely come by his lofty position through hard work and diplomacy then,' she commented dryly and the bard gave a humourless laugh.

'No indeed, he will have fought to take it from those strong enough to have secured it before him. He is a creature of power almost unimaginable. If he arrives here before we leave, I cannot believe we will escape alive.'

'Here,' came Tagget, and Nalia glanced up to see a small chamber opening at the end of the passage, another walkway leading off to the north where she could just see the figures of more guards milling about. 'The cells are just along that passage. We can wait behind those,' he finished pointing to a couple of the thicker pillars.

Nalia frowned slightly.  
'It's rather exposed.'

Tagget nodded, but crossed to one all the same.  
'Yes, but the best we have, I'm afraid.' The gnome grinned. 'Let us hope your friends work quickly, eh?'

xxx

Fritha winced, rubbing her abdomen as her stomach gave another fierce growl of hunger, the girl turning to glance back along the passage they had just walked down. The gnome had made the path to the Thrall Master sound a lot less complicated than they had found it, the fifth turning north actually leading them to a dead end and the group had been divided since then.

Anomen and Jaheira had both believed the gnome had merely been mistaken in his count, while Aerie maintained he had probably meant them to count only the main passages north, not the minor walkways. Whether it was again the influence of the plane or merely their situation, but this had soon descended into crossed words until Minsc, or rather Boo, had wisely pointed out it did not matter either way; the fifth passage was clearly not the one they needed and Fritha led them eastwards once more, the group taking the next passage they came to north.

Fritha sighed, passing another junction and skirting the edge of one of the fleshy portals that peppered the walkways, taking another long draft of water from her flask in an effort to trick her stomach into think it was full. They had been travelling north for a while now, Fritha wondering when she would finally admit defeat and turn them all around to try a different passage, when up ahead another junction swung into view, a pair of huge doors set just within the eastern walkway, hanging there like the fossilised ribcage of some great planar beast.

Fritha stopped, pointing them out to the others behind her and holding a finger to her lips as they continued on, the girl reaching the doors and pausing only to draw her sword before pushing one open. Inside, a huge stark arena was laid out before them, and Fritha was left in no doubt that they had reached their goal. White tiered walls rose up around them, the highest crowned by a row of the twisted bone pillars, giving it the feeling of some great cage, the chamber above open to the silvery sky, while at the opposite end, upon a huge throne of the same gnarled bone, sat the Master of the Thralls.

The creature was huge; a black skinned and muscular man who would have dwarfed even Minsc, broad shoulders supporting two leathery wings while from his head a pair of thick black horns curved in a wide arc back from his forehead. He was not armed as far as she could see, in fact he wasn't even what she would considered as _dressed_, the demon proudly displaying well-muscled arms and chest, wearing only a pair of heavy golden bracers and some kind of plated metal loin cloth, though whether it was for modesty or decoration, Fritha did not like to ponder.

He did not appear to have noticed them, occupied as he was by the fight that was currently taking place, a dark elf battling a minotaur, the elf badly wounded, one arm torn off at the elbow and Fritha had the feeling that if he had not been controlled he would have given up the fight long ago. The others thralls were sat in rows on the lower few steps of the arena, all armed and watching the on-going fight with blank eyes.

Fritha glanced back, beckoning for the others to follow her as she took a step onto the first tier, climbing to the same level as the demon's throne and marching along the step towards him, the girl noticing as she drew closer, a dark gold chain about his neck, a plain blue sphere hanging from it and glowing faintly; the Orb of Mastery.

A scream from the arena, the demon laughing deeply as the drow was finally cut down, and Fritha could not feel anything but happy that his suffering was over even as the demon turned to order in the next pair of thralls and finally noticed their group.  
'What? Who are _you_?'

Fritha quickened her pace, determined to reach him before his suspicions were raised, saluting with her sword as she walked, her tone clipped and respectful.

'My lord, we bare a vital news. Some primes have infiltrated the prison, bent on rescuing a troupe of Cagers the hunters recently brought in.'

The demon was on his feet in a moment, huge wings unfurling at his back and Fritha felt suddenly very small as she halted before him.  
'By the Abyss!' he roared, clearly alarmed, 'does the Warden know?'

She grinned darkly.

'I hope not; we're the primes.'

He lunged at her instantly, his fury evident, the girl dodging the blow neatly, Jaheira slamming her staff into his exposed flank while Aerie sent a blast of energy down into the thralls who were racing up the steps to defend their master, Minsc and Anomen taking up positions on a lower step, ready to hold them back.

Fritha ducked another swipe at her, dancing past the demon's claws to slash along his wing, the creature roaring angrily as Aerie released another spell and the troll Anomen had been struggling with was suddenly frozen, the squire turning immediately to knock back a pair of elves who where trying to break through.

Minsc was having trouble with the thralls as well, currently trading blows with the minotaur, the creature's axe swinging in wide arcs and Jaheira turned quickly to defend the ranger against the orc who had come to join the fight. Fritha stepped in, placing herself between the druid's now unprotected back and the demon, bringing her sword up into a hanging guard, the creature anticipating the move and throwing a clawed hand out to grab her.

She leapt back, swinging up to slice the creature neatly across the chest, though he ignored the blow, catching her awkwardly by her chainmail, the demon lifting her easily, her feet thrashing as she struggled in his grip. Minsc roared, knocking back the minotaur to whirl on them, sword held high and a moment later Fritha felt herself falling, a spray of hot blood splattering her face. She looked up from where she had landed to see Minsc trying to pull his blade from the demon's forearm, the minotaur back on his feet and advancing on the ranger.

'Minsc!' she shrieked, and he freed his sword just in time, whirling to cut the minotaur down in one smooth swing, the demon lunging at his exposed back. Fritha leapt into a crouch, thrusting her sword up into his thigh, the ta'anari throwing back its horned head with a roar and Jaheira saw her chance, slipping in her staff to hook the chain it wore and snap the necklace from its neck, tossing the orb immediately to the elf.

'Aerie!'

The girl caught it clumsily, instantly starting to chant over it, the orb glowing brighter and brighter when she raised it above her head and threw it to the ground with all her might.  
A crack that Fritha felt as much as heard echoed through the chamber, and for an instant everything seemed to stop, a stillness hanging over the room as the thralls glanced about looking bewildered, when the ta'anari's guttural roar split the silence and chaos erupted.

xxx

Nalia flattened herself against the barbed pillar, shouts and explosions echoing eerily back along the passage as the last of guards ran past them, the cells now left unattended. The others had clearly managed to kill the ta'anari and she felt a twist of worry shudder through her. A demon, even a lesser one, was a formidable foe; she only hoped they had all survived the battle unharmed.

'Well,' came the gnome, stepping from behind the pillar opposite with a sigh. 'I think my work here is done now. Thank you again and good luck.'

Nalia nodded and he bowed quickly to them both before hurrying off down the passage after the guards.

'Come, it's time,' said Haer'Dalis, edging out from behind the pillar next to her and they ran across the chamber to the cells, the bard flying along the passage only to stop suddenly with a cry of 'Raelis!'

Nalia caught him but a moment later, the pair still holding hands through the gnarled and twisting bars of the gate while others of the troupe all crowded forward, laughing and talking, the cell behind them just a small circular chamber open to the void beyond.  
Raelis was chattering breathlessly, her eyes wide as though she expected them to disappear at any moment.

'Haer'Dalis, my sparrow, I cannot believe you have come! Oh, and who is this, not one of your friends from before?'

Nalia was tempted to ask her who _else_ she considered it could have been, but she held her temper, saying only, 'you will all have to move back if I am to unlock to door.'

The troupe obliged her instantly, and she dropped to her knees before the gate, drawing a long metal pick from the wallet on her belt and moving to work the lock. The gate was made from the same material as the strange bone-like pillars there, the surface smooth and warm and she bit back a sigh of frustration as the mechanism within seemed to almost twist and alter to foil her efforts.

'Have you got it yet?' hissed the bard urgently and Nalia shot him a look.

'I am trying! This lock is like nothing I've ever encountered before, it keeps changing, almost as though it's- ah!' she cried, the pick jolting in her hand and she drew it from the lock to find half of it just gone, snapped clean away.

'That does it!' she shrieked, throwing the broken pick along the passage in her temper and fumbling in her bag to draw out a heavy glass bottle. If this didn't work…

'Right, this would normally take too long on a metal lock, but on this… stand back,' she commanded, carefully removing the glass stopper and everyone shuffled to the back of the cell. 'You too, Haer'Dalis.'

And without waiting to see if he had complied, she emptied the entire bottle over it, the lock groaning shrilly as the acid ate through, one of the actors giving it a sound kick for good measure and at last the gate swung open.

'You have done it!'

'Come, my birds,' laughed Haer'Dalis, ushering them through the gate, 'the other primes await us even now and together we will make good our escape!'

Raelis nodded once, sweeping over to Nalia to take both her hands.

'And I must thank you, my dear. I am so sorry you have been dragged into all this; it is all my fault!'

Haer'Dalis shook his head, moving to lay a soothing hand upon the woman's arm.

'Sweet Raelis, we all performed the play, you never could have known it was not fiction.'

'Oh Haer'Dalis,' she cried dramatically, dropping Nalia's hands to whirl on him. 'There was no mystery writer! The play is mine, down to the last word!'

The bard looked rather taken aback, staring round at them all, some of the troupe looking disgruntled while others seemed unconcerned, though none looked particularly surprised by this revelation. Haer'Dalis's mouth was slightly open, as though he did not know quite how to reply, though it was not his voice that at last broke the silence, Nalia stood before them almost shaking with outrage that after everything, the actors had brought all this on themselves.

'What is _wrong _with you all?' she shrieked, unable to believe how she and her friends were risking their lives to rescue such dishonest and foolish people. 'First the gem and now this! You speak lies as readily as the truth!'

'Now really,' came Raelis almost reproachfully, the theatrics suddenly gone from her manner. 'None of this was intentional, my dear! We merely acted as our new role as outlaws dictated. Any mistake would have meant our deaths.'

Nalia glared back, her manner hard.

'That may well as be, but I _sincerely_ suggest you do not mention any of this to the others, or it could well do!'

xxx

The group hurried along passage after passage, Jaheira leading the way with Minsc while shouts and explosions split the air, the aisles around them a chaos of people and magic. The ta'anari had not lasted long after the thralls had been freed, everyone just rushing in at once to overwhelm the creature and Fritha had led them from the fight before the creature had even fallen, her main priority now to get the group out alive.

Outside the arena, a squad of guards had arrived, trying and failing to subdue the riot that was already in place, the soldiers slowly being overwhelmed by the now free thralls, who were only too willing to cut down their former oppressors. But their battle was blocking the way they had come and the group's only choice had been to fight their way through to the eastern passage and take the next southern one they came to, Fritha's fears that after everything, they would just end up losing themselves in that maze of walkways mounting with every step.

The group had just reached another dead end, the passage they had been following opening out to a small chamber, the group of githyanki within already knelt in a circle preparing to plane shift. Jaheira sent Fritha a dark look and the girl dropped her eyes, unable to meet her gaze. Yes, they had all known it would be so, but still it was an unpleasant truth to bear, the knowledge that not all they had freed were as innocuous as the actors.

They turned back, returning to the next junction and moving south once more through the chaos. Most thralls were working furiously to summon portals and gates, though some seemed more focused on fighting each other, Fritha glancing down one of the walkways they passed to see a group of imps battling a succubus and two quasits; the Blood War as alive there as anywhere, it seemed.

'Here,' came Jaheira ahead of her, the group stopping at another crossroads, the druid indicating the western passage with her staff.

'We should turn here.'

'Are you sure,' came Aerie tentatively, I don't think we're south enough yet. We should carry on this way, until the next junction.'

Jaheira snorted crossly and everyone seemed to turn instinctively to Fritha, the girl's stomach sinking; they had doubled back so many times now she really wasn't sure either way.

'Er…'

Everyone ducked as another explosion roared overhead, a group of drow charging down the walkway and barely sparing their group a glance as they pushed roughly past them, shouting angrily to each other as they disappeared off along the southern passage. Fritha took a step onto the western walkway.

'Definitely this way.'

They hurried on, past more thralls and portals, the way slowly growing quieter as they went and Fritha was just beginning to worry that her faith in the druid had been misplaced, when they rounded a bend in the passage and she could finally see the chamber they had arrived in up ahead, Nalia, Haer'Dalis and the other actors already there and waiting.

So this was it. Though it was a touch belated and not exactly as she had envisioned, bard and troupe were reunited and the time for farewells was at hand.

'Ah, my raven, you return triumphant, I see,' Haer'Dalis called out as she approached, his eyes shining with a dark glee. 'The thralls are free and chaos consumes this cage!'

'Well, I'm glad someone's having fun,' she commented dryly, sending a smile to Nalia but the girl just turned away, her arms folded and Fritha was given no chance to question further as Raelis swept in to throw her arms about her, Fritha stood stiffly within, unused to being embraced by people she knew well, let alone strangers.

'My dear, you have known us for but a short time and yet you bought our freedom with your blood.'

The only reply she managed to this was a strangled noise of assent, the girl finding it difficult to think past her discomfort, but Raelis seemed satisfied enough, finally releasing her to step back and include them all with a sweep of her arm.

'My friends, it is a debt I can never repay, but I shall try. Here Fritha, the deeds to the playhouse in Athkatla, yours to do with as you wish. I have left instructions with Nalia on how to use the portal stone and may the Prime treat you well.'

'But how will you escape here?' came Aerie quietly from behind her. Raelis smiled generously, nodding to a pale and frowning woman stood amongst the actors in dark tattered robes.

'We met a mage on the way here who is opening a portal to Sigil and she has agreed to let us join her. We will return to the City of Doors and travel on from there. Come, my birds! Ready Haer'Dalis?'

Fritha smiled as warmly as she was able and gave his back a hearty clap.  
'Safe journey then, sparrow.'

The man glanced to her then back to the actress looking torn, when his expression changed to one of resolve and he turned back to Raelis, suddenly grave.

'I cannot come with you, Raelis, not this time.'

'_What_?' chorused Nalia and Jaheira, but Raelis did not seem as surprised, a melancholy resignation to her face.

'No? No more plays, Haer'Dalis?'

The bard shook his head.

'I wish I could, but I am just another moth come too close to your flame, and it is a torture I can no longer bear. The Prime beckons this sparrow and I must heed its call.'

The woman nodded once, turning back to Fritha with a sad smile

'Then go, Fritha, and take yon lovely moth with you.'

'Miss Raelis, the gate!' one of the actors cried, pointing to a warm yellow portal currently shimmering in the air behind them, the mage clearly growing impatient with this drawn-out farewell and starting her summoning. Realis nodded, giving Haer'Dalis one last smile and hurrying off towards it, the actors coming forward to embrace and say farewell to their comrade before following her.  
Fritha turned back to the group with a tired smile.

'Right, let's get back to the Prime. Nalia?'

The girl took the portal stone from her robes, Haer'Dalis moving to her side before she had a chance to reply.

'Here, I shall summon it,' he said with a friendly smile, Nalia relinquishing the stone with barely a glance to him and coming to stand next to her, Fritha sending her a questioning look, but the girl just shook her head darkly.

Haer'Dalis dropped instantly to his knees as Raelis had, placing the stone on the ground before him and drawing a deep breath, opening his mouth to begin the summoning when a feral roar seemed to tremor through the chamber. The bard looked up sharply, and Fritha saw her own alarm reflected in his face.

'The Duke?' he cried, half making to stand again.

'The cambion!' cried Aerie, and Fritha whirled to see a huge armoured figure appear from the junction at the end of the eastern passage, fighting a group of drow, though it was hardly a battle at all. Fritha watched as spells and blows deflected uselessly off the creature's black armour, the demon unhurriedly cutting down each elf in turn, swinging its monstrous sword into them as a farmhand would reap wheat. Fritha felt herself grow cold.

'Open that portal, now!'

Haer'Dalis whirled back to the stone before him, chanting low and fast while the others took up positions behind. The last drow had fallen, the cambion turning slowly to take in the group stood with weapons drawn and Fritha could feel its anger as it began a deliberate advance towards them.

'Haer'Dalis…' Fritha pressed, glancing back to see an open portal shimmering blue behind them, the scene on the other side changing constantly; a gloomy cavern, a twisted street, a cluttered stage-

'I am trying- there, the playhouse! I have it!' he cried springing up to seize Aerie's arm, 'Quickly now!'

The elf leapt through, the others pressing round the portal and Fritha glanced back as an enraged growl echoed along the eastern passage. The cambion had noticed their escape, his pace quickening, the great hulking figure gathering speed by the second.

'My raven!'

She whirled back, Haer'Dalis stood alone before the portal and she finally sheathed her sword, scooping the stone from the floor as she leapt through after him, the portal swallowing shut behind her.

xxx

Haer'Dalis lay on his back, his eyes taking in the smooth white plaster of the playhouse ceiling.  
They had done it!  
He felt a laugh of triumph bubbling up within him, but he had not the breath for it, the trip through the portal leaving him winded. He sat stiffly, ignoring the ache in his hip where he had fallen awkwardly on one of his swords, and looked around.

The others were about him, all slowly making to rise, while Fritha was already stood brushing the dust from her tunic and looking as unfazed by her return to her home plane as she had by her departure. She reached down to help up the woman at her feet, the druid ignoring her hand most pointedly and rising unaided.

He watched a tired look flit across the girl's face and tried to send her a smile as he stood as well, a slight guilt tickling his spine as he considered what his company had cost the group so far. Still, they all chose their own paths; he could not be held responsible for the disagreements of others.

'So,' he sighed, feeling suddenly and most unreasonably melancholy, considering he had just rescued his friends and escaped unscathed against all odds, 'it seems this sparrow is back in the Prime again, only this time without a company or profession to my name.'

'What will you do now? I'm sure you can come with us… I mean…' came Aerie earnestly, slowly trailing off at the silence that followed her words, glancing to Fritha for confirmation, who for her part, glanced to the druid, the woman turning away with a frown. Fritha shook her head, sending him a smile but clearly unwilling to say either way without some discussion first, turning to drop lightly from the stage.

'Ah, come on, lovely moth,' she sighed, her smile lingering as she headed towards the stairs, 'we'll shout you a drink.'

xxx

Fritha sighed, closing her eyes and breathing in the smell of dust and wax, the timbers groaning faintly beneath her feet as she walked slowly to the edge of the stage. She opened her eyes, looking out at the rows of benches, bright and ordered in the flickering lamplight before turning to see her theatre as the audience would have. White columns rising up at either side of the stage, painted with golden ivy coiling up them, the deep crimson curtain hanging heavy behind, the stage itself still littered with pieces of set, a backdrop of mountains and a boiling grey sky hanging behind it all.

Fritha felt a sudden thrill travel her spine, making the skin of her arms bristle. It was the same feeling she had in Candlekeep, the sheer potential of the place, and she imagined it hanging in sheets above her, pale and shimmering like the Northern Auroras.  
Of all the things she had ever been gifted for helping people, this was by far the best.

Fritha smiled to herself, leaving the glare of the stage and pushing past the heavy curtain into the wings, slipping through the narrow passage to the cool gloom of the backstage, the peeling whitewashed walls and plain furniture a stark contrast to the gaudy stage front.  
She wandered slowly from room to room exploring. First to the dressing room, a dozen amber-haired girls walking in with her, flickering reflections in the mirrors that hung before every dresser, the only bare wall stacked high with hampers of wigs and hats and the thick oily face-paints.

She took the only lit lamp from one of the tables there and continued on into the adjoining room. That seemed to be a huge wardrobe of sorts, and she drifted along the rails of costumes; gowns and robes and cloaks, all infused with the same smell of dust and mothballs.  
The next few rooms were little more than large cupboards, storing the theatre's many props, from the more mundane furniture and other domestic items, through to fake swords and armour, and, most unusually of all, a couple of wired human skeletons and a papier-mâché dragon's head.

Her exploration of the backstage over, Fritha had been about to ascend the narrow staircase that led up to the flies, when she noticed a door set in the wall underneath. She pushed it open, expecting to find another storeroom crammed with props, and was surprised to find narrow but high room, the ceiling sloping where the stairs rose above. Its walls were the same peeling whitewash as the rest of the backstage, and the only thing of note about it seemed to be the fact it was almost completely empty, the only exception being an ostentatious gilt mirror that stood floor to ceiling on the wall opposite.

What was this place, that stood so empty when the rest of the backstage seemed to be bursting at the seams?  
Fritha held the lamp up higher, taking a step into the room to consider the huge mirror, almost twice her height and wide enough for three of her.  
An old dressing room? Perhaps somewhere for trying on costumes?

Something stirred within her and in her mind she saw a pallet on the floor, a heavy blue quilt crumpled upon it and half hidden behind a faded Kara-Turan screen, the wooden panels painted with peony and butterflies while the rickety chair in corner held her comb and hair oil, her sword and belts hung neatly over the back.  
Fritha felt herself smiling faintly. Home could be found in the strangest of places.

'Er, miss?' came a hesitant voice behind her and she started, whirling round to meet a long lined face under a crop of brown hair and a rather elaborate hat. Grey eyes flicked nervously from her to the empty room behind her and Fritha realised she must have looked rather odd staring into it as she was; the fact she was armed, a blue black welt staining one eyebrow, probably doing little to reassure him.

'Can I help you?' she offered with a polite smile and the man seemed to recover himself slightly.

'Yes, indeed you can, miss, if you would but direct me to the Lady Raelis, I shall disturb your,' he glanced again to the empty room, 'ah, _you_ no longer.'

Fritha ran an eye over the man, his thin frame clad in extravagant but slightly worn clothes; it seemed unlikely he was another bounty hunter. She shrugged.  
'Raelis has left and the troupe with her, I own the playhouse now.'

'Oh,' he said shortly, opening his mouth once or twice again as though to continue, but each time shutting it without a sound.

'Well, my lady,' he began finally, and Fritha could not help but notice the elevation of her title, 'I am Higgold, a director of plays and theatrics all along the Coast of Swords. I had arranged a play for the Sigil Troupe to perform, but since they've gone…' he trailed off, clearly considering something as he glanced about him and when he turned back to her there was a sudden earnest look to his eyes.

'My lady,' he breathed dramatically.

Fritha remained unmoved.  
'Yes.'

'I know of a new troupe, just formed. Most of them are pretty green, but lots of enthusiasm. If I could secure them for this endeavour would you still be willing to stage the production- for a cut of the profits, of course,' he added hastily. 'And,' he continued, clearly assuming that someone who owned a theatre would be tempted by (or even had a clue about) such things, 'we would defer to your decisions on casting and such. After all, it would be the reputation of your playhouse at stake and you would be providing all costumes and properties as well as the,' he coughed, and looked a touch reluctant to finish, 'the wages.'

Fritha frowned slightly. Samuel, the halfling owner of the Five Flagons, had mentioned that Raelis had left some funds in the company coffers for their intended production. She had been planning to send the money straight over to Gaelen, but…  
If the playhouse was up and running it would be earning money for her, meaning that even if she was injured or killed, funds to rescue Imoen would still be being raised.  
Fritha glanced back to Higgold, who seemed to be trying and failing to hide his enthusiasm.

'Yes. If you could speak with them.'

'Certainly, my Lady Patron!' he agreed, earnestly shaking her hand. 'Until the morrow.'

He gave a flamboyant bow and swept off, back to the light of the stage, Fritha watching him go with a wry smile.  
Lady Patron. Well, it was certainly better than _Bhaalspawn_.

She sighed gently, knowing she should probably go and tell the others of her plans and discuss how they were to find more work, but she just couldn't quite bring herself to leave the peace of her theatre yet. Besides, she reasoned, a certain melancholy creeping back into her mood, it would likely be full of people again tomorrow; she may as well enjoy the place while she could.  
She closed her eyes, imagining the others all sat about the table upstairs as she she'd left them.

Haer'Dalis would be telling some outrageous story, Aerie at his elbow, giggling and gasping at all the correct intervals.  
Nalia would be laughing too, though still pointedly ignoring the elf, while Anomen would probably be disapproving, hiding any amusement in his cup lest he encourage the man. Minsc would likely be enjoying the story as well and probably interrupting the actor with questions in the most amusing way, always with half an eye kept on Boo, and Jaheira…

Fritha felt a familiar worry rise within her. Jaheira had been annoyed since the prison, and Fritha's request that Haer'Dalis be allowed to stay in their company was clearly the last in a long line of _imprudent _decisions that day.

She frowned, unable to shake the feeling that she may well be agreeing with the druid before the tenday was out. Letting the actor stay would likely cause problems and she hoped again it had been her desire to act fairly by him, and not more selfish reasons that had prompted her decision. He had already been the cause of a falling out between the girls; perhaps she should have told him the group had no room for him, but it had seemed so unfair when he hadn't actually _done_ anything.

Fritha sighed. Well, the choice was made now; they would just have to deal with trouble as it arose, and even with such concerns hanging over her, she could not regret her decision, not when it would allow her the chance to become better acquainted with the man.

That he had liked Raelis had been clear from the moment Fritha had seen them together, but in the end, he had left the actress's company of his own volition to join with theirs, so perhaps he was ready to move on from the woman as well.  
_Yes, perhaps _you_ can heal his heart_ sighed her mind in a rather dreamy voice and Fritha snorted. Perhaps _not_, but she could get to know him better, discover the depth of her own feelings and see if they were suited, _and_ whether her regard was returned.

_And what of Aerie?  
_What of her? Fritha replied stalwartly, ignoring the slight twinge in her stomach when she thought of the rare and radiant elf.

Yes, Aerie clearly held an affection for him, and one intense enough for her to risk her friendship with Nalia over, but, that hardly meant anything at this early stage. The man had only just met them a day ago; the girl may find, on reflection, that she did not like him after all.  
And, Fritha continued when that failed to quell her nagging doubts, whatever Aerie's feelings were, it did not necessarily mean Haer'Dalis returned them. Besides,

'All's fair…'


	20. Love and war

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

_Author's note: Quite a long chapter this time and so special thanks go to my third beta reader, (or should that be delta reader?) Ella, who trawled through it for me. And, while we're dishing out the gratitude, thanks to everyone who's got this far, especially to everyone who reviewed/messaged. Feedback is always appreciated. _:-)

**Love and war**

Fritha clattered down the familiar curved staircase of the Copper Coronet, the sound of the other patrons taking breakfast drifting up from the tavern below. The group had returned to the inn soon after her meeting with Higgold the previous evening, the girl explaining to them her plans for the playhouse on the way and was surprised to find that everyone was in favour of her decision, to varying degrees.  
Fritha had reached the tavern by now, Nalia, Minsc, Aerie and Haer'Dalis already at a table and the latter pair seemingly deep in conversation, though the bard looked up as she approached.

'My raven, it is good to see you!' he greeted with enthusiasm.

'Well, someone got out of the right side of bed this morning,' Fritha called back, sending a bemused smile to Nalia who dropped her eyes to her cup.

'The right side?' came the bard, puzzled, 'as opposed to the left side?'

'As opposed to the wrong side,' giggled Aerie.

'Hmm, a prime expression, I assume?' he confirmed dismissively, 'well, right or left, I am merely happy to see the beginning of a new day as only one who is free can. Aerie here has just been telling me a little of your quest, my raven. It is a drama worthy of the stage.'

Fritha sank into the empty chair next to Nalia.  
'Ah, the quest; my _favourite _breakfast conversation,' she sighed, smiling faintly, but if he heard her sarcasm he was ignoring it.

'An impossible sum to raise for a dark and shadowy group, and all after your imprisonment by a mage of some power; we have more in common than I first realised,' he laughed, though the elf next to him did not seem to share his amusement. 'But twenty thousand coin is quite a sum; why do you undertake such a task?'

Fritha shrugged absently, taking a dish from the centre of the table, juice dripping on to it as she began to peel an apple.  
'My friend, Imoen, is being held by the Cowled Wizards. That is the cost of the location and rescue.'

Haer'Dalis grinned.

'You seem to make a career of freeing the imprisoned from their cages and so you should, for you do it well. Might I enquire as to the identity of this friend? Is he your mentor? A comrade in arms?' he paused to take a sip of tea, watching her carefully over the rim of his cup, 'an old lover, mayhaps?'

Fritha rather wished she had managed to suppress her incredulous snort, sure it did nothing to enhance her air of mystery.

'_She_ is my friend, as I just said. We grew up together.'

'And for that you would even risk the wrath of the Cowled Wizards! You have destructive streak that would fascinate any Doomguard.'

He was smiling in a way that indicated that this was no small compliment and Fritha frowned slightly, feeling strangely unsure of herself and quickly dropping her attention to her dish, glad for the distraction as Anomen and Jaheira finally arrived at the table. There was no denying she had hoped the bard would like her, but she felt uneasy with the idea that it was merely due to her more suicidal lifestyle, especially when for the most part she would have liked nothing more than to avoid it.

'So what is our plan for the day?' came Jaheira, Fritha glancing up to find the woman watching her from under a contemplative frown.  
Fritha shrugged, carefully slicing the apple on her plate.

'What else? Looking for more work. I thought we could split up,' she continued, glancing to the table about her, 'ask around the temples, merchant's guilds, look into some of the local bounties. I leave it entirely up to you as to what you accept, the only stipulations being: no portals, no sewers.'

An announcement which was followed by much nodding.

'As ever, all costs are covered by the group, so if you have any repairs to make, see Jaheira for the coin and payments still stand at fifty gold pieces.'

'Fifty gold?' repeated Haer'Dalis with a slight frown, 'would not a percentage of what is earned be fairer?'

Fritha shrugged, finishing her mouthful of apple to answer him.

'Perhaps so, and when we start earning more than a few hundred gold per job, I'll rethink things.' She glanced about the table, her voice mild and curious. 'Does anyone else have a problem? Say so if you do.' A round of even dissent and Fritha turned back to him with a shrug. 'There you go.'

'Yes,' agreed Nalia, looking positively hopeful, 'if you do not agree, I am sure there are other companies in Athkatla that pay better.'  
But the bard just laughed.

'Oh, no, no. I cannot value gold above the glory I will no doubt find in your company.'

Fritha smiled slightly. Glory. Yes, the sewers were just knee deep in the stuff.

'Okay, groups. I was planning to head over to the Council Buildings and look at the bounties.'

'I shall join you,' came the druid and Fritha nodded. Jaheira had been rather short with her the evening before and she welcomed this unspoken sign she was on her way to being forgiven.

'Fair enough. Anomen and Aerie, I was hoping you two could perhaps ask about the temples or at the Order.'

Anomen nodded once. 'As you wish.'

'Ah...' Fritha paused. That left that Haer'Dalis, Nalia and Minsc and though nothing had been expressed in words, she had the distinct impression since the prison that Nalia and the bard did not get on. 'You had best go with Anomen and Aerie as well, Haer'Dalis,' she finished firmly, feeling her stomach twinge as the elf's eyes lit up. Well, the group came first. 'And that leaves Minsc and Nalia.'

'We can ask about the guilds,' said Nalia with her first smile of the morning and Fritha felt her rather deliberate pairings had not gone unnoticed. She nodded.

'Okay, if we all meet back here for lunch to discuss what we've found, if anything, unless you are busy with work, of course.' She glanced to Jaheira as she stood, half eaten apple in hand. 'Are you ready to go?'

xxx

Jaheira smiled slightly as she walked along the wide sunlit street that was the Bridge District, even the bustle of the surrounding stalls not irritating her as it usually did, the towers of the Council Buildings just visible over the rooftops to the north.

Of course, she had _not_ been ready to go when Fritha had asked her back at the tavern, having only joined the table but a few moments before, and she made the girl sit down as well to eat a proper meal before they set off, the group about them laughing as Fritha pretended to glower at her, poking sulkily at the porridge she had been served.

The girl was walking next to her now, absently singing a merry song of love to herself as they made their way across the bridge, looking bright and fair in the sunshine. Jaheira sent her a measured look. Her suspicions had been mounting for some time now as to whether Fritha's friendly interest in the newest member of their group was a symptom of some deeper regard.

'And why are _you _in such a good mood?' she demanded finally, more to see what the girl would say than in hope of learning anything.  
Fritha glanced to her, seemingly surprised she had noticed before shrugging.

'I don't know, I'm just happy.'

Jaheira raised a stern eyebrow.

'You do not know _why_ you are grinning like a loon.'

But Fritha just shook her head, still beaming and the druid felt her stomach groan; Fritha may be unwilling to admit anything, but Jaheira had been in the world long enough to be able to read the signs.

'Oh, Fritha, really, not the _bard_! I am sure you could do considerably better than him! Even the _squire_ would prove better company, at least _he_ is trustworthy.'

Fritha had looked set to deny everything until Jaheira's mention of the priest, her laughter clearly overwhelming any dissent she had planned.

'_Anomen_?' she cried with incredulous amusement. 'It would be worth the embarrassment of me suggesting it just to see the look on his face! The poor man would likely die laughing, as long as he survived the initial shock, that is. Besides,' she continued, turning back to their path with a furtive smile, 'I don't know why you seem to think Haer'Dalis should have any influence on my mood, good or otherwise. I am just happy to be back in the city and looking for work with my favourite druid. Come on,' she laughed, tugging her sleeve playfully, 'join in!'

And the girl continued her song, a touch more loudly than before as well, the slight laughter that wavered behind the tune only making it more endearing. People were glancing to them as they passed, some seeming to appreciate more than just the singing and Jaheira found it hard not to smile; whatever the reason for her apparent joy, the girl was certainly looking better for it, smiling in a bright way that made her look closer to her age than experience and circumstance usually allowed her.  
It had been too long since she had seen Fritha properly happy; she only hoped that its root would not also be its end.

'Hail there, ladies,' came a voice, and Jaheira glanced up to see a member of the Amnian Watch beckoning to them, heavy leather armour strapped tightly over his scarlet tunic. Fritha stopped her song abruptly, throwing a glance to her as they approached and looking a touch embarrassed as he continued. 'You are just passing through the district?'

The druid nodded curtly.  
'Yes, is there a problem?'

'Not for you, I am sure,' he said, his eyes taking in their weapons, 'I am just making it my business to warn all who pass this way to be on their guard and report any suspicious activity to the Watch, another body was discovered early this morning and I don't have enough men to patrol the area regularly.'

Fritha looked instantly alarmed.  
'Another body? What do you mean?'

'You new in the city?' he asked, seeming to know they were without any answer. 'Well, that's fair enough; the last killing was about a month ago now, which makes six since Ches. Someone is murdering the street people in and around the bridge.'

Jaheira raised an eyebrow.  
'And you seem to think these killings are related.'

The man laughed grimly.  
'Oh, I know they are, each of the bodies was found the same way; stripped, lain out neatly as though ready for burial and minus most of their skin.'

'Their _skin_? That's monstrous!' cried Fritha and Jaheira shared her dismay, though not her surprise. Whoever this murderer was, they were clearly disturbed, yet such things could only be expected when people insisted on cramming themselves into the unnatural madness that were cities. The guard nodded, continuing gravely.

'I am inclined to agree with you, miss, but without proper patrols of the area I fear we do little more than reduce the frequency of the attacks. A local merchant has put up a reward of five hundred gold for the killer, dead or alive, but there haven't been any takers to my knowledge.'

'Until now,' muttered Fritha, throwing her a glance, eyebrows raised, and Jaheira nodded her agreement, the girl continuing. 'We could look into this for you, if you wish; we have been known to deal with such matters in the past.'

'Truly?' he exclaimed, looking in the same moment both surprised and hopeful. 'Well, I'll lend you any assistance I can; I'll just be glad to see the district safe again.'

'Do you have any clues concerning the murders?' asked Jaheira. They had to start somewhere after all. The guard shook his head, but the hopeful look remained.

'Indeed no, but plenty of people about here have seen things. One of the local prostitutes found the last body back in Eleasias and we haven't moved the latest victim if you wish to have a look.'

Fritha nodded once. 'Lead on.'

xxx

Aerie sighed to herself, a smile playing on her lips as she sat on a wall in the Temple District, the canal a bright blue beneath her, Haer'Dalis stood on the opposite side and staring up at the lightning cages outside the temple of Talos.

She, Haer'Dalis and Anomen had left the inn some hours ago, visiting the temple of Illmater first, at her insistence, for their beliefs were close to her own and there was no shrine to Baervar within the city. But there was no work to be found there, and the three had moved on to the Temple District proper, visiting the Helmites and the temple of Lathander without luck, before Anomen had disappeared through the gates of the Order, leaving the pair outside to wait for his return.

Aerie gazed across the path, letting her eyes drift over the man before her, the look of dark fascination he wore as he watched the lightning crackle and leap making her heart quicken. He was so worldly, so travelled, always with some tale of the planes, or poem for her. Something which only _she_ seemed to appreciate, Aerie considered, mildly irritated on his behalf by the unfailing amusement of the others whenever he would recite some verse before them. Yet his ignorance of the Prime was endearing too, and she liked the idea that they could learn from each other.

He glanced back to her, catching her watching him and sending her a grin, Aerie glad that he had turned back to the temple as she felt her cheeks burn. She thought she would have grown accustomed to him by now, but it had been the same ever since she had first seen him in Mekrath's dungeon, the slightest glance from the bard enough to leave her flushed and breathless.

And yet, it was more than just an infatuation. She had always felt like an outsider, ever since she had been taken from her home all those years ago. But there was something about him, perhaps the idea that he was so different from everyone as well, that made her feel as though she belonged, as though she was no longer alone and she could not bear the idea of losing the feeling again, not so soon after leaving the circus.  
The circus.

That had been the last time she had felt so enamoured too, and her thoughts returned unbidden to Hollin, the fair half-elven acrobat who had joined their troupe for the season one spring years ago now. Always so full of life and fun, he had made it clear he'd held regard for her. But though she had returned his feelings, she had been timid and hesitant too; encouraging his companionship as much as she shied from it, and the boy had tired of the confusion in the end and did not stay with them once the circus had made camp for the winter.

Aerie had regretted him and her unfounded reluctance for a long time afterwards; it was a mistake she was determined not to make a second time.

'You are melancholy, my dove?' came a voice and she glanced up to find Haer'Dalis walking back to her with a concerned look.

She shook her head, smiling again.

'No, no, I am fine.'

He smiled as well, gesturing back to the temple before them, lightning still arcing about the spherical cages.  
'Beautiful, isn't it.'

The effect _was_ rather pretty, though she was sure that was not their intention, the cruel religion more focused on the more destructive qualities of storms and Aerie frowned slightly.

'They don't worship its beauty, they like the destruction, the chaos…'

She trailed off, suddenly aware that they sounded like the sort of people Haer'Dalis may have got on quite well with.

'They are murderers,' she finished firmly, glad for a fact that separated the Talosians from the man, though he did not seem to notice her words, glancing to something behind her and she turned to see Anomen walking across the canals towards them.

'You have a quest for us, knightling?' Haer'Dalis called, the squire nodding, though he waiting until he had reached them to answer, his voice low.

'I have just been speaking with a friend of mine, Sir Erick. A friend of his uncle's family has a problem which a need for discretion has kept him or any other knight from undertaking and he believes that we, unknown as we are, may be of help. The family's only daughter is missing and it is believed she has absconded with her lover. They are looking for means of locating her.'

'And without drawing attention to the fact she was ever gone, I'll warrant,' Haer'Dalis laughed, the sound of the temple bells striking highsun almost drowning him out. 'Well, they have found it. Come, my birds, Fritha will be as happy with this task as any other; noon sounds and we should return to the inn.'

Prompt though they were, they were still the last to arrive, the others already seated at the table they had shared at breakfast, dishes before them and a large ceramic pot of soup at their centre. Fritha glanced up at their arrival, giving them a friendly wave and Haer'Dalis immediately sank into the empty chair next to her, much to Aerie's chagrin. Anomen took the seat next to him, and the elf was left with little choice but to take the spare chair between him and Nalia, Aerie sinking into it tentatively, the girl to her left taking a sudden and keen interest in her food.

Aerie sighed as she served herself some broth, wondering when things had gone so wrong between her and Nalia. She had never intended to slight the girl, but it was as though when the bard entered the room, she just couldn't even_ see_ anyone else. Aerie glumly pulled her mind away from their fractured relations, turning her attention to the table where Jaheira was telling them of the task she and Fritha had found, Minsc and Nalia still looking for work, it seemed.

'Apparently, the murders have been occurring since Ches, though they cannot be sure of the numbers. Captain Aegisfield worries many of the bodies could have been missed or dumped in the river.'

Next to her, Anomen nodded grimly.

'Yes, I had heard through the Order there was a murderer roaming the Bridge District, but I had not realised the killings were the work of someone so perverse.' He glanced briefly to Fritha, his look concerned. 'You say you viewed the latest body; how was it?'

Fritha winced slightly, firmly rubbing her abdomen.

'Pretty horrible. It soon became apparent this was the one morning when I really _shouldn't_ have had breakfast.'

A slight smile travelled the table even in face of this grim subject and Aerie felt a stab of jealousy; the girl was witty even when she wasn't trying to be.

'Hopefully, Jaheira and I can catch him before he finds another victim,' Fritha continued more brightly, 'but, what of you? How did you fair at the Order?'

And so Anomen related to the table what he had told them outside the temple, Aerie only half listening as she played with her broth, her mind dwelling on matters closer to her heart. Why had Haer'Dalis sat immediately next to Fritha?

He had seemed so wholly devoted to her all morning, but was that merely because she was the only one there? Did he, if given a choice, prefer the girl's company? It had been the same at breakfast as well, the bard hardly sparing her a glance once Fritha had arrived at the table.

Aerie frowned, trying to allay these feelings of unease. Perhaps he just wished to speak with Fritha; the girl was entertaining, after all. But this was a thought that provided the elf with little comfort, especially as she glanced up to find the pair deep in conversation once more. The talk of work had moved on now; Jaheira advising Minsc and Nalia on which guilds may prove more fruitful, while Fritha and Haer'Dalis were caught in a strange discussion that seemed to be about language, Anomen watching the pair in silence, and Aerie could just hear them over the din of the tavern around her.

'Imoen and I used to make lists of them; well, I say _we_, I think she was just humouring me for the most part. She never found languages as interesting as I did. But we would make the lists together all the same. Words we liked, words we didn't, words that sounded like what they are.'

'You mean onomatopoeia?' interjected the bard, but Fritha shook her head.

'No, no, they're easy. Words that sound like their meanings are a lot less straightforward. For the most, part you have to feel your way and, of course, it's open to interpretation. Like _lustre_, it has a sheen, that word. And _cove_, a word of shelter. Ah, and _lush_, a verdant word; you can hear the whisper of wet grasses in it, can't you?'

Haer'Dalis made no reply, but he was smiling broadly, gazing at her as though he could not quite believe she was there, not that Fritha had noticed, her mind still intent upon her words, it seemed.

'But _death_…' she continued thoughtfully, 'death doesn't sound like it should; it doesn't have enough weight to it. Death should sound like- like _tome_. A heavy grave word.'

She was nodding solemnly to herself, and Aerie could hear the tiefling's amusement in his voice.

'And what of other words, say _bard_ perhaps?'

The girl glanced up sharply, but after a moment she just shrugged, mildly going back to her soup.

'It doesn't work for most words; that's why the game was fun.'

Aerie frowned as Haer'Dalis went back to his broth as well, seemingly not offended by this abrupt end to their conversation. That Aerie was unsure of the bard's feelings was true enough, but that was nothing when she compared them to Fritha's.  
The girl was always very friendly, especially to newcomers, but there was something about the way she was relating to Haer'Dalis that made her feel wary.  
Did Fritha perhaps hold an affection for him as well?

Aerie sincerely hoped not, because she did not want to lose another friend in this, and for a moment she considered stepping aside for the sake of their friendship, the awful circumstance of having to travel in the group with the pair as a couple, watching, dejected, while they shared the looks and kisses she herself had dreamt of.

Aerie swallowed, feeling instantly very emotional and _very_ silly. She would have liked to take things slower, but Fritha's interest complicated things. Haer'Dalis would have to choose between them in the end, all Aerie could was open up to him and make her regard as plain as possible. At least then, she would not have to suffer the same regrets of before, even if her heart _was _broken.

xxx

Anomen walked along the quiet cobbled street, the sound of Haer'Dalis and Aerie chattering following him as the three made their way through the well-kept houses of the more affluent south-eastern quarter of the city.

It had been pleasant to meet with Erick once more, for his friend had been away on campaign the last time he had visited the Order and he had missed their companionship long before he had left for Fritha's company. Erick's knighthood had thrown up something of a wall between them and one Anomen was now quite willing to admit was more his doing than his friend's. His own feelings of resentment and inadequacy had made him shy from the man's company, unwilling to hear of the acts of valour he had performed under the Order's banner.

But though he was still no knight, Anomen felt a certain pride in the tasks his group undertook. The destruction of the Beholder Cult had brought him quite a bit of repute within the Order and though their latest task did little to help the citizens of Amn, there was a certain confidence that came from travelling to other planes and slaying demons. And whereas before, he would have been eager to tell the man of his quest and prove his worth, Anomen found himself reluctant to speak much of it when Erick had asked him about his recent adventures, suddenly not needing the man to know of his deeds; that he had done them was enough.

In fact, he considered crossly as the two behind him laughed loudly, the only regret he had from freeing the actors was that they had only received Haer'Dalis's company for their trouble. Anomen glanced back to the pair, Aerie gazing at the bard adoringly as he spoke, a hand resting casually upon her arm. That they held a regard for each other was obvious; Fritha really should have split the pair up. Or at least not sent them with _him_, he considered, as Aerie giggled again in a most irritating manner.

Anomen frowned as he thought back to lunch at the inn. After Fritha's rather odd conversation with Haer'Dalis had ended, Aerie had caught his attention and she and the bard had spent the rest of the meal talking across him, much to his annoyance, Fritha offering him a commiserating smile as she finished her soup and escaped off to the Bridge District with Jaheira.  
Anomen understood that sending Haer'Dalis with Nalia might not have been conducive to the smooth running of their group as it stood at the moment, but why couldn't Fritha have taken the bard with _her_?

He sighed, pulling his mind away from his irritation as they finally arrived at the correct house, the squire knocking firmly on the heavy wooden door, and it opened a moment later to reveal a young housemaid of about eighteen summers, the girl still drying her hands on her slightly crumpled apron, mousey curls tied neatly under a starched linen scarf.

'Yes sir?' she came tentatively and Anomen smiled.

'Good afternoon, I am Anomen Delryn of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart. I am here to speak with Pallas Cornwell.'

The girl brightened slightly.  
'Oh yes, sir. We had a messenger earlier saying to expect you. Please, follow me.'

She let the door swing wide, turning to lead them down a hallway past several doors and into an airy high-ceilinged room, the walls painted a cool shade of blue and the furniture within all looking very new. The maid bade them sit, disappearing as soon as they had, though it was only a moment before Anomen was on his feet again, standing politely as the maid re-entered, a broad dark-haired man and petite blond woman both of middling years following her and Aerie hurried to stand as well, a moment passing before the tiefling reluctantly followed suit.

'Thank you, Avis,' the man nodded and the maid bobbed a timid curtsey, before hurrying out, shutting the door quietly behind her.

'I thank you all for coming,' Pallas began once they were all seated once more, his voice holding a firmness that belied the fatigue on his face, 'these last few days have been a very trying time for Dinah and I.' The woman next to him stifled a sob, pressing a handkerchief to her thin lips and he patted her hand gently. 'What do you know of our daughter's abduction?'

'A-Abduction?' came Aerie gently with a surprise that mirrored Anomen's own, 'I thought she, well, ran away.'

'She did not run away!' his wife burst out suddenly, her red-rimmed eyes wide. 'Helenya was happy here. She never would have left us had she not been corrupted by that wretch, Lirsand!'

'Dinah, please,' Pallas soothed, though there was a steel behind his words. 'I fear my wife is correct though. Our daughter is young and cannot understand the consequences of her actions. Lirsand is a thief and a scoundrel who has exploited Helenya's naivety, poisoning her against a family who loves her.'

'But why?' asked Aerie, even more quietly than before, the memory of the woman's previous outburst clearly still fresh in her mind.  
Pallas frowned grimly.

'Why for money, of course; we are wealthy, he is not. Helenya is our only child and stands to inherit everything. When we found out they had been meeting, we tried to make her see reason, but she is a child and does not understand the harsh realities of the world yet. She refused to believe the thief could ever use her so, and when we tried to press our case, he stole her away. Perhaps he hopes to ransom her back to us, or- I do not know!' he finished with frustration. 'I only wish for my daughter back.'

They spoke little after this, Pallas merely detailing the last time he saw his daughter and what she had taken with her in hope this would lead to some clue as to where the thief could have hidden her, before they all rose and moved back out into the hall. He and his wife excused themselves as the maid, Avis, arrived, the girl leading them politely back along the hall, though she paused before they reached the end, hastily pushing open the door next her and turning back to them.

'M-Might I speak with you all a moment?' she asked, her voice little over a whisper. Anomen nodded once and she disappeared through the door, the others at his back as he followed her into a well kept kitchen, a fire crackling in the hearth, copper pans hung neatly on the chimneybreast above and gleaming brightly.  
Avis drew a deep breath, wringing her apron nervously and glancing to the door as she began.

'I would not say anything, but you are from the Order, sir,' here she nodded respectfully to Anomen, 'and I know you can be trusted to act justly. It is about Helenya, and well, Lirsand.'

'You knew him?' asked Anomen, noting her use of the name.

'Not as such, sir, but I was good friends with Helenya, and her leaving was not at all how the master painted it.'

'You were listening in?'

A blush crept into her cheeks, though her voice remained firm.

'No sir, but I know well enough what will have been said. The boy corrupted their daughter, charmed her away from her parents.' She shook her head, her timidity giving way to a sudden passion. 'But Lirsand loved Helenya, truly! I could have shown you his letters had they not burnt them all when they found them.'

Avis sighed, regaining her composure to drop her voice, sending another furtive glance to the door as she continued.

'This family is new to money, their business only just came good last year and it has made fools of them. They moved from their home in the docks, Helenya taken away from all her old friends; suddenly she was _too good_ for them. The master's words, not Helenya's, for she was desperate lonely and no number of fine dresses would change that. She befriended me soon after I was hired, as we are of a similar age, and we would sneak out together at night, go back to all her old haunts in the docklands; that is how she got to meet Lirsand.

'They say he's a thief,' Anomen pressed but the girl just shrugged, clearly deeming that of little consequence.

'He might well be that, but he loved her and she him and they were content enough to wait until she was old enough to marry without her parents' blessing.'

'Then, what happened?' came Aerie behind Anomen, Avis glancing to him for approval before answering the elf.

'The mistress was in Helenya's room one day while she was out, found the love letters he had sent her and, by Tempus, you should have seen the woman's rage. Suddenly, the house was full of talk of sending Helenya to school in Waterdeep and getting the Watch after Lirsand if they did not stop their trysts. I don't know if they were just threats or plans, but they had an effect -though I'll warrant not the desired one,' she added darkly. 'A tenday later and Helenya was gone.'

'And you do not know where?' Anomen asked sternly, watching her carefully for some hesitation, but the girl just shook her head, suddenly sad.

'No sir. I expect she thought she was protecting me by not saying, though I wish she had. I am worrying for her something terrible and though her parents were hard on her, I know that they are too.'

xxx

Haer'Dalis sat back in his chair, his food untouched as he gazed about the tavern around him, watching the other patrons as another brief scene in the story of their lives played out.

He, Aerie and the knightling had returned to the slums an hour ago, Nalia and Minsc already at a table and they had joined them, eventually ordering food, though Haer'Dalis was not particularly hungry. He had never been sure whether it was the influence of his heritage or not, but he'd never had much of an appetite, or indeed the same need for food most other people had, and could quite happily exist for days without eating a thing.

He sighed, dropping his attention to his dish to push the rice about half-heartedly; there was no denying it, glad though he was to no longer be the focus of a murderous cambion, life was certainly much quieter than he was used to on the Prime. Still, he considered, trying to bring himself round slightly, spending the afternoon with Aerie had been a pleasant distraction, and this row with the children could prove to be interesting, depending on how it played out.

Haer'Dalis was well aware that they had been hired to return the girl to her overbearing parents rule, but once located perhaps they could instead help the young lovers to escape her family's clutches! He sent a smile to the elf next to him, pleased to get one in return before the girl went back to her conversation with Anomen.  
The knightling would more than likely be against that idea, but Aerie would undoubtedly be with him and Haer'Dalis couldn't imagine Fritha agreeing to drag some girl away from her sweetheart either. The family would be broken, the children free, chaos consuming the previous order of their lives and the planes were one step closer to oblivion.

Haer'Dalis smiled, cheered again, glancing up from his dish to see Jaheira descending the stairs into the tavern to join the table at last, the bard glancing round her for sign of Fritha, ready to continue their talk from before, though it seemed the druid was alone.

'Where is the raven? She is not with you?' he asked as she sat down, realising too late he probably should have greeted her first; ah, the primes and their pointless formalities.

Jaheira sent him a dark look before turning to tell the table, 'I left _Fritha_ on the bridge an hour ago, with plans to visit the theatre.' She glanced back to him to add, 'I believe she is viewing the auditions.'

'Auditions?' he repeated, rising from his chair, certain they would be a world more interesting than sitting there watching the others eat, 'then she will surely have need of this sparrow.'

At his side, Aerie dropped her eyes to her cup and said nothing.

'Fare thee well, my birds,' he called genially, and an assortment of replies drifting after him as he turned from the table to make for the doors.

The air outside was finally cooling as the sun dropped beneath the rooftops and he felt he could almost taste the promise in the air. He had a new troupe to play in, a new role to perform and perhaps even a new leading lady if he had read the signs correctly. Perhaps even a choice…

Raelis's rejection had been hard to bear and it was nice feeling, being reminded that he was not so undesirable a companion as she had perhaps once made out.

Aerie's affections he was surer of, indeed, the girl seemed so brim full of honesty it was hard to imagine she could have hidden her regard even if she had wanted to. That she was fair was an attraction in itself, but she also was very different to him, all innocent goodness and hope, and it was something that only seemed to make her all the more appealing.

And then there was Fritha, no less beautiful in her own way, all dark eyes and wild hair, with her easy smile and that bright sharp spark of wit. But she was much harder to read and he was never sure whether what he saw of her was merely the friendship offered to any new member of her company, or the surface of something deeper.

He thought back to their conversation that noon. On the delightfully grave way she had considered the words, on the fact she had even thought about it! Fritha was much more interesting than the usual primes and that afternoon he had found himself considering the words he had heard and said; the sound of them, the way they felt on his tongue, searching for a few more to present her with.

He had reached the bridge by now, the district about him a bustle of merchants closing up their stalls for the night. The Five Flagons looked warm in the dying sunlight and his thoughts drifted briefly back to Raelis and the time he had spent there with the troupe, wondering absently what she was doing at that very moment. But he pulled his mind away before he could consider the thing further. He had made his decision in the prison; he must press on with the future and all it held, and with that he pushed open the door and entered the inn.

The theatre was hushed saved for one clear voice ringing out and he descended the stairs to find the troupe Higgold had secured gathered on one side of the auditorium, Fritha and Higgold stood on the other, all watching the golden-haired elven woman on stage performing her audition, smoothly enunciating her lines with an almost jaded ease.

Haer'Dalis smiled, using the distraction to move silently down the central aisle and along the row behind Fritha's, stopping at her shoulder and still unnoticed as the elf finished and a round of half-hearted clapping travelling the troupe, only Higgold showing any enthusiasm as he left his bench to hurry down to the stage, his affected tones ringing out as he applauded dramatically.

'Oh bravo, Iltheia, bravo, a very emotive performance.'

'Emotive? More like emetic,' the girl muttered darkly, and he could not quite suppress a snort of amusement, Fritha whirling back and looking intensely relieved it was he who had overheard her.

'Haer'Dalis,' she scolded, pretending to bat his arm as he stepped over the bench between them to stand next to her, 'you frightened the life out of me!'

'Guilty conscious?' he inquired innocently and she grinned, flushing pink.

'_Perhaps_. Anyway, why are you here? Are the others with you?'

Haer'Dalis shook his head.

'This sparrow alone has come to your aid. The druid told me you were here; how go the auditions?'

She shrugged, turning back to the stage.

'Well, we've found all the minor roles and Zeran's playing the male lead, Velden,' she answered, pointing to a tall handsome human of dark blonde hair and middling years. 'It's just the role of Karenina we're having trouble with. I've seen almost every woman in the company. One more to go and then I'm going to start auditioning the men again. I hear they can work wonders with the right make-up.'

'Really, my raven,' he laughed, the girl looking quite enchanting as she tried to hide her own smile in her sleeve.

'You're not tempted by the role yourself then?' he continued, already knowing her answer, though her bluntness surprised him.

'No,' she said shortly, glancing back to the script in her hand without a hint of coyness, 'you know as well as I, I would be awful. Who's next, Higgold?'

The director glanced back to her as Iltheia swept from the stage.

'Ah, Jenna, Lady Patron, but- well, she's just finishing in wardrobe. Tell me,' he continued carefully, his voice dropping as he walked back to them, 'what did you think of Iltheia?'

Fritha's face was a mask.

'She seemed nice enough. As I said, I would see all auditions before making a decision.'

'Yes, yes, of course,' he agreed quickly, slyly watching her face he continued, 'I'm sure she understands, she has been an actress for decades now. You know, she has quite the reputation in Waterdeep; we are very lucky to have her in the troupe.'

'I'm sure her reputation is well-deserved,' continued the girl evenly and Haer'Dalis could hear the disapproval behind her words, though Higgold seemed to brighten. 'Could you go and hurry Jenna along please?'

'Certainly, Lady Patron,' he smiled, bustling off and Fritha sighed tersely.

'This Iltheia,' Haer'Dalis questioned, using the need for discretion to close what little gap there was between them, his voice low, 'you did not appreciate her performance?'

'Oh, she was all right,' the girl conceded quietly. 'A little overly dramatic for my tastes, all talk and no feeling; in fact, I was rather given the impression she was bored with the piece. It was more her attitude that gives me paused though. She got on everyone's bad side within about three seconds of walking onto stage by demanding complete silence in the auditorium so she could "centre her muse", and then she spent the next five minutes insisting the crew re-set the angle of the lights because they were _dazzling_ her. I'll warrant the only reputation she has in Waterdeep is that of a silly Prima Donna,' she finished with a smile he shared, the tiefling placing a hand lightly on the small of her back, though she stiffened instantly and he removed it feeling a touch injured.

'I meant nothing by it.'

'No, I know,' she conceded gently, still looking a touch uncomfortable, 'it's just people don't usually lay hands upon each other so casually here.'

Haer'Dalis shook his head.

'You Primes are a strange lot, though perhaps I am making too sweeping a generalisation here, my raven,' he continued with a furtive glance to her, 'for Aerie certainly does not seem as averse to my hand as you.'

He had meant it to rile her, hoping to see a little of the jealousy he suspected was there and confirm her feelings for him. But apart from a momentary surprise, Fritha remained impassive, nodding absently as she turned back to the stage.

'Well, she is an elf; I imagine they are brought up differently to the human cultures, and even within those the customs differ greatly. Ah, Jenna isn't it?' she continued genially to the fair, brown-haired girl who had just walked onto the stage, wringing the sleeves of her dark blue dress and looking nervous. Fritha smiled kindly. 'In your own time, dear.'

The girl nodded once, clearly steeling herself, and began.

That she stumbled over her lines here and there was true, and her gestures seemed a little forced in parts, but her nerves seemed to add rather than detract from the gentle innocence of the role, and the girl was young; Haer'Dalis could see the potential for greatness within her. He glanced to Fritha, gazing up at the stage, nodding now and then as though making note of something and when the girl had finished she smiled broadly.

'Thank you, Jenna.'  
The girl nodded politely and hurried from the stage, Fritha turning to Higgold.  
'Are there any more to audition?'

'Ah no, my lady.'

Fritha turned to the troupe, who were all watching her with looks that were a little too nonchalant, and Haer'Dalis suspect this choice of leading lady could be a contentious one.

'Right, if you could just give us a few moments, please,' she called politely, waiting until they had all filed backstage before turning back to Higgold, suddenly earnest. 'I liked Jenna.'

Higgold frowned slightly, clearly considering the most tactfully way to disagree with her.  
'Yes, my patron, a very, ah, _nice_ performance, but she did seem rather nervous.'

Fritha shrugged mildly.  
'That will pass as she rehearses.'

'Well, yes, quite,' continued Higgold, 'but there are some within the troupe who have much more experience than she.'

'You refer to Iltheia? The only thing I can see she has had ample experience of is getting her own way. Her performance was flawless as it was soulless.'

Higgold frowned again but nodded all the same.  
'I will concede that perhaps she was not giving her all to the audition, but consider the presence she could bring to this production.'

Haer'Dalis was surprised at the way Higgold seemed ready to accept the actress's attitude because of her apparent fame. If the woman had considered the audition beneath her effort, then that alone would have given _him_ cause not to allow her the role and Fritha remained similarly unmoved.

'A presence that can serve just as well in a secondary role. Jenna is in earnest. She cares about the role. Iltheia cares only that she has the lead, and I am loathed the feed her ego even more by giving it to her.'

'But, Lady Patron, consider-'

Fritha sighed, smiling faintly.  
'We are both set, it seems. The deciding vote is yours then, sparrow.'

Haer'Dalis smiled through his surprise; he was quite happy to give the decision his consideration, though he could not help but be flattered that she would value his opinion as highly as he himself did. Higgold though did not, it seemed.

'You are just letting _him _decide? What does he know of the theatre?'

'More than me,' she answered evenly, not even sparing the man a glance. 'Just speak your mind, Haer'Dalis, I shall not hold it against you if you side with Higgold.'

Her voice was mild, her look open and in that moment he would have said anything to please her, though, with luck, on this occasion his true opinion allowed him such.  
'Well, my raven, I hold with you. Jenna is the one.'

She nodded once.  
'That's settled then. Come now, Higgold,' she smiled kindly, as the director gave a disgruntled sigh, 'did you really want to spend the next six months dancing to Iltheia's whims?'

That seemed to bring the man round slightly and he nodded, gracious in defeat.  
'No, no, you are correct, my patron. We do not need such upsets for our first performance either.'

Fritha's smile broadened.  
'Good, then we are in agreement. Call them back in please, Higgold, _I_ shall tell them the decision; it will serve better if Iltheia sees you as blameless in this.'

He seemed about to protest, but perhaps the thought of Iltheia's wrath entered his mind, for after a moment he nodded, Haer'Dalis watching him hurry off backstage before turning to the girl at his side, Fritha glancing to him with a grin.  
'And you were worried about the _Duke_.'

xxx

Fritha's predictions were correct, in that the elf had quite a few things to say on the matter of her decision. But she held fast, using a combination of firmness and flattery to coax the elf into accept the secondary role of the maid, and although not pleased the woman was at least mollified.

For the moment, in any case, Fritha considered darkly, sure she had not heard the last of it. Still, she could not regret her decision, not in the face of Jenna's joy, the girl bursting in to tears as soon as the announcement had been made, and the troupe's young harpist, Marcus, was still sat with her, trying calm her with some wine when Fritha and Haer'Dalis left.

They were in the slums now, walking back to the Coronet in comfortable silence, the evening air cool and still about them. Haer'Dalis was humming a tune she did not recognise under his breath, the composition much more dissonant than she was used to, though it was a nice melody albeit a haunting one. Fritha smiled slightly as she watched him walking next to her, pale in the twilight, his hair stained a dark indigo. She did like him, of that she was sure, but his regard for her…

She frowned slightly, trying to make some sense of the jumble of thoughts within her.  
His comment about Aerie had stung, and Fritha could not quite forget about how he had flirted with both her _and_ Aerie whilst still clearly holding affection for Raelis.

Perhaps it was all just a game to him, perhaps it was just what he did with pretty girls he met and he meant nothing by any of it, and Fritha was put in mind of the time when they were children, she had found Imoen outside the stables crying because one of Phlydia's cats had caught a bird.

The poor thing had hurt its wing and could not fly away, though it would make a valiant effort every time the cat released it, letting the bird flutter and stumble to just out of its reach before pouncing on it again. Imoen, stood watching helpless beneath, could not understand why the cat was being so cruel and Fritha had had no answer for her either, Phlydia finally arriving to shoo it off and explain gently that it was not cruelty, but instinct which drove the cat; it was just its way.

Perhaps it was the same with Haer'Dalis; he did not mean any of it unkindly, it was just his way.

_And would you be happy with that? Just flirting with him? Watching him flirt with others?  
_Fritha shrugged to herself, unsure either way. Such a situation seemed like one of those things that would look very straightforward on paper and be hideously complicated once people and feelings and all that nonsense got involved.  
Besides, there seemed little point in worrying about it at the moment, only time would tell whom he liked and just how much.

If it had just been her and he, she may have felt braver, but Aerie's interest had complicated things somewhat and Fritha decided the best course was to just step back and watch what happened, rather than pressing her affections and making an idiot of herself. Fritha shivered slightly. _Especially_ when the idea of even trying to take his_ hand_ right now, was making her break out in cold sweat.  
In the end, the choice would be Haer'Dalis's, and if he liked _her_ then it shouldn't really matter if Aerie or Nalia, or half the female population of Amn liked him.

He turned to give her a warm smile, eyes watchful behind the gesture and she smiled back, trying to show her affection on her face, though perhaps he saw only her worries there, for he frowned slightly.  
'Is something wrong?'

She shrugged.  
'Just thinking about the playhouse. You know it is the first theatre I have ever even _seen_ and suddenly it's mine and I'm organising a play for it. It all feels very strange.'

Haer'Dalis beamed, his tone almost condescending.  
'Do not fret, my raven, for I can see you have a gift for such things, and I shall always be around to give you the benefit of my talent and experience.'

Fritha laughed lightly; modesty was clearly _not _one of Haer'Dalis's strong points, but his confident air rather suited him.

'It is as I said before,' he continued gravely, ignoring her laughter, 'I hold with you.'

He was staring at her, his eyes intense, as though waiting for her to do something and she turned quickly back to the path ahead, suddenly embarrassed.

'Well, it is nice to know I am not alone in this,' she continued brightly. She could still feel his eyes on her though, and was wrestling with herself to turn back and- well, she hadn't quite got that far yet, but after a moment he turned away as well, his voice as bright and even as hers had been.

'No, I will help you in this venture. Have I told you of the time, my raven, when the Sigil troupe were performing in Tradegate…'

Fritha smiled, letting his voice drift over her, feeling glad she had not acted before. There was no need to rush into things and there was an enjoyment in just being friends. She drew in a breath of cool air, her worries giving way to a thrill of anticipation. That night seemed full of possibilities and she could sense a beginning in the air. Work had been found, she had a play to produce and a new friendship to nurture.

'My raven,' came his voice next to her and she glanced to him, his stern look not quite hiding the amusement in his eyes, 'you have that absent look again; you are not listening.'

She laughed warmly and shook her head.  
'I'm sorry. Start again, you have my full attention this time, I promise.'

He smiled slightly.  
'If it were anyone but you… Some years ago now, the Sigil troupe were performing in Tradegate…'


	21. Terms of engagement

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine. 

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Terms of engagement**

Anomen drained the last of his ale and set his cup down to pour himself some more from the jug next to him, ignoring the bustle of the tavern around him as the other patrons took their noon meal. He was sat at their usual table in the Coronet, Aerie and Haer'Dalis sat opposite, the bard leant back in his chair while the elf gazed up at him with a dreamy look as he told her yet _another_ tale of Sigil.

Anomen sighed, his mind drifting back to his plans for the day and their ongoing search for the runaways. He had discussed the task with the others last night while Fritha and the bard at been off at her theatre, Jaheira suggesting that the local thieves' guild would likely be the best place to start if he intended to look for Lirsand, and Fritha had encouraged him to arrange a meeting with the thief master once she had returned later that evening.

He had agreed with them and that morning's trip to the thieves' guild had gone more smoothly that he'd anticipated. Myrtle, the bright girl Fritha had instructed him to ask for, blithely telling him that Renal could give them a few moments that afternoon, just after the second bells, before bidding him a cheery farewell, and the three had returned to the inn to await the others.  
_Speaking of which…_

Anomen glanced up to see a familiar pair stood in the doorway opposite, Jaheira pointing their table out and Fritha sent them a wave and a smile as they approached, which, Anomen noticed, only he and the bard returned.

'Hello,' the girl greeted brightly as she sank into the empty chair next to him, 'how was the guild?'

'_Dull_,' sighed Haer'Dalis before Anomen could answer, the bard sending her a stern look as he continued, 'and not nearly as exciting as I had believed it would be from the description of your last visit.'

Fritha looked as though she was trying very much not to laugh, putting all her focus into pouring herself some ale and Anomen suspected she may have been trying to provoke some interest in the task from the bard with tales of their previous brawl.  
'Ah, Carter and his friends not there, eh?' she continued to him with an innocent smile and Anomen shook his head.

'Thankfully, no. We have an appointment to see Renal this afternoon. How goes your investigation?'

Fritha shrugged mildly, turning to pour Jaheira some ale as the druid answered him.  
'We have still to identify the piece of leather we found on the body yesterday, but we may have a suspect in an old woman of the area who has been rumoured to be practising witchcraft. We plan to locate her this afternoon.'

'Then we looked in on Higgold and the theatre,' Fritha continued as she set the jug back down and took a drink herself. 'Signed off some bills for props and looked over the costumes they plan on using, though some of them were a bit worn. I might head over there later to help Wynn and Jenna with the repairs.'  
Anomen smiled into his cup. He would never get used to the idea of Fritha the seamstress.

'Which play are they actually planning to perform?' he questioned politely and the girl sighed.

'The Sorcerer's Bane -only _please_ don't call it that in front of the troupe,' she added earnestly, 'one of the stagehands, Ketrick, was talking my ear off when I was there today, about the curse that apparently surrounds it.'

Jaheira snorted, a wry smile pulling at her mouth.  
'Of all the plays you had to choose from, you just _had_ to pick one with a curse on it.'

'Hey, don't lay this on me!' Fritha countered sharply, a grin warming her tone. 'It was that fop, Higgold, who chose it, and he didn't mention anything about a curse at the time either!'

'Well, what are you supposed to call it then?' asked Anomen.

'What about The _Fritha's_ Bane?' offered Haer'Dalis mildly and the girl in question snorted.

'Very funny. All the actors insist on calling it the Turmish play.'

'The Sor- er, Turmish play?' came Aerie tentatively, turning to the bard next to her, 'I don't think I've heard of it before. What's it about?'  
Haer'Dalis merely looked to Fritha though, and the elf had no choice but to follow suit as the girl answered her.

'It's a grand epic about the pride of a great sorcerer and the love that is his downfall, that is according to Higgold anyway. I'm not so keen on it myself.'

'You're not _keen _on it?' came Aerie with disbelief, seemingly before she could stop herself. 'It's a masterpiece of tragic love!'

'I didn't think you'd heard of it before,' Fritha laughed, though the elf did not share her amusement, colouring to drop her eyes to her cup as the girl continued. 'And, it is all right from what I have read, I just found some of the verses seem more concerned with keeping the pentameter and rhyme, than actually conveying the emotion of the scene. But plays aren't really my thing anyway.' She glanced to Haer'Dalis. 'What do you think?'

'I have not studied the play myself; though a prime _masterpiece_ it may be,' he confirmed and in a tone that suggested such an accolade wasn't worth much, 'it has yet to reach Sigil.'

Fritha smiled absently, taking another drink.

'Well, you can borrow my copy of the script if you want to see what all the fuss is about- ah, here come two welcome faces,' she called as the door slammed again and Anomen glanced up to see Nalia and Minsc weaving their way over to them. 'Any news?'

'Well,' sighed Nalia glumly as they took the final two seats in between Fritha and Aerie, 'we have managed to find a day's work for a local goldsmith, but it does not start until tomorrow.'

'Boo says it is better than nothing,' came Minsc, giving the girl's back a heartening pat that made her wince, the hamster in question watching Nalia from the ranger's shoulder and Fritha sent her a kind smile.

'I should listen to him, if I were you -and your timing's perfect,' she added with a laugh as the maid arrived to set a stack of dishes and large pot of soup in the centre of their table, Jaheira standing to ladle it out and Anomen let his eyes drift over the group as their meal began.

Aerie and Haer'Dalis were deep in conversation once more, as were Nalia and Fritha though the latter girl kept glancing over to the couple, Nalia leaning in to whisper something at her ear, the guilty way Fritha was laughing giving him the impression may not have been very nice as she turned back to the dish Jaheira had just set before her with a slight frown.  
'Isn't this the same soup they were serving yesterday?'

Nalia gave the contents of her own bowl a tentative stir with the spoon.

'Er, no, I don't think so. That was chicken. I'm pretty sure this is pigeon.'

'Really? I- I thought it was rabbit,' countered Aerie and a look he could not read passed between the two girls, while Jaheira muttered something about it probably being rat that reduced Fritha to a fit of laughter, the girl hiding her face behind her napkin until she had calmed down.

Anomen frowned as she finally quietened enough to be caught in conversation by the bard. He had noticed she had been in a very giggly mood at breakfast as well, and though he had thought the investigations in to the Bridge murders would sober her, it seemed he was mistaken and her cheerful air was putting him very much in mind of his younger sister.  
Dear Moira. Every time he pictured the girl, Helenya, his sister's form would swim into view and he wondered absently whether Moira had ever planned the same to escape their father's drunken malice.

But eventually he sighed and shook his head. Moira would never desert the man, and if she did, Anomen would only spend his time worrying about the company she was keeping, or whether she was in trouble. At least she was safe at home, however unpleasant the arrangements may be.  
He _must_ find the time to visit her soon…

'Er, Anomen?'

He glanced up to find Fritha watching him, Haer'Dalis looking annoyed that her attention was and remained elsewhere as she continued gently. 'Are you all right? You looked-'

'Yes, I am fine, my lady,' he cut in before she had a chance to finish, almost in hope of irritating her into not pressing this concern further. She frowned slightly, but continued nevertheless, the bard already back in conversation with Aerie.

'Are you thinking on the runaway, Helenya?'

Anomen nodded; he was surprised she had been able to tell.

'Yes. How did you know?'

The girl smiled wryly.

'Well, I could only guess at she or Renal and you weren't frowning, so I went with the former. You are worried for her?'

'A little,' he conceded with a sigh. 'I know how anxious I would be if my sister ran away as she has. Yet, I am not sure who to believe in all this. Her parents are clearly distraught by her absence, yet the maid seemed in earnest. Could it be that Lirsand tricked both her and Helenya in the sincerity of his feelings?'

Fritha shrugged mildly.

'Perhaps they are both telling the truth, at least, the truth as they see it. I find it is something very dependant on _who_ is looking at it at the time. Do not try to decide yet. Speak to Renal, see if you can locate Lirsand and just go from there.'

Anomen smiled. Her words were nothing he did not know himself, but they were heartening to hear all the same. He glanced up as the distant chime of the temple bells echoed along the street outside.

'The first bells. We should be leaving.'

Fritha smiled fondly as he rose, Haer'Dalis and Aerie moving to do the same.

'Give my best to Renal, won't you?'

He frowned but nodded once.

'My lady.'

xxx

The docks were just as they had left them, narrow grim terraces all infused with the scent of fish and salt. Haer'Dalis sighed to himself, watching the ships swaying in the harbour as they moved along the street, though it was not nearly as interesting as the Temple District had been, and he was beginning to wonder if that place wasn't just the exception to the rule in Athkatla; the most consistent point of interest within the city so far being flirting with the girls.

Though Aerie seemed a little prone to jealousy, all silences and dark looks, her young innocence was captivating, like a flower just waiting to be coaxed in to bloom. And perhaps she was not as unworldly as she was happy to let him believe, but even that held an appeal of its own, the girl expressing a continuing interest in his thoughts and opinions that was flattering.  
And then there was Fritha, who despite his best efforts, remained as stoic as a stone when it came to his attempts to trick some hint of jealousy or affection from her; the girl doing nothing that would seem out of place in any friendship, and he was beginning to wonder whether she even thought of him as anything more.

His mind drifted back to the last meal they had shared together. One moment they were engaged in an in-depth discussion on the crucial turning point of the play, 'Hugolith', she arguing it occurred with the protagonist's discovery of incest within the family history; he maintaining it was with his sister's marriage to his rival, when the squire suddenly got a more dour than usual look upon his face and she put it all aside to council _him_.

Fritha and the knightling's relationship was innocuous enough, Haer'Dalis was sure, but the moment had illustrated for him quite clearly that she had other responsibilities within that group, and with her friend stolen and work to find, he would not be her priority. Raelis had been the same, her writing and then the troupe taking up her time and thought, and he frowned as he considered the unfavourable comparison his unconscious had just made. He was not a superstitious man, but it was a bad omen nevertheless.

Indeed, should he ever manage to get past the formalities of custom she seemed to have hidden herself behind and _begin_ a relationship, she would no doubt expect more of him for it.  
But perhaps it would be worth it, he considered, letting her face swim into view, bright and passionate as they had discussed the play. Apart from the obvious attractions she held, Fritha had secrets in those dark eyes of hers, and ones that could prove all the more rewarding for his having to work for them.

They had reached the guild building by now, just as plain and grey as it had been that morning, though the dark clouds that now hung overhead did give a more ominous feel to the place and next to him Aerie shivered, the girl pulling her cloak about her more tightly.  
Haer'Dalis nodded slightly to himself; the air was cooler than it had been and he could smell rain in the air, not that either bothered him and he wondered absently how much of Aerie's discomfort came from the change in weather.  
He sent her a smile which she returned tentatively and together the three entered the guild.

Inside, Anomen step forward immediately to collar a passing thief.

'I would speak with Myrtle…' he commanded, adding a 'please' after a pause, the squire clearly undecided as to whether manners conveyed a respect of others or respect for oneself. The man nodded once and disappeared, Haer'Dalis letting his attention drift as he and Aerie waited in the gloom behind him.

The thieves' guild. He had at first been expecting something more like a Fated stronghold, a place of ruthless climbing and violence, but reality had found it ran with the same mild order as merchants' guild, with people coming in and out, reporting on their tasks and paying their fees, a scattering of clerks recording it all. Fritha's tale of threats and fights that breakfast had certainly made the place seem a lot more dangerous; the girl knew how to catch his imagination already, _and_ use it to her advantage, though whether he was pleased by this, he was not sure.

Mild though the place was, Aerie still looked wary though, sending a scowl to the small group of thieves sat on some crates just right of the door who had paused in their game of cards to look her over, the elf seeming to shrink visibly into her cloak as they laughed quietly. She had been the same that morning and it was clear she did not feel as comfortable working with the guild as perhaps some of the others. In fact, she and Anomen seemed the only ones wholly opposed to the place, and the bard felt himself smiling at the twist of fate that had sent them there.

Aerie though, could not see the irony in it, it seemed, and he took a step closer to her, tugging the corner of her cloak so she faced him and turned her back on the thieves that so distressed her.

'You are anxious, my dove,' he began, sending her a reassuring smile as he continued. 'I understand your reluctance, but it is the most sensible path to the information we seek.' He paused a moment before adding gently, 'I can tell the knightling we will await him outside though, if you cannot bear to stay.'

She merely shook her head though, an almost child-like determination creasing her brow and he nearly laughed, throwing an arm about her shoulders and feeling quite gratified as she leaned into the gesture. She trusted him to protect her, drew comfort from his presence and he could not help recalling Fritha's horror when he had _presumed_ to lay hands on her in the theatre.  
She never would have allowed him to soothe her so; he was always to be kept at a friendly distance.

The bard snorted wryly to himself as he released the elf. He suspected Fritha would not even have admitted to being _frightened_, hiding her feelings behind one of her many masks. She kept them all at a distance in that.

The warm and gentle Aerie, or the distant, but ever fascinating Fritha.  
A decision would have to be made soon; which path to travel, which one to pursue, for it was unkind to string both along indefinitely and not his intention. Such people ended up loosing both quarries and more besides; he had been that fool once and once was enough. But the matter of _which_ path to walk still remained…

'This way please,' came a voice before him, Haer'Dalis glancing up to see the young thief, Myrtle, stood before them and he could not resist giving her a wink, the bright girl giggling pleasantly as she turned to lead them up the stairs behind her and along a narrow hallway to a small office, the man he assumed to be Renal sat behind his desk, sharp-eyed and lithe even in his age, his smile as insincere as his genial surprise.

'Ah, members of Fritha's merry band, is it?' he greeted as they entered, resealing the scroll he had been looking over and turning his attention to them as they lined before him. 'Let us see, Anomen, Aerie and,' the thief's eyes narrowed as they fell on him, clearly trying to marry him with one of descriptions he had of their company. 'A new addition,' Renal concluded eventually, 'I hope fairly new as well, or I shall have to have words with my agents. And you are?'

'This sparrow?' Haer'Dalis confirmed with some affected surprise of his own, bowing politely as he answered, 'Haer'Dalis of Sigil. Fritha sends you her _warmest_ regards,' he added, merely for the pleasure of seeing the knightling's irritation. He was not disappointed.

The thief's smile widened though, suddenly genuine and for all his falseness, Haer'Dalis could see he held a true regard for the girl.  
'Ah, Fritha, such a pleasant young lady; understands the importance of the niceties,' he continued in a sterner tone, as though to point out that they did not. 'I assume since she is not present, you are looking _for_ information rather than imparting it.' He sighed slightly.  
'Well, though I am beginning to regret what has been a rather one-sided alliance so far, a deal is a deal. What can I do for you three?'

Anomen began at once, his tone clipped and lifeless.

'We are looking for a thief, a young man named Lirsand-'

'Ah, say no more,' Renal interrupted genially, 'I cannot help you.'

The squire frowned. 'He is not a member of the guild?'

Renal shook his head, smiling blandly.

'No, or I should say he is no longer. The boy stopped tithing about a tenday or so ago now. I assumed he had defected to this rival guild with so many others. Distressing,' the man sighed affectedly, 'but only as a symptom of a greater ill; the boy himself was just a pickpocket, and no real loss. So,' the thief continued, standing as he spoke and Haer'Dalis could sense their audience was at an end, 'I suggest you begin searching for this other guild if you wish to find him, and of course, should you find anything,' Renal smiled broadly, 'please be sure to let me know.'

xxx

Aerie pulled her cloak about her more tightly, a cool breeze blowing in from the sea as they made their way from the docks back to the Coronet, Anomen silent and brooding at their head, which she could understand for the meeting had hardly been helpful, while Haer'Dalis was next to her, whistling a tune to himself as they walked and she sent him a smile. Though the bard, unlike Anomen, did not seem to care much that they worked with the thieves, he had been understanding of _her _apprehension and she felt warm as she recalled his unexpected kindness towards her back at the guild, the feel of his arm about her lingering in her memory still.

For her part, Aerie was just glad to be out of there and away from Renal's watchful eye. Fritha's account had painted a far more alluring picture of the thief than Aerie had encountered, the man just as cold and ruthless but without the compassion the girl attributed to him, every word he seemed to utter somehow sounding like a veiled threat, the thief's dark gaze never resting anywhere overlong.

And it seemed it had been all for naught anyway. The boy was no longer a member of the guild, though that idea in itself pleased her and she could not help dwelling on the rather romantic possibility that he had given up his life of dishonesty and run away to make a fresh start with his love. But, wonderful though that would be, it still left them with no clue as to where to find the couple.

Aerie smiled to herself. They always used to get a few in the circus, children with their hearts set on running away with them for the life of a performer. Very few made it past a day before they realised the life was not for them, though some lasted long enough that their parents came to fetch them. Hardly any survived a whole season though, with the days of travelling and performance after performance. It was a hard life, but one not without its rewards and Aerie felt an unexpected longing for her former home. Perhaps they could turn their investigations there if nothing else presented itself; just to rule it out as a possibility, however unlikely.

They had reached the inn by now, Haer'Dalis sweeping in to hold the door open for her with a gallant bow that made her laugh and Anomen frown. Inside, Nalia and Minsc were still at the table, sat just where they had left them over two hours ago, the pair glancing up as they arrived and calling a greeting, though Aerie noticed the girl avoided her eye.

The three joined them and it seemed they had barely got settled and ordered drinks themselves when rain began to pat lightly against the grimy window next to them, steadily growing heavier and the tavern about them began to fill, the air growing humid as more and more people entered to escape the storm.

And it was not long after that when the final pair of their group arrived back, Fritha and Jaheira appearing at the door, both cloaked against the rains and looking flushed and breathless from what had clearly been a brisk pace back from the bridge. Jaheira headed straight for the stairs, but Fritha walked across to them, drawing back her hood and shaking the rain from the curls on her forehead.

'Hello, I'm going to the bar; anyone else for wine? Say so and I'll get a bottle.'

Nods of assent, and the girl slipped off her cloak, hanging it over one of the empty chairs before moving off to the crowded bar and Aerie felt her eyes follow her.

Though it had been playfully done, Aerie had thought it unkind of Fritha to draw attention to her ignorance, or lack thereof, concerning the play that noon, and the elf felt with growing certainty that it had been a sign of the girl's hidden esteem for the bard.  
Aerie sighed, feeling her embarrassment resurfacing as she recalled it. She did not mean to play the ingénue, but she liked Haer'Dalis so much; she just wanted to talk to him, have him tell her things, anything to grow closer to the man.

The elf glanced up to see Fritha weaving her way back through the crowded tables, returning more quickly than she would have expected with a large bottle of dark crimson liquid under her arm, her hands filled with extra cups.

'Okay, who'd like some?'

It turned out all but Minsc, and Aerie watched the bard watch Fritha as the girl handed the bottle to Anomen to open while she passed around the cups she'd brought.

'Nalia… Anomen… Aerie…'

'Thank you,' she replied as she received the small earthenware cup, feeling unsure of how to act around her now, and the girl smiled in reply, looking just as uncertain.

'You're welcome. And lastly, the sparrow- ah!' Fritha continued, passing Haer'Dalis his cup and jerking back her hand with a cry as a glint of static flashed between them.

'We made a spark, my raven,' he grinned, 'there must be a storm in the air.'

Fritha laughed, collecting the bottle back from Anomen to serve each of them some wine before sinking into the chair next to Minsc, taking a brief sip and opening her mouth as though to continue to the bard, Aerie interrupting before she could stop herself.

'S-So, how goes your investigation?'

'Well,' began Fritha, once over her surprise, 'we found the old woman easily enough, but it soon became apparent after talking to her she was by no means a murderer. And then it started hoying down,' she continued with a nod to the window and Aerie assumed she was referring to the rain, 'so we made a strategic retreat back here. Jaheira wants to return tonight and look for a prostitute who apparently found one of the bodies. So,' she continued, taking another mouthful of wine as she glanced around the table, 'what did Renal have to say?'

'That you were a pleasant young lady for a start,' Haer'Dalis began with a bark of laughter and Fritha looked delighted.

'Really? He actually said that?' she cried incredulously, flushing with pleasure as he nodded and Aerie frowned. Anomen was right; the girl really did hold the thief master in too high a regard.

Across the table, the squire's eyes had narrowed as well, Fritha seeming to notice and self-consciously tidying her hair as she turned politely to him.  
'And what did he say of Lirsand?'

Anomen straightened in his chair to answer her.  
'That the boy stop tithing some time ago and he believes him to be one of many who have deserted for this new guild. He suggests we turn our investigations on them.'

Fritha shrugged mildly, emptying her cup and moving to pour herself some more wine.  
'Oh, well. Where do you plan to look next?'

'Avis, the maid, said he and Helenya used to meet at a tavern in the west of the docks, near to where the Cornwell's used to live. I would suggest we try there after sunset, perhaps find some of their mutual acquaintances who are as worried for them as she.'

He glanced about for support of this plan and Aerie nodded her agreement. She would have never suspected one who could act so zealously to have such an analytical mind, but Anomen was really quite good at this.

'A fine idea,' Fritha concluded with a nod, turning instantly back to Haer'Dalis, eager and bright, 'so what else did Renal say?'  
The man laughed and Aerie frowned, though more irritated by his apparent amusement, than Fritha's interest in the guild master.

'Really, Fritha, you speak as though you are enamoured on the man,' she countered, instantly wishing she'd managed to soften the sharpness of her tone, but it hardly mattered anyway, Fritha just laughing merrily and everyone at the table seemed eager to hear her reply as she finished another mouthful, playfully tapping her chin as though considering the point.

'Well… I cannot deny he's wearing well for his age, and he's always _very_ charming when I go and visit him…'

'My lady!' admonished Anomen as Haer'Dalis and Nalia laughed, but even the good-natured Minsc did not seem to find amusement in the jest, shaking his bald tattooed head gravely.

'Boo does not think this a good match, young Fritha.'

'Oh, I'm only joking, Minsc,' she smiled, patting his arm kindly. 'Renal's very nice, but no, Aerie, I don't think I'll be suggesting we "further our alliance", so to speak. But you cannot deny he is agreeable,' she continued with a sigh, eyes gaining a distant look as she clearly pictured the man. 'All polite and charming on the surface, but then you look at his eyes, so sharp and dark.'

And Renal wasn't the only one with dark eyes it seemed, Anomen scowling across the table at the girl and Aerie felt suddenly sad as she recalled the time when she and Fritha had teased him similarly over Keldorn. They had been good friends and she wondered again whether what she hoped to gain with Haer'Dalis was worth what she could lose.

_Or had already lost_, Aerie considered darkly as her gaze fell to Nalia and she pulled her mind away to take her first sip of wine, the liquid sour and almost oily, leaving her mouth drier than before she had drunk it. No wonder Fritha was onto her third cup, the elf reflected with a sourness that rivalled the wine as the girl continued, oblivious to it all.

'Renal reminds me of that piece, the Walk of the Magi -have you heard it?' Fritha questioned to no one in particular, 'the melody is warm and full, all strings and horns, but then in the refrain there is a piccolo, bright and sharp like the eye of a bird.'

The girl laughed brightly to herself, and Aerie frowned. Fritha looked alive and vivid when she lost herself like this, and the elf was not the only one to have noticed either, Haer'Dalis watching the girl darkly from across the table as she spoke.

'Isn't it strange. I mean it's called the Walk of the Magi, so I'm sure it's supposed to conjure up an image of something at lease vaguely magical, and whenever I look it over, all I can see is Renal Bloodscalp.'

Haer'Dalis smiled broadly and Aerie fancied it held a hungry look.  
'I'm sure he would be charmed to know you thought as such, my raven. Indeed, after your description, I am intrigued to hear the piece myself.'  
But the girl just waved his words away with an absent sweep of her hand.  
'Oh, I'll have the sheet music kicking about somewhere, remind me to dig it out for you.'

Nalia rolled her eyes, clearly cursing this missed opportunity and Aerie smiled in spite of herself. Whether a rival or not, it was difficult to stay angry with one as artless as Fritha.

Haer'Dalis had joined her discussion now, trying to find some common ground.

'Have you heard _Monsoon_ by U'Keur?'

'No, I don't think-'

'What about, _The Great Feud_?' he continued before she could finished, the girl's face lighting with an instant recognition.

'Oh yes, but I don't understand how it's supposed to be about warring houses. I think it sounds like a Northlander longboat, riding stormy seas on the way to raid some Ffolk settlement! The rolling swell of the strings. Listen, you can hear the crash of waves over the prow in the cymbals. And have you heard _The Pasha's Court, _by the same composer? Oh, you can practically _see_ the fire breathers. And the dancing girls; all coloured silks and gold bracelets!'

Fritha sighed, throwing herself backwards in her chair, clearly enjoying the scene behind her eyes and Aerie felt her stomach tighten. This was not fair! She would never be able to engage Haer'Dalis like this, for the girl would always have the advantage, not only having studied such things but taking an incomparable joy in them too. Well, apart from the theatre, the elf reasoned, for though Fritha enjoyed the management of the playhouse, the girl herself had admitted to having no special love of acting…

Aerie felt her heart slow, a sudden weight settling over her.

She _had_ always quite liked the theatre and though she had not attended a performance for years now, her father had taken her and her sisters regularly enough back in Faenya Dail. She recalled easily the girlish fantasies she had had of fluttering about the stage in the beautiful costumes, before her mother had shown her the true beauty of the Weave and forever decided the path of her life. Aerie swallowed, letting the bard's gaze upon the girl strengthen her resolve…

xxx

Fritha focused on the dark red of her eyelids, listening to the music that drifted about her head and wishing more than ever that she still had her lute.  
When had she last heard a piece of music? A proper composition, and not the usual banal rubbish played by every group of inn minstrels between there and the Gate. At least she was spared such in the Coronet, Lehtinan clearly deciding there was more than enough entertainment provided by the brothel upstairs.

As for the last piece she had heard, it must have been Candlekeep. Most of the sages there could play an instrument, though reluctantly, and special occasions would find a dozen or so gathered in the Great Hall or temple, these renditions technically perfect from what she could tell of it, but few of the sages shared her appreciation of music and there had been little joy in the performances.  
Fritha smiled. Not that she could complain, her own studies comprised of little more than her, Beth and the score. The two sat down in the kitchens either side of the great scrubbed table, singing the parts out together and trying to build the piece between them.

Fritha felt herself frown, the music drifting away to be replaced with the low rumble of the tavern about her. She had not thought on any of this for so long, not since she'd left Candlekeep really, such thoughts slowly buried under more pressing matters with no one to remind her of them… until now.

Perhaps it was just that he shared her interest but somehow Haer'Dalis seemed to bring it all to the fore until she felt alive with it as she had back at the Keep, the compositions suddenly as clear in her mind as when she had first heard them.  
Fritha kept her eyes closed, listening to his voice, clear above the din of the tavern and the sound made her smile.

'And what of you, Aerie? Do you share our raven's love of music?'

The elf's voice, soft and wistful, and Fritha could almost see the waves of her hair dance as she shook her head.  
'Oh, me? No, Euripal, my sister, had the talent there…'

Her voice trailed off and Fritha sensed the bard turn, sensed he was about to speak again when-  
'B-But, I- I was always quite interested in acting…'

Fritha straightened so quickly she almost threw her back out, staring open-mouthed at Aerie who was suddenly very interested in the contents of her cup.  
_What? _

'Why, my dove,' came the bard, sounding as surprised as Fritha felt, though infinitely more pleased by this revelation, 'I did not know you had aspirations of the thespian bent.'  
_You and me both, mate! _

Aerie kept her eyes fixed in her cup, her voice quiet but resolved as she continued.  
'O-Oh yes, my mother always said I could have been quite the actress. I would have dreams of tripping on to the stage of the great theatre in Faenya Dail, the city I am from.' She sighed gently, finally raising her eyes to the man. 'But, such a thing is impossible now.'

But Haer'Dalis was having none of this, his face aglow with a sudden enthusiasm.  
'That dream perhaps, but what of here and now? You would light up any stage, my dove. Why we even have a theatre at our disposal,' he beamed glancing to her and Fritha sent him a quelling glare. _No one_ messed about with her theatre.

Aerie shook her head though, the tremble of the golden tresses that framed her face just as pretty as Fritha had imagined.  
'Oh, but Haer'Dalis, I- I do not know how, I couldn't…'

Fritha felt her eyes narrow. Such modest_ enticing_ refusals; Aerie was a better actress than she gave herself credit for. Haer'Dalis was certainly enjoying the performance, throwing an arm about her to give her a slightly condescending smile.  
'Nonsense, my dove, acting comes from talent deep within you, one which you have in abundance and I shall help you draw it out, if you wish.'

The elf smiled, bright and true and Fritha felt her heart sink.  
'Oh, Haer'Dalis, that would be wonderful!'

But Fritha could hardly agree and, it seemed, neither did Nalia, the girl looking no less than livid, eyes dark beneath the line of her brow as she nodded imperceptibly to the bar and the girls rose together.  
'I think we could all use some more wine, don't you?' came Fritha brightly, and before any reply could be given, they had turned as one and escaped into the crowds.

'Aerie wants to act?' hissed Nalia as soon as they were safely hidden in the press of patrons waiting to be served. 'Like what, an _adult_?'  
Fritha just sighed, turning her face as she was pressed closer to the girl, the man behind her elbowing his way out from the bar and trying desperately not to spill the drinks he had just ordered.

'Have you ever heard Aerie mention anything about wanted to become an actress before now?'

Nalia shook her head, cold and slow.  
'No, I have not. And I will warrant the only reason she is _suddenly_ mentioning it now was to distract Haer'Dalis from looking at you!'

'He was looking at me?' Fritha repeated with amazement, her melancholy no more than a memory as she found herself suddenly unable to stop grinning. 'Like how?'

Nalia sent her a gentle smile.  
'Like Lliira had suddenly appeared in the chair opposite him. You should see yourself when you get carried away like that –though I imagine your talk of music will hardly have the same affect now he's caught up teaching Aerie how to become an actress –not that _she_ needs any lessons!' the girl added crossly. 'Can't you become suddenly stage-struck as well?'

Fritha scowled.  
'And win him with false dice? What would be the point? I want him to like me, not some character I've made up!' she snapped, sending a frown to the elf through the press, the girl currently laughing at something, looking warm and enchanting and Fritha sighed, her anger suddenly gone, shaking her head as though to scatter the jealousy from it.  
'Ugh, why is this making such a _monster_ of me? I can't believe Aerie is acting with any malice; I don't want to believe it!'

Nalia just frowned though.  
'Well, you are more generous than I would be.'

Fritha snorted humourlessly.  
'Yes, well, all's fair… Look, I understand that you don't like Haer'Dalis much, but why are you being so hard on Aerie? It can't be because she likes him because, well…'  
The girl trailed off with a vague gesture to herself and Nalia smiled sadly.

'No, you are correct. It is not because she likes him -though I do think you are both complete _idiots_ for doing so!' she added, with a burst of temper and Fritha nodded, smiling slightly.  
'Duly noted.'

Nalia smiled as well, sighing deeply as she continued.  
'But Aerie… before I told you we were friends, good friends, or so I thought. Well, I've never had a real friend before. I mean there were girls at school and such, but they were more relationships of circumstance than true friendships, and I did not stay in touch with any of them once I had left. But Aerie… I truly liked her and we seemed to get on so well, every evening spent together… I thought we had something special, that -oh, I don't know!' she finished with a frustrated sigh. 'I soon found out how wrong I was though. She couldn't _wait_ to drop me for that bard.'

Fritha sent her a gentle smile. The friend pushed out for the new courtship; she knew that role well enough.  
'Just because she likes Haer'Dalis doesn't mean she isn't your friend,' Fritha reasoned, but Nalia would not be soothed.

'Oh, no? Then why, since he has arrived, has it been _you_ acting like one, not she?'

Fritha opened her mouth to answer but the girl continued before she could think of a reply, looking fair and fierce in her sincerity.

'_You_ are my friend, Fritha, and I will not see you lose to Aerie in this, however unsuitable I think Haer'Dalis is, and that is why you must fight for him!'

Fritha took a step back, suddenly worried by what Nalia was implying and muttering an apology as she knocked into the woman behind her.  
'Nalia, I am doing everything I can. What do you want me to do, march over there and call her out?'

'No, do not be so obtuse, Fritha!' Nalia replied tersely, her voice wavering between irritation and laughter, the girl fixing her with a sly look as she continued. 'But there are other, more subtle ways of going about things. I know we were only joking before, but there would be no harm in changing into the tunic we embroidered…'

'Nalia, are you mad?' Fritha snapped, angry at the sense the girl was making. This wasn't how it was supposed to be! 'I'm not changing my clothes or anything else for that matter,' she continued, folding her arms stubbornly, 'he should like me just as I am.'

But Nalia merely put her hands on her hips with a determined frown, the man behind her looking as though he would ask her to move over, before he seemed to think better of it.  
'Well, yes, he _should_, and in an ideal world he _would_ as well. But we are both aware that this is not such a place and in situations like this, presentation can be as important as character…'

Fritha sighed and nodded glumly, arms falling defeatedly to her sides.  
'I understand what you mean; the one who can catch his eye is more likely to catch something else as well. But I can't help it; I still feel how I feel. If he truly liked me then it wouldn't matter if Aerie was the most beautiful woman in Amn and was pursuing him with the ferocity of a hungry lioness -and let's face it,' she quipped with a wry smile, 'it's not far off in either case-'

'Aerie's no prettier than you!' Nalia snapped and looking so adamant Fritha didn't dare refute it.

'Well,' Fritha continued after a moment's wary pause, 'either way, if he likes me, then it should be regardless of anyone else.'

'That's a very naïve way of looking at it,' said Nalia, her voice suddenly soft and Fritha shook her head with a tired smile.

'I know; my mind is old and knows it doesn't usually work like that, but my heart is still young and that's how it feels. Look at them,' she sighed, gazing over to where the pair were still sat, heads leaned in close as they talked, the table already covered in tattered scripts while Anomen and Minsc had retreated to a conversation between themselves, 'why don't I just give up now and spare myself some bother.'

A shout and the smash of bottles from the bar behind them and Haer'Dalis glanced up, finding her in the throng to send her a smile, Fritha hiding her grin in her sleeve as her stomach lurched and Nalia laughed gently.

'I believe you have your reason.'


	22. Hide and seek

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Hide and seek**

Nalia stood at the window looking out onto the silent city as she absently pulled a comb through her hair. It was just before dawn and the street below was grey and lifeless, the slums still steeped in sleep before the sun awoke them to a another day of hopes and hardships. She turned from the window, suddenly disheartened, trying to focus on others things as she finished her brushing and packed her bag.

The previous evening had turned out to be quite enjoyable in the end, Fritha insisting that they return to the table to 'play nicely' as she had put it, quelling her initial dissent with a stern wisdom, and Nalia recalled her words clearly.  
'_Only two can be in a relationship, but I am determined that whichever two they are, _three_ will remain friends after this. And perhaps, even a fourth can return…_'

Nalia had pointedly ignored Fritha's last comment, though she had eventually agreed to join her, and they had returned to the table together, Fritha taking a polite interest in Aerie's acting, the girl suggesting different scenes for them to practise with and even managing to convince Nalia herself to join in on some of the readings.  
Nalia smiled as she recalled the girl sat next to her, giggling gently into her sleeve at some quip of the bard's, looking flushed and lovely; she honestly couldn't see why Haer'Dalis was having trouble picking between them.

And so they had been, until Jaheira had arrived at the table and she and Fritha had returned to the bridge district, Anomen, Aerie and Haer'Dalis leaving for the docks just after dinner and Nalia had returned gloomily to her room soon afterwards.  
It had been difficult those last few days, watching the others discussing their investigations and hurrying off to meetings, while she and Minsc had trudged about the city looking vainly for work.  
Nalia sighed. She had always felt very assured of herself and her own worth and it was an unwelcome sensation, to feel more of a burden than an asset, though no one in the group would have ever said such.

At least she and Minsc had found work for that day, she considered, cheering slightly. Or for that morning anyway; a local goldsmith needing someone to escort something of value from his workshop in the promenade to one of the noble estates in the northwest of the city. She and Minsc had easily secured the work with his size and her reputation, though payment was only a hundred gold- a lot for simple delivery-work, but nowhere near what the others were looking to earn and she felt embarrassed that they had been unable to find anything better.

Nalia sighed, her good mood wavering again and she threw her cloak about her and shouldered her bag to leave before her melancholy could reassert itself once more, stepping resolutely into the hall to almost collide with someone.

'Oh, good morning, Anomen,' she greeted once over her surprise, 'I had not expected anyone else to be awake yet.'

'Good morning, my lady,' he replied with a polite nod, fastening the cloak at his shoulders as he continued.' You go to meet Minsc? You are acting as couriers for one of the guilds today, are you not?'

'That is so,' she confirmed, unwilling to dwell on this and quickly changing the subject. 'Did your visit to the docks prove fruitful?'

Anomen nodded evenly.

'Perhaps. Avis was there and we spoke to her initially, the girl introducing us to the rest of their group. Had it not been for her, I doubt they would have spoken to us as at all, but it soon became apparent they knew no more than she… or so it seemed.'

Anomen frowned slightly. 'We spoke to many there, and it was nearing midnight when we made to leave, Avis catching us on the edge of the docks. It seems a good friend of Lirsand's has information on the pair. He feared to been seen speaking with us, but I have arrangements to meet him today in a tavern on the other side of the slums.'

'This morning?' she questioned, still at a loss as to why the squire was leaving the inn so early. Anomen shook his head.

'No, I wish to attend matins at the temple, though I have a few moments yet. Ah Jaheira,' he continued as the woman in question appeared in her doorway, dressed, though only in the literal sense, her feet bare and hair still tousled from sleep. 'How went your evening, my lady? Did you find the, ah, woman you sought?'

Jaheira frowned slightly, though Nalia felt it was more the puzzlement of finding them both stood in the hall at such an hour, than any real displeasure.

'Yes, eventually,' the druid finally replied, taking a step from her doorway to join them. 'Though the girl remembered very little about finding the body; just a dark shape fleeing down the alley and a smell, a smell of guril berries. Though I find this fact unlikely,' she continued with a terse sigh. 'This all occurred a month ago and the berry was not in season then. Fritha thinks we therefore need to look for something that smells the same; we plan a trip to the promenade this morning.'

'You go to rouse her now?' asked Nalia, but Jaheira snorted crossly.

'Oh, no. Merely to see if the foolish girl is even abed! I have no idea _when _she returned last night. She insisted on going to help with the sewing in the theatre once we finished our investigations, and would not hear of me waiting with her. I was downstairs in the common room until the moon peaked and saw no sign of her return.'

Anomen looked troubled.

'She made the way back here alone?'

Jaheira sent him a glare.

'Well, I strongly advised her _against_ such a course, recalling to her the dangers of the streets after nightfall with this guilds' war and a murderer around the bridge.'

'And did she heed you?' asked Anomen, still looking a touch concerned.

Jaheira snorted at his naivety.

'Of course not, and her sincere assurances that she could run very fast when the situation called for it were hardly a comfort!'

Nalia felt herself smile, hiding it in her sleeve, though Anomen was smirking slightly too and even Jaheira had a glimmer of frustrated amusement in her eyes.

'Well,' said Anomen, breaking the silence with a slight bow, 'I should be going. I wish you well, ladies.'

'Farewell,' she and Jaheira chorused, the woman nodding politely to her before continuing on to Fritha's door and Nalia turned to follow Anomen down the stairs, unable to help a smile as the sound of the druid drifted after her.

'Fritha? Are you awake? …Yes, I know what time it is, now open this door!'

xxx

'Are you all right, Minsc?' Nalia asked again as the man next to her hefted the load in his arms with a sharp breath. It turned out that their delivery was no less than a gold-plated shrine statue the size of small child, something Minsc could lift without much of a problem, though travelling a distance with it was another matter and she could see the strain on his face as they closed upon their goal, an estate just east of the Government District, the city about them slowly awakening as they walked.

'Come, let us rest again,' she offered, the ranger making a weak noise of protest that died completely when he realised she would not take any refusals and she led him to stand in the shelter of a narrow side street, the man crouching to set the load down on the smooth cobbles before them. The idol was bound and protected by canvas and ropes and a for moment, she thought it looked like they had been tomb robbing. She smiled slightly at the idea, though it was not something she would ever consider doing in reality; she preferred her targets alive and wealthy enough so as not to miss the loss.

Nalia sighed. It had been a while now since she had a chance to exercise her more disreputable skills, full days making for tired evenings. Her work with Fritha was most definitely of a help to others, though not quite in the sense she was used to and Nalia rather missed her night time jaunts about the city. Keeping to the shadows and scaling walls all in search of the elusive mark and, quite apart from the fact she had not been able to donate anything to the temple of Illmater for a tenday now, she was a little worried she was getting out of practise.

At least, they would earn something from this work, though she suddenly realised with some dismay that their payment for this delivery would merely cover what she and Minsc would be given in payment. Well, at least they weren't _costing_ the group money.

Nalia glanced to the man next to her, Minsc leaning back against the building they were stood before, stretching and rubbing the muscles of his arms and clearly trying to work the ache from them. She liked the ranger and had found a sincere respect for the man ever since they had been paired together to search for Belgrade some days before. Though he was obviously quite addled, he had a earthy wisdom, albeit one he seemed to insist on attributing to his hamster, and Nalia thought they worked well together.

His company had certainly been more than welcome over the last few days; Minsc and sometimes Boo assuring her that work would be found and everything would be for the best (and sometimes evil would be brought to justice along the way as well). Besides, Nalia considered practically, half the nobles houses in Athkatla probably thought she was mad, who was she to judge the mental state of others.

The ranger glanced to her with a smile, gesturing to the statue at his feet.  
'Boo says we should set out again before the streets grow crowded. If we go back to the guild soon, they may have more work for us, yes?'

Nalia nodded, smiling gently, and they continued their journey, the roads growing wider as they travelled, the houses no longer opening onto the street but concealed behind high-walled gardens. And, at last they reached their destination, the pale stone walls of the Farrel estate; not the eldest nor the richest of Athkatla's noble houses, but a respected one nevertheless.

Nalia led them through the gates, the gravel path crunching pleasantly underfoot as they walked up the tree-lined path to the grand sandstone house, the girl knocking politely on the wide arched doors, a blonde pink-cheeked maid appearing at one after a moment. Nalia smiled.

'Good morning, we are-'

'Deliveries are round the back,' the girl cut in sharply, shutting the door before Nalia could utter another word and she felt herself flush at the affront, Minsc giving her shoulder a kindly pat before he stooped again for his load and they returned to the path, following it through the well-kept gardens to the back of the building, Nalia seething as they went.

Had her household ever been so? No, she was sure it had not, despite her Aunt's influences, and Nalia was hit with the sudden realisation that the castle was perhaps being managed quite differently now Delcia and the Roenalls had rule. Nalia sighed crossly. Well, of course she had known it would be run _differently_, but she had never really considered it in light of the small courtesies her father had always extended to anyone who came to them, and she felt a strange sense of shame wash over her, glad for the first time that she was no longer associated with the place.

They had reached the much plainer back entrance now, the door hidden by a line of trees and Nalia was struck by a pang of irritation that even though the maid was well aware that they were coming, she was not there waiting for them. Nalia reached a hand up and knocked sharply, the door eventually swinging open to reveal the same pink-faced maid.

'If you just leave it there,' the girl continued indifferently, gesturing to the step, 'I'll have one of the-'

'Go and fetch your master,' snapped Nalia, her voice taking on the crisp imperious tones of her aunt, well aware that the officious deportment of the nobility could have its advantages, 'this requires his seal. And bring this man some water, as well!'

The girl stared at her open-mouthed, before her instinct seemed to take over and she bobbed a quick curtsey, hurrying off to do her bidding. Minsc laughed breathlessly, setting down his load for the final time and leaning back against the wall of the house.

'Such a fine temper! You speak with the spirit of a Wychlaran, young Nalia. Even Boo trembled.'

Nalia smiled in spite of herself, trying not to feel too pleased as she recalled the girl's shocked expression.

'Ah, your water, miss,' came a voice before her and she glanced up to see another maid, brown-haired and younger, stood holding out a large earthenware jug and cup, the girl disappearing as soon as it was taken.

'Here,' Nalia smiled, passing the cup to Minsc, who received it gratefully, the girl pouring him some water before setting the jug at his feet and she straightened just as a loud and decidedly exasperated voice drifted through the doorway.

'Fine, fine, go back to your duties!' snapped the half-dressed man of middling years she assumed to be Lord Farrel, the maid hurrying off as he turned his attentions to them. 'Now what is this? My maid said you need a seal.'

Nalia nodded once, drawing the slim beeswax tablet from her bag, the crest of the goldsmiths' guild gilt upon the back.

'What? The idol from the goldsmiths?' he exclaimed, finally glancing to the solid bundle set just outside the doorway as he handed the tablet he had just stamped back to her, his voice dropping as he continued half to himself. 'But I need this to be over at the temple of Lathander, they are expecting it today! I had completely forgotten and all my porters are required here, we're hosting the first of the Autumn Hunts.'

Nalia shrugged, quite uninterested in his plight.

'A pity, I am sure,' she continued indifferently, slipping the tablet back into her bag, 'farewell, sir.'

'N-Now just you wait a moment,' he exclaimed, bristling at her tone, 'you must take it over there!'

'_Must_?' repeated Nalia icily, more than done with being ordered about for the day. 'We were hired to deliver the statue here. Was this incorrect?'

Lord Farrel quailed slightly under her look. 'Well, no, but-'

'Then I see no _must_ about it,' she cut in dismissively, 'Good-'

'Madam, really,' he continued conciliatorily, 'it was merely a turn of phrase. Now, please be reasonable and redeliver this to the temple. I am sure I can pay you for your time.'

She glanced to Minsc who nodded imperceptibly; tired but willing.

'We will do as you ask,' Nalia continued, clipped and authoritative, 'for the fee of two hundred gold pieces.'

'Two _hundred_?' Farrel breathed, seemingly left almost speechless in his indignation. 'The initial delivery was only half that!'

Nalia shrugged turning to leave.  
'As you will. Come, Minsc.'

'Fine, fine,' Farrel burst out with clear frustration, glancing back into the house to shout for his purse, before returning his attention to them with a scowl. 'You understand I consider this no less than _robbery_, madam!'

Nalia smiled. And there she had been, worrying she was getting out of practise.

xxx

Fritha yawned widely, trying to stifle it in her sleeve and shaking her head in an attempt to wake up, the bustle of the morning promenade an unreal blur through her haze of sleep. She and Jaheira were stood on the western steps, the druid surveying the marketplace for a likely stall while Fritha stood behind her, leaning heavily against the plinth of one of the stone lions that guarded there, her cheek resting against its flank, the cool stone pleasant on her hot tired eyes. She had been late to bed last night, helping to sort and repair the props with the troupe, the sense of camaraderie they shared making light of the work and she had been surprised to find the moon almost set when she finally left the Five Flagons.

Fritha frowned. But even the lateness of her return would not have been so bad, if it had not been combined with the druid seeing fit to wake her with the dawn, the women sitting on the end of her bed to give her a stern lecture on the irresponsibility of wandering about the city alone at night. She had tried desperately to ignore the woman, unpleasantly stuffy with the covers pulled over head, though it was all in vain; she had been unable to return to sleep even after Jaheira had departed and after an hour of lying in bed, staring at the ceiling as the room about her grew steadily lighter, Fritha had given up and gone down to the common room to join the woman for an early breakfast.

Fritha stifled another yawn, feeling slightly cross that the druid had seen fit to disturb what little sleep she had managed to get.  
'Remind me _again_ why it was necessary to get me up with the lark this morning,' she reproached the woman, Jaheira merely glancing back from where she had been scanning the marketplace to give her a stern look.  
'Well, it would _not_ have been had you agreed to allow me to stay and walk back with you last night. I merely wished to ensure you were not lying dead in some alley between here and the bridge.'

Fritha scowled.

'Well, it would have been a bit bloody late to do anything about it if I had been,' she muttered, squinting as they moved out from the shadow of the archway. 'What were you planning to do if I hadn't been in my room? Scribble my name at the bottom of your "vengeance" list and go back to bed?'

'Do not even joke about such things,' Jaheira snapped, though not as sharply as she might have and Fritha hoped she was starting to feel a touch guilty about waking her. 'Now come along, do you have the berries we bought yesterday?'

Fritha nodded and drew a slightly squashed packet of dark indigo berries from her pack, following the women down the steps and through the press of people to a nearby apothecary's stall, the tables bowed under the dishes of spice and herbs, baskets of dried fruit and roots at their feet. Fritha brought the packet to her face and inhaled deeply, trying to memorise the bitter faintly aromatic scent of the berries before taking a pinch of crisp green leaves from the nearest basket and sniffing at them tentatively.

'Greetings ladies, a pearl…'came the apothecary, finishing with a customer to turn to them and trailing off with a bemused look to her. Jaheira rapped her knuckles with her own and Fritha hastily returned the leaves to their basket, straightening to give him a smile, the man looking relieved when Jaheira began to speak.  
'Well met, sir. Though this may sound like a strange request, do you have anything that smells like guril berries?'

'Guril berries?' he repeated with a frown, 'well, I do not stock them myself; their medicinal uses are tenuous at best.'

'Well, what would they be used for?' asked Fritha, licking a spot of the astringent juice from the tip of her finger and finding it difficult to believe anyone would eat the berries by choice. The apothecary shrugged loosely.

'Well, I know of only one use myself. They can be combined with other certain herbs to make a salve for, ah,' he coloured slightly, 'intimate afflictions.'

'Oh, Hells!' Fritha burst out crossly, ignoring the merchant's surprise to whirl on the woman next to her, 'it was probably just her last customer!'

Jaheira nodded slowly.

'Hmm, perhaps.' She turned again to the man. 'Do you have anything else that would smell like it?'

He shook his head.

'I surely could not say, madam, though you're welcome to keep, ah, looking, as it were.'

They nodded their thanks, the merchant turning to serve his next customer while the two women poured over the baskets, some of which so exotic even Jaheira could not recognise them.

Fritha sighed, absently scratching her hand. It seemed she'd had a reaction to something she had handled, the fingers of her right hand itching maddeningly and, even more frustratingly, they were fast running out of herbs to sample. The girl sighed again, stooping closer to a dish of fine dull grey powder and drawing back almost immediately as the bitter smell assailed her.

'This,' Fritha exclaimed, pointing the dish out to the woman opposite, 'this is the closest yet. Excuse me,' she continued to the merchant, 'what's this?'

The man nodded politely as he passed some change to a customer and bid them farewell before glancing back to answer her.  
'Er, that? Ground oak bark. Used to make a draft for the treatment of dysentery.'

'Oh great,' sighed Fritha, 'so we're looking for someone with chronic diarrhoea,' Jaheira snorting noisily as she continued to the man, 'what else can you use it for?'

'Oak bark? Well, mixed with certain metal salts it makes dyes and of course, if you brew it up right you can release the tannin, which they use for-'

The women suddenly glanced to each other and Fritha saw her own dawning realisation mirrored in the druid's eyes as Jaheira finished his sentence.  
'Curing hides…'

xxx

'Is this the place?' asked Fritha, looking up at the plain wooden building that stood about halfway along the bridge. Jaheira nodded, peering around the corner of the house and into the neighbouring lane to point above the door.  
'Yes, there is the sign, see; Rejiek Hidesman.'

There were three tanners in the area according to the local merchants, though this was the only one actually situated on the bridge, and Jaheira had believed it the best place to begin their investigations. Fritha threw a glance to the woman, leaving the main street to walk along the short alley and knock sharply on the door, moving to the closest window when no one answered to peer through the grimy glass, an empty workshop just visible though the dirt.

'Well, he doesn't appear to have opened up shop today, does he?' she said finally, turning back to Jaheira and the woman nodded, her eyes narrowed.

'Quite, and it was closed when we were questioning the residents around here the other day as well. Perhaps he is ill.'

'Well, he's going to feel even worse when he sees his door,' Fritha grinned, drawing her sword and Jaheira took a step closer, shielding her from view of the street as she forced the lock.

'There,' Fritha whispered with satisfaction, sheathing her blade as the door swung open and she took a step inside, the workshop large, but gloomy even at highsun and Fritha wondered absently how the man worked with so little natural light. No doorways led off to other rooms, the sharp bitter smell of tannin drifting up a flight of steps that led down to the floor below, the stairwell full of shadows.

'Hello? Anyone here?' Fritha called, glancing to Jaheira with a smirk as she continued with a friendly concern, 'Someone appears to have forced your door open; are you okay?'

The druid rolled her eyes, moving over to the nearest workbench, where scraps of leather were piled about a half-made satchel.  
'Look, this is same type of hide as the one we found on the last victim.'

Fritha watched as she drew the piece of leather from her bag, her hand hovering over the workbench before descending to hold it up to the scrap already there; the edges matched completely. Fritha swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.  
'What do you think? Should we tell Aegisfield or investigate further?'

'Both,' answered Jaheira firmly, returning to the door to call loudly back into the street. 'Here, child.'  
A pause and Fritha listened to the approach of bare feet before the druid continued to her unseen herald.  
'Here is a copper piece. There is another here awaiting your return if you go and fetch Captain Aegisfield, or any other members of the Watch. Understood? Go on then, quickly now.'

The woman remained at the door a moment as the footsteps faded before turning back into the room and Fritha moved to the top of the stairs, the dark silhouette of furniture below just visible in the gloom.  
'Are you ready?'

Jaheira said nothing, merely nodded once, adjusting her grip on her staff and Fritha turned to descend into the darkness.

The smell of tannin was much stronger down there, the only light from the room above them and Fritha felt her hand tighten about her sword hilt, though she did not draw it.

'By Silvanus,' Jaheira muttered behind her, 'it is like pitch in here.'

Fritha nodded, finally reaching the last step and letting a hand brush lightly against the wall next to her, fingers finally finding what she sought.  
'Here, I've found a window. There,' she muttered, feeling for the catch and at last throwing open the shutters, the view of the river shimmering blue green under a bright noon sun quite a nice one, though she took no time to appreciate it, turning back into the room to finally take in their surroundings.

She was not sure what she had been expecting, but the sunlight had opened out a plain and serviceable room; a large washtub of tannin in one corner, an open trapdoor in another, stone steps leading to what she assumed was the cellar, while spaced neatly about, hides in various stages of curing were hung or stretched over frames.

There was an open firepit in centre of room and Fritha moved to look at the rail suspended above it, where a pretty piebald horsehide was hung next to some strips of a pale sallow leather she did not recognise. She looked closer, the leather thinner than anything she had ever seen before, almost translucent and she moved a hand up to touch it, Jaheira suddenly grabbing her sleeve, her face pallid.  
'Don't. I- I think it is skin.'

Fritha dropped her hand, stepping back as a wave of nausea washed over her, her heart suddenly beating wildly.

'What are you doing here?' demanded a sharp masculine voice and Fritha whirled with the druid to see a stocky man of Amnian-colouring stood at the trapdoor, another fairer man just visible behind him.

'What are _we_ doing here?' she shrieked, her temper flaring before she could master it, throwing a hand towards the hides behind her, 'what in the _Hells _are _you_ doing here?'

Jaheira took a step forward, her staff held ready.  
'Rejiek Hidesman, by order of the City Watch of Athkatla you are under arrest and are to come with us.'

The man tensed, his eyes dark and calculating and, for a moment, Fritha thought he would attack when he suddenly turned and fled back down the steps, almost barrelling into his companion in his haste.

Jaheira leapt after him, Fritha drawing her sword to follow her, the two racing down the steps after them. The stone was slippery underfoot and Fritha nearly skidded in to the back of the woman when Jaheira stopped suddenly halfway down the staircase, the girl glancing up to question her and her heart stopped.

The cellar about them was like a scene from Irenicus's dungeon and yet a thousand times worse. The stone walls were black with damp and mould, stacks of rotting crates rising in the gloom like the columns of some decaying temple, though hardly any of this registered when at the foot of the steps a large solid table was stood, covered in blood, a half skinned body lain out upon it. Next to it, skins were stretched over frames similar to the ones they had seen upstairs, the remnants of flesh to be scraped from them before they could be cured, a plague of rats swarming beneath, feeding on the scraps.

Along two of the walls, other bodies had been hung and left to rot, their skins still intact from what she could see and Fritha wondered whether they had somehow been deemed unsuitable, hung up there and denied burial as some kind of punishment for the inconvenience.

They walked down the rest of the steps in measured silence, eyes scanning the disorder, searching for some sign of the men to little avail. The room was at river level, the floor ending before the enclosure of the walls did, and Fritha could see the dark water lapping against a rotting wooden jetty, two narrow punts moored there, a low archway leading out to the river beyond, the world outside bright and unreal.

Fritha came to the foot of the stairs, letting her eyes drift unseeing over the bloody table before them, her mouth salivating as the bile began to rise in her throat.  
'Rejiek, you sick bastard,' she shouted with a bark of hollow laughter, 'come out here and I swear we'll take you in alive.'

Silence. Jaheira glanced to her, indicating the way ahead towards the jetty with her staff while nodding for take the vague path left through the crates and the women split up, Fritha watching the druid begin to prowl forward into the darkness before turning to walk left along the wall, the stacks of rotting crates looming over her.

Fritha crept along, straining to hear anything over the roar of blood in her ears, heart beating a smart tattoo in her chest as she passed body after mouldering body hung on the wall next to her, some little more than skeletons, others disturbingly fresh and she felt their eyes on her as she walked by.

She reached the end of the aisle, pausing to consider the skeleton there, half-hidden by shadow and rags, its bleached white skull looking out of place in the murk of the surroundings. Fritha sighed and turned to make her way back when she heard the rattle of bones behind her and she whirled in time to see the flash of steel, Rejiek suddenly there, stepping out from behind the body, a stiletto already sweeping down at her. She screamed, bringing her blade up with a speed that surprised them both, Rejiek's hand hitting the ground a moment before the rest of him did, Fritha's sword stuck halfway through his head.

'Fritha,' came a cry before her and she looked up to see Jaheira rushing towards her. 'I heard you scream, are you injured?'

'No, but Rejiek's dead.'

A dull creak of timbers broke the silence, the gentle swash of water against a prow echoing about the cellar and Jaheira's eyes went wide.  
'The other!'

She whirled about and was gone, haring off back towards the quay, Fritha freeing her sword to run after her and the women reaching the jetty just in time to see the stern of a boat disappearing into the sunlight.

'Damn his hide!' swore the druid, continuing her tirade with a few more inventive curses that Fritha thought best to ignore, the girl's attention pulled back to the steps behind them as she heard the rattling footsteps of those in armour. The Watch had arrived.

'We heard fighting,' called Aegisfield as he and another five guards descended, all looking as horrified as they first had, 'are you both unharmed?'

'We are fine,' Fritha called back with a sigh, 'but the murderer is dead and his accomplice escaped by boat.'

'Could you describe him?'

Fritha shrugged, glancing to Jaheira who nodded curtly.  
'Tall, fair hair, wearing black clothes and a dark green cloak. I did not get much of a chance to see his face.'

The captain nodded, turning back to his squad.  
'Okay, Williams, Owen, take men to search the wharfs in and around the bridge, and send some over to check the harbour as well, he could have sailed down river.'

Two of the guards saluted, already marching smartly back to the steps as Aegisfield turned back to them.

'We should make a search of this place as well,' continued Jaheira with a cursory glance about her, eyes narrowed as though she did not look forward to the task she had just set them, 'Rejiek may be dead, but there is perhaps some clue here as to why he was doing this, or whether he had anyone else working with him.'

It was agreed, they and the four remaining guards splitting up to search the cellar, Fritha tying her bright turquoise scarf about her head in an attempt to protect her hair from their unpleasant task. It was all in vain though, gore and filth seemed to cover every surface and though Jaheira insisted she be the one to examine the half-skinned body, Fritha and the guards searched the other corpses as well as some of the surrounding crates, and all were filthy by the time they finally trooped upstairs to search the room above.

For her part, Fritha was just glad to out of the cellar, the churning of her stomach finally quieting to a dull queasiness, the astringent smell of the tannin actually helping her nausea as long as she did not think on what it had been used for.  
She glanced up from the ledger she was leafing through, leaving bloody fingerprints on each page as she looked for anything that could lead them to Rejiek's accomplices, the others about her searching similarly though the drawers and chests. Aegisfield and a guard had gone upstairs to check the workshop and Jaheira was knelt at the chest next to her, slowly going through bills and invoices though the thing which had caught her eye were the two guards opposite her.

The initial search of the room had revealed a bed, wardrobe and linen chest which she had previous missed, hidden behind a set of folding screens as they were. The screens were folded up and leant against a wall now, the older guard, grey-haired and stocky, trying to force the lock on the wardrobe while his friend, a lanky tow-headed lad, was sprawled on his stomach struggling to get something from under the bed. But it was clear from his sighs, he could not reach in far enough, his shoulder guard catching against the bed frame, though his friend was hardly sympathetic.

'Are you still writhing around down there?' the older man laughed, 'just move the bed, man!'

'I can't, you old eejit,' the lad huffed crossly, giving up to sit back on his haunches and send the man a scowl, 'it's bolted to the floor!'

Fritha smiled slightly, laying the ledger back on the workbench and moving to his side.  
'Here, I'm smaller, I'll fetch it out.'

He nodded and stood, stepping back with the other guard to watch her, Jaheira moving across to join them.

'Be careful,' one of them warned, the druid sending them a look as Fritha dropped to her knees and finally lay on her stomach, face pressed to the floorboards as she stretched an arm under the bed.  
'Do you have it?'

'Almost… there,' she sighed, fingers finally closing about it, the material soft in her hand as she drew it into the light. The group behind her gasped and she straightened, pushing herself up from the floorboards for her gaze to fall on a neatly tailored jacket of sallow leather. For a strange bewildering moment she wondered what had disturbed everyone so, when suddenly it dawned on her and she was on her feet and stumbling backwards into the onlookers, wanting to put as much distance between her and it as possible.

'I- it- it's'

Two firm hands gripped her shoulders, the druid's voice at her ear.  
'Fritha, calm yourself.'

She shrugged her off though, pushing through the group and making it all the way to the stairs before she was sick, the mutters of sympathy faintly audible as the guards disbanded to continue their search. Fritha drew in a deep breath, dabbing her watering eyes with her sleeve as she turned to sit heavily on the stairs next to her, glancing up as Jaheira approached.

'Feeling better now? One of the men said to give you this,' she began gently, passing a narrow flask to her and Fritha looked past the woman to where the older guard was stood making a good show of searching through the wardrobe he'd finally opened, though he was keeping half an eye on them, giving her an encouraging smile as he noticed her watching.

Fritha smiled faintly as well, knocking it back for a quick sip, the spirits burning her throat as she swallowed, though the heat it put in her stomach was bracing and seemed to bring her round slightly. She passed the flask back to Jaheira with a nod.  
'Thanks.'

The druid sent her a measured look.  
'You know we may as well return to the inn. The murderer is dead and the Watch can finish things here.'

Fritha shook her head, well aware of what she was doing, but determined to see it through.  
'No, we should stay until it's done.' She sighed, rising tiredly to stand next to the woman. 'Many hands, and all that…'


	23. Sune's favour

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Sune's favour **

They finally left the house as the bells struck four and there the group parted, Aegisfield and his men heading north to make a full report to his superior at the Council Buildings, while the women went south back to the slums.

Fritha sighed, feeling very tired and faintly sick, though glad as well; glad that they had stayed and seen it through to the end.  
It had been hard. The search had turned up two more coats and a cloak all of the same pale leather, though little else of note and they still had no clue as to why Rejiek had been performing such atrocities, or for whom. But in spite of this, she had left the house with a sense of completeness, that her part in the chapter could be closed now; not forgotten, but not to be dwelled upon as a matter unfinished either.

Speaking of matters unfinished, she really should start applying such wisdom to other aspects of her life as well, Fritha considered, her thoughts turning to the bard as they so often did when unoccupied. She _did_ like Haer'Dalis and she should not be so reticent about it. Life, as she unfortunately seemed to be reminded on a daily basis, was short, and surely it was time to make her feelings a little clearer, rather than all this hanging back twisting her sleeves.

Fritha drew a measured breath as the sick feeling surged again in her stomach though for a different reason this time, the druid obviously unaware of the difference as she glanced to her, concern evident.  
'Are you still feeling queasy?'

Fritha shrugged.  
'A bit. To be honest, all I want to do now is get back to the inn, change my clothes and spend the evening with you and the others in the tavern.'

Jaheira nodded her approval.  
'Yes, it would be best not to dwell upon things. Ah, here we are.'

Fritha glanced up as they rounded the corner, the inn halfway down the street and she felt her spirits rise a little. Perhaps Haer'Dalis would already be there and after her wash, they could sit together and maybe talk some more about music. She had dug out her score of Walk of the Magi the night before and was looking forward to hearing his opinion on the piece. She smiled at the thought, nodding politely to the guard as they approached the tavern door, Fritha pushing it open and there she stopped.

Some may have thought that the murder of her father, becoming the target of bounty hunters and being tortured by an insane mage would have brought her to the conclusion earlier. But it was only then, as she stood in the doorway watching Aerie, the elf in robes of deep saffron and already seated at a script strewn table with the bard, her hair combed out and spilling like spun gold over her shoulders, that the realisation dawned on Fritha.  
Life was cruel.

She sighed tiredly, her previous resolve to be more open with the bard little more than a memory as she watched the pair talking excitedly, heads leaned in close, while Nalia sat opposite them with a bored look.

'Fritha! What is-?' came the druid behind her, clearly questioning the delay until she noticed them too. 'Oh, I see.'

Jaheira sent her a shrewd look, but Fritha said nothing and the woman finally sighed to continue, 'I am going down to the bathhouse. Are you coming?'

Fritha shook her head.  
'No, I think I need a drink first.'

Jaheira frowned but nodded once, giving her shoulder a firm squeeze before heading off towards the stairs and Fritha trudged over to the table, the three glancing up with clear shock at her appearance, Nalia on her feet before she could draw breath.  
'Gods, Fritha! What has happened to you?'

'We found the murderer.' Fritha shook her head darkly. 'It wasn't pretty.'

'Here,' Nalia continued firmly, pushing her own chair towards the girl while Aerie hurriedly tidied away their scripts and poured her some wine. Fritha sat heavily, nodding her thanks as she downed the cup in one, Nalia still fussing at her arm.

'Dearest, you look positively faint! Would you like something stronger?'

'I- I've a herbal draft that might help…' added Aerie with a worried frown, hand already halfway to her bag.

'No, no, this is fine,' Fritha sighed, giving them a wan smile as she reached for the bottle to refill her cup. 'Come sit back down, Nalia. Honestly, I'm fine. How went your delivery?'

Nalia sighed, but sat as she was asked.  
'Fine, fine. Can you believe poor Minsc carried a shrine idol all the way from the promenade to the government district, only for the noble there to tell us he needed the thing re-delivered to the temple of the Lathander back in the south of the city. Here,' Nalia smiled, brightening slightly as she passed her a large purse heavy with coins, 'our payment. I charged him a small fortune for the inconvenience.'

Fritha smiled, the girl's expression as heartening as the gold.  
'Nalia, that's wonderful, thank you. So is Minsc back here with you now?'

The girl shook her head.  
'No, the temple asked him to stay there and help them set up the shrine. It was heavy work and he was willing, though I would have thought he'd be back by now,' she considered with a slight frown, glancing to the door as though hoping he would walk through it at that moment and Fritha turned back to her wine, taking another sip as Haer'Dalis spoke up.

'So, my raven,' he began, leaning back in his chair with an interested look, 'what is the chant with your mad murderer? Did the promenade provide the answers you sought?'

Nalia and Aerie both looked rather cross he had asked her, but just Fritha shrugged.

'Yes, in that the berries smelt of tannin and we'd already found leather on the last victim. We visited the tanner on the bridge and though our evidence was tenuous to begin with, once we found his cellar was full of skinned bodies I must admit to feeling pretty sure he was our man.'

The girls looked horrified, though Haer'Dalis remained silent, gaze dark and contemplative as he watched her.

'Disturbing,' he said finally, though he did not sound too concerned, 'he was clearly touched by something dark.' He sent another thoughtful glance to her. 'And our raven returns from it all unscathed, of course.'

Fritha opened her mouth, about to agree, to lie and shrug the whole thing off as she usually did when she stopped, suddenly realising that there was very little hope of deepening her relations with the man if she insisted on keeping everyone at arm's length. She drew a deep breath.

'Actually, no, not really,' she said finally, the bard looking mildly surprised by the admission, though not pitying or contemptuous and she felt slightly reassured.

'But, I'll be okay,' she added with an absent shrug, taking another drink as she continued. 'The murderer's dead and bodies really were the least of what we found anyway.'

'What do you mean?' asked Nalia, looking alarmed.

'He-' Fritha swallowed as her stomach began to churn fiercely. 'Well, he was tanning the skin he had taken and making things from it.'

'By Baervar!' cried Aerie, the colour draining from her cheeks, Nalia looking little better for this revelation. 'Gods, how awful!'

Haer'Dalis looked shocked as well, though much less horrified, his eyes lit with a dark fascination.  
'Things? Such as?'

Fritha swallowed again, the words sticking in her throat, though she forced herself to continue.

'Well, clothes, he- he was making clothes, but for the amount of skin he must have taken, they did not account for all of it, so who knows what else he could have been making. He had special tools for working it all, knives and the like, separate from the ones in his workshop and-'

'Oh, please, don't go on, I can't bear it!' cried Aerie suddenly, Fritha glancing up sharply to find the elf white and tearful.

'Aerie, what is wrong?' came the bard, turning to her with a concerned look, the girl shaking her head and Fritha felt quite sorry for her, the elf's reluctance to explain further evident.

'I, well,' Aerie continued tremulously, eyes dropping to her cup, 'all the talk of knives and, well… it just reminded me of when they had to,' she faltered, her voice dropping to barely a whisper, 'r-remove my wings.'

Next to her, Nalia choked on her drink as she simultaneously tried to swallow and gasp and Fritha felt her jaw drop; she never thought Aerie would _actually_ tell him. Aerie was either oblivious or ignoring them though, her gaze still fixed on her cup, while Haer'Dalis just looked painfully confused.  
'Your _wings_?'

Fritha watched Aerie flush, almost looking as though she regretted her admission, though there really was nothing to be done now and she seemed to realise it too, her voice coming tentative and quiet.  
'Y-Yes, I am an avariel, a-a winged-elf, though I was captured as a slave some years ago and my- my wings were lost to disease.'

'Aerie,' he breathed, looking genuinely horrified, 'I- I had no idea. And all this time I called you dove and, well…'

Haer'Dalis trailed off with the same stricken look he'd worn when he'd thought the troupe were dead and Fritha felt a strange emptiness wash over her. She stood, her voice sounding strange in her ears.  
'I should go and change.'

Haer'Dalis glanced up as though to speak, but she had already turned to leave the table, Nalia rising an instant later and managing to catch her arm at the foot of the stairs, the girls concealed in the flurry of patrons coming down for dinner.

'Fritha, dearest, oh, confound her!' the girl cried, the words coming jumbled and rushed in her outrage, 'what in Ao's name is Aerie doing bringing _that_ up, of all things. The only reason she told _us _was because she was overcome in my cellar!'

Fritha shrugged, wishing she had just gone straight to her room and never even spoken to any of them.

'Perhaps it was as she said, all that talk of the murders bringing back the memories of it,' she reasoned dully, the faintly sick feeling she had carried with her since the house now stronger than ever. Nalia snorted, but Fritha could believe it, especially when she considered how easily memories of the dungeon surfaced for her.

'You cannot honestly believe that! She could have said anything, made up any excuse for her reaction, but she did not.' Nalia frowned, fixing Fritha with a dark gaze. '_You_ may not be willing to fight for Haer'Dalis's attentions, but that doesn't mean she isn't!'

Fritha sighed tersely, feeling her jaw clench.

'Nalia, I know you don't like Aerie so much at the moment, but I really wish you would not portray her so, because it makes me think I should be defending her and I really don't feel like it right now! Oh, sod this!' she burst out, suddenly sick of even _thinking _about the bard, 'I'm going for a wash.'

xxx

Fritha sighed, her legs unreasonably heavy as she trudged up the last few stairs and into the hallway. She had always be very aware of the fact that Haer'Dalis could well have been flirting with her for the mere entertainment of it, especially when he seemed happy enough to tease her with talk of his _dove_. But, now it seemed likely that real feelings did lie beneath the cavalier demeanour, and ones that did _not_ appear to be intent upon herself.

She thought back to the look he had given Aerie when she had told him, so intense and full of feeling, and Fritha could not recall a time when he had seemed so moved by anything. She shook her head darkly. He preferred Aerie, he had to.  
_He could have just been concerned about her…_

Fritha scowled, knowing she was no closer to the truth of things than she had been that morning and feeling more than irritated by it.  
Oh, why bother with this useless questioning? What did any of it matter? Especially since at that moment in time she would have gladly swapped the whole damned headache for a hot bath and a night's untroubled sleep.

_And what does that say about the sincerity of _your_ feelings?_ something in the back of her mind whispered, though she was given no longer to consider this, one of the doors suddenly opening to reveal Anomen, dark blue cloak about his shoulders and key in hand, the man starting as he turned to lock his door and finally noticed her.

'Fritha!' he exclaimed, closing to her side in one stride and she anticipated his concern.

'Don't worry, Anomen,' she interrupted, holding up a hand to placate him, 'I'm fine.'

'But, what on Toril has happened to you?'

She sighed, steeling herself to relate the story yet again.  
'Jaheira and I found the murderer. His house, funnily enough, was full of skin.'

'Skin?' Anomen's brow creased with a frown not meant for her. 'He was storing it? For what reason?'

Fritha shook her head as the memories resurfaced, her head pressed to the floorboards, one hand stretched into the darkness under his bed, fingers brushing something soft, almost downy…

'He was a tanner by trade,' she finally answered with a deep breath, considerable effort going on not being sick again, 'he was making it into clothes.'

Anomen looked no less than horrified.  
'Helm's mercy!' he breathed, staring at her as though he could barely believe what she had said, 'why would anyone do such a thing?'

Fritha shrugged, a slight bitterness creeping into her voice.

'We don't know. He's dead and his accomplice escaped by boat. We spent the last few hours searching his house with some of the city guard, but apart from bodies and leather, we found nothing to give any indication as to why he was doing what he was doing or where his colleague could have gone.'

Anomen nodded once, his resolve reassuring.  
'Well, at least the monster is dead and the city safer for it. And are you well, Fritha?' he continued more gently, his brow furrowed once more, 'you look pale.'

She snorted humourlessly, wiping a finger across her grimy forehead.  
'I'm surprised you can tell _what_ colour I am under all this.'

But he persisted to look concerned and she gave him a wan smile

'I'm all right. I've been better, but I'm all right. You go to meet Lirsand's friend?'

He nodded and she smiled, wishing him well and the two parted, Anomen disappearing down the stairs as she rooted gingerly in her bag for her key, finally escaping to the solitude of her room.

Fritha did not wish for a trip to the bathhouse, not when it was likely Jaheira would be there as well, ready to press talk from her, and she could not be bothered to summon a maid and wait while a bath was brought up to her room. And so Fritha settled for stripping to her underwear to stand before the dresser, filling the washbowl from the plain cracked jug of water already there and washing herself as best she could, her skin bristling in protest as the cold soaped cloth was scrubbed up over her arms.

It was not so bad though. Covered though her arms, face and feet had been, the rest of her was quite clean, her clothes bearing the worst of the gore. Fritha glanced to the pile in the corner where she had thrown them. She would have to take them over to the laundress later, though she would wait to see if the others had any as well; Jaheira surely would.

Her wash over with, Fritha emptied the ruddy water out the window and pulled a pair of clean trousers from her bag. The crisp black linen felt fresh and pleasant as she pulled them on and she was halfway into a dark blue tunic of the same material when a knock sounded at her door.

'Come in.'

The door opened and even with half a tunic and a mass of ginger curls over her eyes, Fritha could recognise the long freckled face peering around it.

'Hello Nalia.'

'Fri- oh, forgive me,' the girl apologised, turning to close the door behind her and taking a good deal longer about it that she would have usually. 'I did not think you would still be changing.'

'It's not a problem,' Fritha answered absently, still straightening out the shoulders of the tunic and smoothing it down, turning to the dresser as she continued. 'If you are here to talk about the lovebirds, then I'd really rather not.'

Nalia sent her a pained look, crossing to sit on the bed.  
'Oh, Fritha, I cannot tell you how cross I am with Aerie about this. I don't care what you say, it really was unfair of her.'

Fritha merely shrugged, sitting to unpin her hair and take up her comb, her hair oil next it and untouched in her despondency.  
'_If_ it was deliberate, which I am disinclined to believe it was. Can you not even consider that perhaps I am right and it was as she said, the talk of the murders awakening upsetting memories for her.'

Nalia snorted incredulously.  
'The only thing Aerie was upset about then, was the way Haer'Dalis was looking at you.'

But this revelation did not awaken the same warm thrill as it had the night before… well, maybe just a glimmer.  
Fritha sighed deeply. Her affection had felt so fair and sincere to begin with, but all this fuss and worry seemed to be corrupting the thing, twisting it into something far more calculated and narrow-eyed.

Fritha paused in her brushing and glanced to the mirror before her. Anomen had been right, she was pale. She shook her head.

'Let us abandon trying to divine _why_ Aerie told him,' Fritha continued, stalwartly ignoring the girl's frown as she glanced back to her, 'and look at the fact she actually did. She must really like him, Nalia, I mean, _really _like him.'

But the girl shook her head, standing from the bed to move behind her, her face joining Fritha's in the mirror, stern and determined.  
'The choice is _his_. That is what you said, is it not? But he has to know he has a choice, Fritha. Just- just go back down to the table, take his hand and just say, Haer'Dalis, I am pleased that you are with this group.'

Fritha felt her stomach lurch unpleasantly at the mere thought.  
'No, no! It's too soon. I can't. Perhaps in a couple more days, when things are clearer.'

'Clearer?' repeated Nalia with a confused frown, 'Fritha, you do like him, don't you?'

Fritha opened her mouth to answer and suddenly stopped. Yes, she did like him when he was there with her, joking or talking about music or her theatre, but then he would turn and be just as engaging with Aerie. It wasn't that she was particularly jealous of the attention he showed the elf, but Fritha had hoped that when she met someone that they would just like her and her alone, and she felt there was something very sad about having to fight for someone's attentions.

And then came the issue of what to do if she actually caught him! Like Haer'Dalis though she did, Fritha was still all cold reluctance when it came to ideas of anything more intimate, and she could not help but worry that if she rushed into a relationship through fears of losing him to Aerie, they may both end up regretting it quite soon afterwards.

'Dearest?' prompted Nalia again and Fritha sighed with frustration.

'Yes, no, oh, I don't know! He makes me feel- but then there's Aerie- and I've got to remember the group- Oh, so many conflicting feelings! It's like I'm going mad! I wish I could just take them all out of myself, just put them in a jam jar in my bag until all this is over with!'

Fritha sank forward with a groan, laying her face upon her folded arms, her hair spilling about her to curtain her off from the world. A voice at her shoulder, tentative, concerned.

'Fritha, dearest… are you crying?'

'No, I'm bloody _not_!' Fritha burst out, straightening with a ferocity to whirl on the girl. 'Why am I even bothering with this? He's liked her from the beginning! He never saw me as anything more than the living embodiment of his Doomguard philosophies. Even his name for me serves as ample clue.' She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. '_Raven_. A pretty epithet. The bird that lives on carrion and makes its life in the death of others; he has the measure of me, all right.'

She groaned again, her frustrations spent, dropping her head onto the dresser and barely registering it as the comb was taken from her unresisting fingers.

'Here, let me,' came Nalia softly, as though coaxing a child and she felt hands gently gathering the hair back from her shoulders, the faint scent of almonds filling the air as she felt the girl smooth the oil down her hair and begin to gently comb it through.

They were silent for a long while after that, Fritha eventually straightening in her seat to let the girl comb more easily; just sat, elbows resting on the dresser and chin cupped in her hands as she watched Nalia in the mirror before her. The girl was seemingly absorbed in her work, her slight frown of concentration deepening now and then with some knot or tangle, until the comb ran smoothly through a dozen or so times and she finally was satisfied.

'Thank you,' said Fritha quietly, finally breaking the silence and turning to the girl behind her. 'I'm sorry about this. I must sound like a proper little harpy. I should be happy for her… for them.'

'For them?' Nalia repeated, taking her shoulders as though to press her confidence into her, 'Haer'Dalis likes you, I'm sure of it. He just…'

She trailed off with an uncomfortable look and Fritha smiled ruefully.

'Likes Aerie as well. Yes, I know.'

Nalia's grip tightened on the comb, her look suddenly earnest.  
'Fritha, it's not too late. Here, I'll dress your hair, you can put on your embroidered tunic and we can go down together-'

'No, no, no,' Fritha cut in firmly, shaking her head, 'I'm far too old, busy and, dare I say it, _sensible_ to do anything of the sort. Quite apart from the fact I don't feel I should have to, it would be like getting him to compare a thoroughbred Cormyrian racehorse with a lame donkey.'

'Fritha!' cried Nalia, amused and appalled in the same breath while Fritha laughed ruefully. 'You obviously embroidered that tunic for a reason. Why are so set against the idea of wearing it?'

Fritha frowned.  
'It's not wearing it, it's wearing it for _him_.'

'But _why_?' came Nalia again and Fritha sighed, smiling slightly.

'Do you really want to know? Because I'm a coward, Nalia. A wretched fearful coward. And quite apart from the fact the idea of even _kissing_ Haer'Dalis at this moment in time petrifies me, I just don't think I could bear the idea of letting him know I liked him only to be rejected. But,' she continued, her voice strengthening slightly, 'it seems Sune as well as Tymora favours the brave, and for all her tears, Aerie is behaving with a lot more courage than I am in this.'

She glanced back to her reflection, wondering how she could still look so normal when she felt so melancholy.

'I just wanted to be friends first. I just wanted to be myself and see if anything was to slowly grow between us as we travelled and worked together. I wanted him to like me, as I like him. But it seems his regard is split, and none too evenly either, I'll warrant, and I have to fight for enough things in my life without adding affection to the list.' Fritha shook her head, smiling ruefully. 'Ah, I've already lost, haven't I?'

Nalia sent her a sad look, seeming unable to refute it and Fritha nodded once, twisting her hair up and pinning it as she stood.

'I'm going to the theatre; do you want to come too?'

'No, no, I should wait here for Minsc.'

Fritha nodded, stepping into her sandals and belting on her sword.

'I'll see you later then. My key's on the dresser, just lock the door as you leave, will you.'

Downstairs, Haer'Dalis and Aerie were still at the table in silence, the account of Aerie's past horrors no longer occupying them it seemed, though whether because they had run out of things to talk about or it was simply no longer necessary once Fritha had left the table, the girl did not know. The elf glanced up from her cup as she approached though, looking drawn, and Fritha wonder briefly if she did not regret how things were progressing.

'Ah, my raven,' came Haer'Dalis as she passed, standing to hail her, his look concerned behind the smile and she considered she had never seen him greet anyone quite so politely. 'Are you back to join us?'

Fritha shook her head, slowing her pace but not stopping, a bright smile plastered to her face.  
'Fraid not, I've got things to do over at the theatre. Perhaps I'll see you both later.'

Haer'Dalis looked as though he would have questioned her. So did Aerie for that matter, but Fritha's feet had carried her past and out before either could voice a word to halt her.

Outside the air was cool and light, the first chill of autumn in the breeze and at last she felt able to breathe. She stood there a pace or so from the door, unmindful of the passers-by as she drew deep grateful breaths. Rejiek's house had put a lot of things into perspective; reminded her that, however hard it was watching someone eclipse you in another's affections, there was still much to be grateful for.  
She was alive, she was free, she still had all her skin…  
_That wasn't funny_

No, but life generally wasn't and it had never stopped her laughing before. One last deep lungful, the scent of the great unwashed and her own hair tickling her nose, and she was off, walking smartly down the street towards the bridge.


	24. The art of losing

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**The art of losing**

Anomen marched briskly along the street, rather glad of his cloak as a cool autumn breeze whipped round him, the tavern he had been directed to in a district of the slums poor even by their standard, the street lined with small dreary houses, rundown and all leaning into each other as though drunk.

His day had been a slow one and he was happy to be out of the inn and on his way to another meeting, the long hours of study both at the Order's library and in his own room leaving him with too much chance to brood. If he'd know he would be free he could have tried to get a message to meet his sister, but once he'd thought of it, it was too late; he always had to send them early to guarantee his father would not intercept them and cause trouble for the girl, and Moira would have needed time to create an appropriate excuse as well.

Anomen sighed. They usually met in a park near to his house, and at noon he had taken a break from his work, bought some salted bread from a street vender and gone there to eat, walking along the white stone paths amongst the trees and hedges, almost unnatural in their neatness, hoping that by some chance Moira would have come there anyway. But he saw no sign of her and returned to the inn slightly disheartened to continue his studies until the hour of his meeting drew close.

Anomen frowned to himself as he recalled Fritha's haunted look when he had met her on his departure. After matins that morning, he had spoken briefly with Oisig, the priest telling him, amongst other things, that Sassar's sight had finally returned to the degree that he could move about safely and he had left the city on a pilgrimage a day or so before. Anomen frowned again, wishing he had remembered to tell Fritha when he'd seen her before, sure such news would have gone a long way to improving her mood.

It was unfortunate the way things had turned out and it seemed a cruel fate that had set each the task least suited to them, for his work as a healer had made him used to dealing with bodies of varying condition and the girl certainly did not mind dealing with thieves. In fact, the way she talked of Renal, he expected them to be announcing their engagement any day now.

Anomen shook off this slight twinge of annoyance, glancing up to finally see the tavern he had been heading for, a couple of men already passed out in the street before it, while a third was stood next to them being sick.

Inside was little better, the people as grey and lifeless as the gloomy drab room they were sat in. Tables had been crammed in to the point where there was barely enough room between them to get by, most with one or two people hunched over them, drinking it seemed just for the sake of getting drunk, while rouged women sat chatting on some rickety wooden stairs that led up to the next floor, and Anomen suspected Lehtinan's was not the only brothel in the slums. Even so, he was clearly not the tavern's usual clientele and many patrons glanced up as he entered, taking in the fine woollen cloak and good stout boots, some resentful, though the mace at his hip kept anyone from voicing their displeasure.

With no way of knowing who he was looking for, he ordered a drink and took a table against the far wall in good view of both the door and the bar, though he had barely been seated for more than a moment when one of the women decided he must be fair game and left her friends on the stairs to trip over to him, squeezing her ample frame between the tables with a unexpected grace.

'You looking for company, pet?' she smiled and Anomen could not help but feel slightly insulted. The woman was easily old enough to be his mother! Even if he was there for such things, she could at least credit him with having a modicum of taste.

'No, thank you,' he answered bluntly, barely glancing up from his ale, though she paid him no mind, settling herself on the bench next to him with the creak of whalebone and a grin.

'Now let's not be so hasty.'

Anomen frowned, his frustrations rising.

'Really, madam, I am not interested in anything you may be offering.'

'Oh no?' she cooed, snaking an arm along his back and leaning in to whisper, 'Sestus sends his regards.'

Lirsand's friend. Anomen stiffened, gazing out over the sea of faces.

'He is here?'

The woman chuckled slightly, her voice still low.

'Oh aye, he's in the back, pet. But all eyes'll be on someone like you here and the boy don't want to been seen. Best they think you're coming with me.'

He nodded once and followed her as she stood to lead him through the tavern and up the stairs. The back, as the woman had called it, was even darker than the common room, just a long corridor, doorways leading off on either side while couples stood, talking and laughing, paying them no mind as they passed, the woman finally turning into the last room.

It was small, only enough room for the bed and chair, its occupant standing as soon as they entered and Anomen was suddenly stood opposite a lean pale lad, his broad open face looking little older than Avis's.

'Thank you for coming,' Sestus began, reaching out to heartily shake his hand and politely offering him the chair before turning to give a small purse to the woman. 'And thanks to you as well, Ivy, can you wait upstairs until were finished?'

The woman smiled and nodded once. 'Aye, as you will, pet.'

Sestus sighed, running a hand through his short sandy hair and sinking onto the bed as she closed the door.

'I apologise for all this secrecy, but I can't let anyone know I have Lirsand's whereabouts. This new guild has got everyone at our place looking over their shoulders, and I don't want to give the thief master any reason to bring me in for questioning. Especially seen as I don't know anything.'

Anomen straightened with surprise and the chair creaked warningly.

'You do not? But you just said you know of Lirsand's whereabouts.'

Sestus nodded.

'Yes, but he hasn't defected like Renal thinks, well not to this new guild anyways. He and Helenya have joined up with a gang who are working the trade roads south, just outside the city.'

'They've become bandits!' Anomen exclaimed, Sestus holding up a hand as though to calm him.

'Now, don't go getting me wrong. Lirsand's a good friend and he wouldn't be messed up in anything bloody. The only reason he left _our_ guild was because Helenya's parents got the Watch on him and he couldn't make his tithes with them breathing down his neck. He was over at the Crooked Crane near the city gates when he met with these two who were there keeping an eye on what caravans would be leaving the city that day, numbers of guards and the like. Apparently they got talking and offered him a place with them. I never met them myself, but Lirsand said they were all right sorts and there's no way he'd have had Helenya join him if he was in any doubt.' The lad smiled faintly. 'He loves that girl more than life.'

'The group are just taking a cut of trade that's heading for Tethyr, and then letting the caravans pass by unharmed. Every few days he'd return to the Crane after dark to learn more about the caravans and we'd meet up.'

Anomen frowned slightly, the man's casual description of this robbery irking him.

'So why are you telling me this? You surely know I am charged with Helenya's return.'

Sestus sighed, his face darkening and Anomen could see the worry etched there.

'Because I was supposed to meet Lirsand again a couple of days ago, only he didn't turn up.'

'There could be many reasons for that,' offered Anomen promptly and Sestus shook his head.

'Perhaps, but I don't like it. At our last meeting he was, well, tense. The trade's been easing off now summer's over and the group are getting short of supplies. He tried to play it down, but…' The thief sighed deeply. 'Lirsand's no fool, but he sees the best in people, and he's too nice for his own good sometimes. Truth be told, I'm worried for him, him and Helenya both.'

The thief stood to take a neat square of parchment from his pocket, sitting again as he passed it to Anomen and the squire unfolded it to find a roughly drawn map of the southern forests.

'Here, I've marked on it where Lirsand said they were last camped. Tell him to send Helenya back to the city and come back himself too. Renal's a reasonable enough sort, we can explain it all to him together. And I've been saving all but my tithes; if her parents send Helenya to Waterdeep, then we'll follow.'

Sestus was leaning forward slightly, his young face earnest and resolute; the lad was willing to risk his livelihood and perhaps even his life, and Anomen suddenly realised that whether thief or not, he was clearly a loyal friend. He nodded once, feeling a strange respect for the man.

'I shall tell him.'

xxx

A stiff breeze was blowing up river as Haer'Dalis walked along the bridge, the sky before him blazing gold from the sunset and the brightly lit windows of the Five Flagons seemed hollow by comparison. He sighed, trying to ignoring the twinge of reluctance he felt as he reached the inn.

Aerie and Fritha. The girls were suddenly more similar than he had first believed, at least in their distress; the choice between them was getting more difficult. It had all just seemed liked fun before, almost unreal, but only an hour later found the situation much more serious and part of him didn't want to make a choice. Whatever he did someone would be hurt and the decision for whom would be landing squarely on his shoulders.

Firstly, Fritha had arrived back, grey and tired, and Haer'Dalis recalled clearly her troubled look as she had talked of the murders, her habitual distance finally lessening. But then Aerie had so taken him by surprise with her confession of past tortures and before he had recovered from that shock Fritha had left for her room, Nalia disappearing with her.

Poor Aerie. She had spent an age trying to reassure him all was well, that she had never minded being called dove, that she had wanted to tell him, but Haer'Dalis could tell she had been upset and, for his part, he could not help but feel uncomfortable about the revelation and silence had soon fallen between them. And then Fritha had passed them with that bright false smile twisting her face, and he knew he had to speak with her.

He had finished his wine merely for politeness before mentioning he wished to visit the theatre as well, and though Aerie did not want to accompany him, she had nodded gravely when he said he would be going, no hint of her previous jealousy. But as adamant as he had been, Haer'Dalis could not help but feel a touch reluctant when it came to seeing Fritha now, the bard suddenly unsure of his reception. He sighed again, glancing up at the inn, the laughter that drifted through one of the open windows somehow chilling, before he pushed open the door to finally step inside.

Rehearsals were taking place, though, thankfully, Samuel had recognised him from his time with the Sigil troupe and let him down into the theatre, the actors paying him no mind as he skirted along the wall to the stage and through the wings. Once backstage, a passing stagehand told him that the Patron was up on the flies, and Haer'Dalis ascended the wooden steps to find Fritha sat, feet dangling over the edge of the catwalk, her back cloaked in the darkness of the rafters, hands and face awash with light from the stage. Her attention, though, was not on the actors beneath her, her eyes upon her hands as she slowly drew a file across her nails, and he took a moment to watch her, the girl absently reciting their lines under her breath.

'Oh, Karenina, back from me, your love will be our doom. Sweet Velden, your cold words belie a passionate heart, I-'

He shifted slightly and the rail creaked beneath his hand, alerting her to him before he could announce himself and she glanced up sharply, a sudden hope flashing behind her eyes before they narrowed with a mild frustration, to finally be lost to the blank look she wore so well as she turned back to her hands.

Haer'Dalis frowned, unsure of how to proceed. It was all very well being able to read another's mood on their face, but it only worked if they themselves knew what they were feeling. He said nothing at first, moving to sit beside her, close enough to touch her if he wished, but there was still a gap between them, silence holding them a moment longer before he finally felt settled enough to break it.

'Was this the pressing task that swept you from our company before, my raven?' he asked gently, gesturing to her filing and hoping that being caught would make her honest. But the girl just shrugged, not looking to him as she answered.

'I came to help them with the sewing, but Wynn finished the last of it this morning.'

'You could have come back,' he pressed.

'I prefer it here,' she answered mildly, the hint of a sigh creeping in and he felt slightly disappointed that their previous distance seemed to have returned as silence fell again, the voices of the actor's drifting up to them.

'_Prepare the horses, Karenina is to leave here this very night.'_

'_But master, you said she was to remain here till the spring.'_

'_Reside_. Reside here till the spring,' Fritha muttered to her filing. Haer'Dalis smiled.

'You have learnt the play already, my raven?'

She glanced up, looking for a moment surprised to find him there, before she answered.

'I've looked over it a couple of times, I suppose I just remember this part.'

Haer'Dalis felt his smile broaden. He had suspected for sometime now that the girl was more than "merely a mercenary" as she had rather casually described herself when they'd first met, and now was as good a time as any to press the truth from her.

'Come now,' he laughed genially, 'there is no need for such modesty. For one such as you, memorising a play is hardly a feat.'

The girl drew back, blinking owlishly and for just a moment he was sure he saw a flash of panic in her dark eyes.

'One such as I?'

Haer'Dalis sent her a knowing smile.

'Really, Fritha, do you expect _I_ should not recognise it in you, even if the others remain ignorant.'

She was gazing back at him, eyes travelling over his person and seeming to rest for more than a moment on his hair, before she shook her head and turned away, her voice wavering and strangely anxious.

'I'm really not sure what you're talking about, Haer'Dalis.'

He tugged at her sleeve to get her to look back at him, her reaction catching him out.

'You have had formal training in the arts, have you not? Music, the poets?'

She blinked again and suddenly she was beaming, nodding her head as she laughed quietly and Haer'Dalis could almost taste her relief.

'Yes. Yes, of course.'

The bard smiled as well. He had a strong feeling that there had been more to her alarm than what she'd admitted to, though he pushed his curiosity back for now, content to pursue _this_ secret while she was apparently willing. He relaxed the hand at her sleeve, letting it rest casually on her arm.

'I told you we had more in common than I first realised,' he smiled, but Fritha just snorted.

'Hardly. I make my living by the sword not song, well, unless you count the time early on in my training when Imoen offered me everything she owned to go and practise somewhere far away from her.'

Haer'Dalis laughed, unconvinced.

'Perhaps, but the skills are still there. Tell me, do you act?'

The girl smiled slightly. 'Does lying count?'

Haer'Dalis frowned, but chose to ignore this.

'Do you play an instrument then?'

'The lute.'

Haer'Dalis smiled. 'Truly? It is back at the inn?'

'No, I lost it when we were captured by Irenicus.' Fritha sighed, looking sad for a moment before shrugging absently. 'Such is life.'

'A shame truly. I play the lyre well enough to impress those who know no better; together we could have drawn quite the crowd.'

But Fritha just shook her head, impassive.

'I don't think so. I never really liked playing for other people, I get nervous.'

Haer'Dalis smiled generously.

'Ah, my raven, such a thing is more common than you would think amongst performers, but with the right techniques it is easily overcome. I would be happy to give you some lessons.'

'Oh, it's kind of you to offer, but I think you'll be quite busy enough helping Aerie's talents blossom,' she answered mildly, turning back to her filing with a smirk and Haer'Dalis drew back slightly.

Fritha played these games too well, or at least, too flawlessly, and he was never sure whether she was teasing him or actually irked. He watched as she held her nails up to the light to inspect her work, finally satisfied it seemed, as she swapped the file over and made a start on her other hand.

Fritha gazed at her fingers, just dark silhouettes with the light of the stage behind them. Her heart was beating heavily and she could feel the tremble she was suppressing in her hands, glad for the moment when she could pass the file casually from one to the other and occupy herself with filing once more.

Why did he have to come here? She had been so close to just giving up on the whole thing and now she was unsure again. He seemed to be impossibly close and though he had removed his hand from her arm, she could still feel the warmth it had left there.

'You disapprove my teaching Aerie to act?' the bard asked and Fritha felt her stomach tighten, forcing herself to look at him as she answered.

'_Disapprove_? Why should I? Aerie has been through much, as now you know, anything to bring her a little joy is fine by me.'

Haer'Dalis was watching her carefully, but Fritha just smiled, confident in her mask. After all, the best deceptions were just misleading truths and she had spoken no word of a lie.

'Ah, yes,' he continued, shaking his head gravely, 'our dove's taste of a cage, a terrible thing. I must confess to being quite taken aback when she told me. I assume the rest of you knew.'

'No, only I and Nalia,' she confessed, taking a perverse pleasure in adding, 'Aerie must trust you quite a bit to tell you of it.'

'Yes…' he said slowly, still watching her as he continued, 'she seems to be a trusting soul; an even more unexpected quality considering what she has been through. She is so innocent and gentle, I am surprised she has managed to retain a heart so full of goodness after such suffering. It is so unlike myself and others I know,' he glanced to her with a smile, 'I cannot help but find her kindness interesting.'

Well, there you had it. He really couldn't have put it any plainer for her. He liked Aerie, just as he'd hinted and alluded ever since this had all begun. A strange rush of emotions surged in her, a horrible empty feeling suddenly yawning under her ribs and she struggled with the conflicting desires of wanting to burst into tears or shove him off the flies. But in the end she just sighed, turning back to her hands with a slight smile.

'Aerie's not as innocent as she seems. There is a strength beneath her soft look. Like those flowers that grow in the coldest North; such pale delicate blooms, but their roots go deep; they can survive conditions that would kill other plants.' Fritha smiled as she recalled the elf's surprised look after she had destroyed the beholder; it was hard not to be fond of her even with all that had happened recently. 'She has strengths you have yet to see.'

He looked as though he would reply to that, but the sound of Higgold ending the rehearsal cut him off.

'Right, that's all for tonight everyone. Davith, I think you may need to look over your lines a touch more, but other than that nice performances all round.' The man turned to look up at her. 'What did you think, my lady?'

Fritha smiled, forcing a buoyancy she did not feel into her voice.

'Very nice and good projection too, I could hear you all the way up here. That's important,' she added with a grin, 'I plan to have a full house on our opening night.'

A gentle laugh travelled the actors, and Fritha watched them disband before standing herself, Haer'Dalis following her back up to the tavern and out into the street. The sun was almost set now, the wind more bracing than it had been earlier and though not cold, it was unexpected and Fritha could not quite suppress a shiver as the first breeze caught her.

'Are you cold, my raven?'

Fritha sent him a contemplative look, fighting hard against the fluttering that had suddenly begun in her stomach. She had read enough romance novels in her youth to know what came next should she answer in the affirmative.  
What _was_ he playing at? He had just spent the last half an hour telling her how _fascinating_ Aerie was, and then in practically the same breath he goes and reasserts himself with her. Was he just being nice or perhaps looking to make Aerie jealous?

Fritha just did not understand what he meant by any of it and suddenly she did not care. She shrugged mildly.

'I suppose.'

He slipped off his jacket immediately and she allowed him to put it about her shoulders. It smelt of him, of the dust of the flies and a faintly musky undertone, a single long blue hair still clinging to the collar. It was nice stood there in his coat, warm and comfortable, the slightly awkward feeling of the sleeves hanging empty at her shoulders merely adding to the unfamiliar sensation. And that was when she made her decision.

She had once wondered whether just flirting with the man would be enough and in that moment it seemed it very much was. Haer'Dalis liked Aerie, and probably always had, but if he wanted to flirt with her as well and get the elf all aflame with jealous affection, then that was his concern and it was somehow easier to enjoy now Fritha knew it would not lead to anything.  
Besides, it was rare for men to pay her any attention of that sort, (she wondered how many of them even saw past her sword) and it wasn't as though she had the opportunity to enjoy such things very often.

_Try, ever! _sniped her mind and she snorted, hiding her laughter behind her hand, feeling suddenly giddy with melancholy and Haer'Dalis sent her a sidelong glance.

'Is something amusing, my raven?'

Fritha shook her head with a smile.

'No, nothing, nothing. Come, let's get you back to your dove.'

xxx

They walked back to the inn in silence, even and reflective. A few times Haer'Dalis turned to her as though to speak, but would always just turn back to their path again without a word and Fritha was glad of it. It would have been awful to stand there with him gently explaining the obvious to her, telling her how he valued their _friendship _or some other trite nonsense, and Fritha wondered absently why people bothered trying to spare each other's feelings in such situations. It would sting whichever way you told someone you did not return their regard, at least have the decency to be blunt. After all, they would be in a much better starting position for getting over their un-requiting paramour if they could spend the next tenday raging about what a heartless bastard they were.

Fritha smiled. No, all in all, it was much better with things left unsaid, and she was rather enjoying the walk in an empty sort of way; wrapped in his coat and lost in absent dreams of another life.

The inn was ahead of them now, the windows aglow with a welcoming light and Fritha wished she had made some excuse to stay in the darkness of her theatre. It was too late for such thoughts now though, and she allowed Haer'Dalis to open the door for her, entering to find Aerie still sat where she had left her. The druid had finally joined the table as well and the pair glanced up as they approached, Aerie's eyes round as she took in the coat at her shoulders, colour creeping into her cheeks as she hurriedly emptied her cup and stood, teapot in hand.

'Oh, you- you are back,' she stuttered, suddenly unable to meet their eyes, 'well, I think I may, ah, fetch some more, well, please excuse me.'

And with that Aerie turned and fled to the bar, Haer'Dalis's gaze following the elf before he glanced back to her and Fritha had never seen him look so unsure.

'Tis your cue, sparrow,' she said with a forced mildness, gesturing after the girl. The man said nothing though, merely sent her a contemplative frown before pushing past to follow the elf. Fritha sighed, shrugging off his coat to take a seat and laying it neatly on the table next to her as she helped herself to some ale.  
Well, she had known it would be so; there was no point getting upset about it now.

'Cold are we?' came Jaheira.

Fritha sighed, taking a long draft of the bitter liquid.

'No, not particularly,' she answered finally, glancing up to notice the druid's gaze upon the coat at her elbow and Fritha swallowed, dropping her attention back to her drink as Jaheira gave a deep sigh.

'Fritha, if you like him-'

'I don't,' she interrupted quickly, conceding at the druid's measured look, 'I mean I do, but-' she stopped and drew a measured breath, 'his feelings lie elsewhere.'

Jaheira raised a sceptical eyebrow.

'And how are you so sure?'

Fritha felt herself colour but answered promptly all the same, evenly meeting the woman's gaze.

'He talks about her when we're alone together, has done ever since he joined us really.' She shrugged. 'I can't see him doing that with her about me.'

Jaheira frowned slightly. The girl had a point. It was a rare courting technique that involved mention of the other woman, and by the look on the girl's face, it had not been pleasant to hear. It was difficult to tell sometimes whether the tiefling was obtuse or just incredibly unkind.

'He says she's innocent…' Fritha continued, eyes determinedly fixed on her cup as she took another drink, 'he finds it _interesting_.'

Jaheira snorted, feeling suddenly angry that Fritha was still young enough to be injured by such silliness, and that the other two were old enough to have forgotten how it could hurt.  
'Aerie is not as innocent as she makes out, and she certainly has nothing on you!'

'Me?' laughed Fritha, though more with disbelief than any real amusement. 'I'm no ingénue in this. I know what he's doing, letting her see me in his coat to make her jealous, get a reaction.'

'Then why go along with it?'

Fritha sighed and shook her head, unusually open as she answered her.

'Because, whether he meant it or not, I just wanted to see what it would feel like, a man's coat about me. It was nice, like I was owned, like I belonged to someone.'

Jaheira sent her a measured look

'Belonged to _him_?' she baited, but the girl did not rise to it, shrugging mildly.

'Belonged to anyone. So where is the harm? Haer'Dalis is my friend and I am resigned to nothing more.'

Jaheira snorted.

'You know _exactly_ where the harm lies: Aerie. And despite what you may think, you _are _a lot greener than she in this. She more than likely knows Haer'Dalis is trying to make her jealous.'

Fritha frowned slightly, genuinely puzzled.

'Then why did she get upset?'

'Well, I suspect she was trying not to, but emotions have a tendency to make themselves known.'

Fritha snorted with disdain. 'Amateurs.'

'Well, we can't all be as deft with lies as you are, girl,' Jaheira snapped, angry at Fritha's characteristic distance. 'But have you stopped to consider that perhaps there is sometimes more to gain by showing your emotions? At least the bard knows where he stands with her, which is more than can be said for you!'

Fritha felt her stomach grow hot. That was true enough; she had persistently concealed _her_ jealousy with a flawless mask of friendly indifference. What would he have inferred from that?  
And suddenly it was all painfully clear.  
_Oh dear…_

He hadn't been teasing her about Aerie for fun, or even for spite, but to see if she liked him. Jaheira was watching her with a gentle pained expression and, unreasonable though it was, Fritha had never wanted to scream at anyone so much in her life.

'Fritha, you hide away from everyone and you do it too well. I worry for you. If you have feelings for him, then let him know honestly before it is too late.'

With a will that felt like it could have moved the heavens, Fritha forced a smile. Not too bright, not too melancholy; a perfection in balance.

'Haer'Dalis is just a friend, Jaheira, we may flirt and such but it means nothing.'

But the woman merely shook her head with a weary sigh.

'Fritha… this is a dangerous game you're playing.'

'Oh, life's a dangerous game, and the stakes are much higher,' she snapped, the druid's words echoing her own mind in an unwelcome way.

'Oh, is that the attitude we are having now?' Jaheira snapped back, her temper finally winning through. 'Your games could split this group! Something that you railed quite vehemently against when it was _I_ causing the tension.'

'Fine,' Fritha shouted, standing to snatch the coat from the table before her, 'the ties will be cut!'

'Fritha-' Jaheira came more gently, reaching a hand across the table as though to sooth her, already regretting her sharpness it seemed. The girl remained unmoved.

'Oh, leave me alone, won't you. Here!' she snapped, turning to redirect her ire on the man stood at the bar behind her, Fritha throwing the coat to Haer'Dalis as she stalked past, he and the elf glancing up with surprise. 'My thanks.'

And with barely a moment to take in their shocked faces, she continued across the tavern and stormed off upstairs.

xxx

Fritha stood at her window, head resting upon the sill as she stared out over the city feeling tired and stupid.  
Why had it turned out like this? Why hadn't she seen from the begin what Haer'Dalis was doing? Always watching her reaction so carefully whenever he mentioned Aerie. Fritha felt another surge of anger. Why couldn't he have just been honest with her instead of playing such games?  
_Yes, honest, just like you've been._

Fritha shook her head. She had no right to be angry about it, not when she was as bad as he was. Nalia had told her to be more open with him, as had Jaheira. But it seemed it didn't really matter in the end. She had liked him, _did_ like him, but it was clear he favoured Aerie now and, be it pride or cowardice (or as Fritha suspected, a healthy mix of both), she had no intention of trying to change his mind.

Fritha drew a deep breath, blinking furiously and determined not to cry over something so stupid as she pulled her gaze back to the window. The streets were quiet now, the sun just a dark red sliver above the sea, and the whole city had a sleepy look.  
It reminded her of the night they had first arrived in the city, how she had looked out at the unfamiliar rooftops full of worry and sorrow as she thought of Imoen newly taken. Almost a month ago now and Athkatla was much more familiar to her, but she still didn't feel as though she belonged there.

A month; how many more would she see in that city before she raised enough to get Imoen back?

Fritha felt a steel creep into her stomach. That was why she was there, after all. Not for boys or plays or any other nonsense, but to raise coin for Imoen, and _that _is what she would focus on from now on.  
A knock at the door behind her, the person entering without invitation and she knew instinctively who it was before they even spoke.

'Fritha,' came Jaheira softly, and the girl glanced back to watch her cross the room and take the chair before the dresser. The woman had always had a nice way of moving; confident but undisruptive, as though she existed with her surroundings rather than forging through them. Fritha sighed, turning to lean with her back against the sill and offer the woman a wan smile.

'I am sorry I lost my temper before. I was angry with myself, not you.'

But Jaheira just waved her apology away with an understanding shake of her head.  
'Are you all right?'

'I'm fine,' she sighed, but the druid sent her a measured look.

'You are not so skilled at acting yet as to conceal things from me.'

Fritha was tempted to ask her to consider that perhaps she was and that her slight show of melancholy here was in fact a ruse to reveal she was lying and ensure later lies, flawlessly delivered, would be readily believed. But that would just be making things harder for herself in the long run and she kept silent. Jaheira sighed gently.

'Fritha, if you have feelings for him -and I really _cannot _see why you would,' she added with a frown, 'but if you do, then you must tell him honestly and let him make his decision openly. All this duplicity breeds only bitterness and will split this group.'

Fritha smiled faintly, glancing back to the somnolent city.

'There is music in his wake; I could not help but like him. But,' she continued, her voice becoming firmer, 'my regard is not returned, at least not in any equal way and since I can't have him wholly, it's best not to have him at all.'

Fritha sighed gently.

'Haer'Dalis is my friend. I will not fight to further it and, in that, Aerie does want this more than I.'

'And what of the flirting?' Jaheira continued with a stern look, 'this making Aerie jealous.'

'It's him that's doing it! I accept only what he sends me, I never solicit such advances!'

'Yes, Fritha, but people tend to blame the one they are not infatuated with!'

She opened her mouth as though to protest again, when she suddenly shook her head, defeated by the truth of it.  
'You're right. You are, I know it.' She drew a deep steeling breath. 'It causes problems and the group should come first… I will make sure things remain _deep _within the bounds of friendship from now on; no word too large, no glance too long.'

Jaheira nodded once, just as three resounding knocks sounded upon the door followed by a strangely tentative, 'Hello?'

Fritha smiled slightly.

'Come in, Nalia.'

The door opened, the girl taking a step into the room and stopping as she noticed the druid.

'Oh, Jaheira, I didn't expect…' she trailed off, Fritha moving to welcome her in as Nalia explained, 'I just spoke to Haer'Dalis and Aerie, they said you were downstairs talking to Jaheira when you suddenly stood up, threw his coat at him and stormed up here in a temper; they thought you two were fighting.'

Fritha gave the druid a wry smile.

'Wouldn't be the first time, would it? Is Haer'Dalis angry?' she continued more anxiously.

Nalia shook her head.

'No, more confused, I should say. Don't worry though,' she snorted, 'Aerie's_ comforting_ him.'

Fritha sighed, smiling ruefully as she slumped onto the bed.

'Ah, the game is won.'

'Yes,' reasoned Jaheira, 'but it doesn't necessarily make you the loser.'

'Quite,' Nalia agreed, cheering slightly, 'let's go back downstairs and have a hand of Talis to divert you.'

Fritha glanced up to her face; freckled and pretty with a forced sort of brightness to it, but at least she was trying. Fritha smiled as warmly as she was able.

'All right.'

xxx

But the three women had only just returned to the common room and begun a hand, when Anomen arrived back at the tavern and they immediately put aside their cards to hear his news, Aerie and Haer'Dalis joining them, a stiff sort of politeness descending on the table, everyone seemingly determined to pretend the last hour had not happened.

'How was the meeting?' asked Fritha, pouring him some ale as Anomen sank into the chair next to her, the man nodding his thanks.

'Fine. I learnt much.' And he related to them his meeting and all the lad had told him, the others about him quiet until he had finished.

'Well,' sighed Fritha, the first to break the silence that followed his account, 'there is only one thing to be done now, the investigation will have to be taken to the source. You said Sestus told you where these bandits were last camped?'

Anomen nodded.

'Indeed. About a half a day or so into the forests southeast of the city. Though that was a few days ago now; they may well have moved on.'

Fritha shrugged her acceptance of this, glancing to the others about her.

'Well, once Minsc returns that will be our tasks within the city complete. We can all set out for the camp tomorrow.'

'A sound plan,' agreed Anomen, taking a drink as he continued conversationally, 'as I was out, I heard rumours already travelling the slums that the Bridge murderer is dead.'

'Good news travels fast,' commented Jaheira dryly.

'I heard the Watch have already removed Rejiek's body. I imagine they will wait until nightfall before removing the rest considering their state- oh, your pardon,' he cut in suddenly with a glance to her as Fritha gave an involuntary shudder, 'I did not mean to…'

'No, no, it's fine,' Fritha smiled, waving his apology away. For the most part, she just felt numb about it all now, as though she had watched the whole thing happen to someone else. But that day had seen _far _too much honesty from her as it was, and she merely leaned back in her chair with a nonchalant shrug.

'Besides, it all adds to the experience. I'll be rooting blithely through skinless bodies in no time, turning up all sorts of things with barely the bat of an eyelid. Oh, do you like my new coat?' she continued affectedly, primly straightening an invisible sleeve. 'I found it on my last adventure. Genuine baby hide. I hear the Earl of Crimmor has one just like it.'

'Fritha!' snapped Jaheira, looking annoyed that she was hiding behind her humour as usual, but Fritha just laughed, the bard the only one it seemed who appreciated the joke.

'Perhaps this Rejiek _was_ hoping to start a new trend,' he offered with a smirk.

'Haer'Dalis!' reproached Aerie while Anomen shook his head gravely.

'Even to jest about such a thing is against the Gods.'

'I don't see how it can be against _all_ of them,' commented Fritha, casually emptying her cup, 'religion is a tricky thing. So many gods and all opposing each other; one man's sin is another man's salvation.'

Four faces turned to her, appalled, and Haer'Dalis laughed, clearly pleased with her intervention and she suspected she was forgiven her earlier outburst.

'Well observed, my raven, another round?'

And before anyone could answer either way, he had stood to pass her the teapot, taking up the empty ale-pitcher himself and Fritha had little choice but to follow him to the bar.

'Haer'Dalis, really!' Fritha complained as she weaved after him through the press of people, the weight of the pot shifting in her hands as liquid sloshed about inside it. 'This teapot is still half full!'

'Oh, bar that!' he hushed her genially, glancing back with a grin as they finally found an unoccupied section of bar, 'did you really wish to stay there and burn under the glare of their disapproval?'

Fritha smiled, shaking her head absently as she turned to place the teapot on the bar between them.  
'They merely wait for our return, you know,' she warned, but the bard just laughed, seeming to relish the trouble of it.

'Let them. Ah, my raven, did you mark the knightling's face? Oh, and the druid; if looks could kill.'

'Yes, and even your dove seems to have found her _talons_,' Fritha muttered mildly and the bard looked delighted, a broad smile lighting his features.

'Fritha, do I notice a hint of green creeping into your plumage?'

But the girl just laughed heartily and found it was a lot less forced than she would have thought.  
'I've no more jealousy in me, than you've sense in you,' she lied blithely, 'your favours are your own and you may bestow them where you please.'

Haer'Dalis grinned.

'Oh my raven, I am a mere mortal and ergo cannot help but be swayed by a fair countenance and even fairer heart,' he paused to send her a sly look, 'but I shall be forever sworn to you if you can make the knightling blush.'

Fritha laughed, shaking her head as a dozen ideas came to her unbidden, the voice grave behind her eyes.  
_Oh, not for the wide world._

Anomen had done nothing to earn such treatment, certainly not just for the bard's amusement, and Fritha was glad this first test of her resolve was such a painless one. Haer'Dalis was watching her carefully, perhaps seeing if she would take this chance to take up the game and reveal her feelings, but in the end she just smiled.

'I think you're a bad influence on me.'

'If nothing else is attributed to me in this fair Prime plane of yours, I shall be more than content!' he laughed, a grin lighting his face and Fritha recognised a mask when she saw one as he turned to the bar.

Haer'Dalis frowned slightly to himself, focusing on the myriad of bottles that covered the shelves behind the bar as the girl moved to stand next to him. A large group of mercenaries had just arrived and moved up to the bar, all shouting and laughing as they joined the waiting patrons, and the crowds already there shifted to accommodate, Fritha suddenly pressed against him. He thought she would at least blush after the fuss she had made before, but she hadn't even seemed to notice, all her attention on trying to catch the eye of the servers.

She glanced to him, giving him a friendly smile as an elbow in his back pressed him closer.

'It seems we've escaped one discomfort to find another. Jaheira would deem this the Balance at work.'

He smiled slightly at her quip.

'Divine retribution. Perhaps the gods did not think much of your theory. What _were _you and the druid quarrelling about before?'

'Oh nothing really,' she dismissed, the girl smiling slightly to herself, 'Jaheira was worried I was putting too much of my focus on the theatre and it was making me tired for my other responsibilities. And about that,' she continued, dipping her face slightly, her shame apparent, 'I am sorry if I seemed sharp before, I know I was in a temper with Jaheira, but I shouldn't have taken it out on you or anyone else.'

Haer'Dalis shook his head with a smile. He had been more surprised than offended and her contrition was so genuine, he doubted he could have remained angry with her even if he had been.

'Ah, worry not, my raven. Your day has hardly been peaceable, it is unsurprising it has coloured your mood.'

She looked at him and nodded once, suddenly grave and he felt there was much more behind her words as she replied, 'thank you, you are very kind.'

And then the moment was gone, and she was leaning across the bar to finally catch the attention of a serving girl, passing her the jug and teapot to be refilled.

Haer'Dalis sighed to himself as he stepped back slightly to watch her. Fritha was a confusing little thing. So warm one moment, so cold the next, it made his head ache just to try and work out what she was thinking and he wondered sometimes if she herself knew.

She was so cool in the theatre, talking about Aerie as though she wanted nothing more than to see him paired with the elf, but then the girl was happy for him to put his coat about her on their return. And then, but moments later, she was flinging it furiously back in his face.

Haer'Dalis shook his head. It was not hard to see she had suffered something in the past, the way she danced, hesitant, before a relationship as though a portal of unknown destination.

Normally, he would not have minded the challenge, especially when the prize was as fair as she, but the chase was only fun if you knew you would eventually catch your quarry. Raelis' rejection had left him wary, and though he did not believe Fritha would ever intentionally do the same, she was in a difficult situation and he could see quite clearly the circumstance where he would finally corner the girl for her to turn about, sadly shake her head and say she could not put the group aside for him.

And then there was sweet Aerie, all warm and temperate and already so devoted.  
She was so unlike him, so unlike anyone he had been attracted to before and though he said it as much for Fritha's reaction as anything, he truly did find her innocence fascinating. Even courting her did not feel like a chore, but merely something they could enjoy together, the girl giving as much to it as he, and she appreciated his talents even if she was not always as ignorant of them as she pretended to be.

He glanced back through the crowds to their table to find the elf clearly searching the press for him, her eyes finally catching him and lighting with joy to find him watching her. She waved and blushed soundly. Haer'Dalis smiled; the decision was made.

xxx

Fritha drew in a deep measured breath of cool evening air, watching the lights of the city lain out and flickering before her, the low rumble of the tavern beneath the only thing to break the stillness of the empty street. The group had played another few rounds of cards, but then Haer'Dalis had invited Aerie to walk out and Fritha had found it difficult to concentrate since; her mind drifting back to the evening but days before when she and the bard had walked back from the theatre together and how full of promise the world had seemed, the knowledge that she had brought its end about by her own decision little comfort.

Predictably, her card playing had suffered and after coming last three games in a row, she had bowed out to enjoy her melancholy alone, sat outside on the rotting wooden steps that led to the roofs next to the inn, her feet dangling above the street and hands resting on the railings as she casually tortured herself with thoughts of the couple.

Footsteps on the edge of her hearing caught her attention and Fritha glanced to the end of the street, the dark outline of a man just visible in the twilight and large enough to recognise even at a distance; it seemed Minsc had finally returned from the temple.

She watched him in silence as he strolled towards the inn, contemplating on whether to announce her presence or let him pass her by. But it seemed his eyes were sharper than she had given him credit for, the man glancing up to finally notice her, his voice warm and loud after the cold silence she had been sat in.

'Young Fritha, what are you doing up there?'

She shrugged.

'Nothing really. You're back late, how was the temple?'

'Good. All went to a tavern afterwards to celebrate and much ale was had. Minsc thought he would be having to carry some of the acolytes back to the temple as well,' he laughed, moving up the steps to settle on the one beneath her, the man still taller than her even then.

'As we walked back here, Minsc and Boo passed little Aerie and the bard. Minsc has noticed they spend much time together, yes?'

Fritha glanced to him, the man sending her an unusually searching look before turning back to gaze out over the rooftops.

'Minsc and Boo know there is much in this world worth fighting! But…' he continued gently, 'Boo also says there are some things that you should not have to fight for…'

Fritha smiled wryly; she and Boo were in agreement, it seemed.

'Do you ever think of taking a wife, Minsc?'

'No, indeed,' he replied genially, 'for I have Boo for company.'

Fritha sighed, resting her chin on her hands.

'Perhaps I should get a cat…'

'This is a good idea!' enthused Minsc, and Fritha smiled. 'As long as it knows that Boo is not for eating,' he added in stern afterthought, before continuing blithely. 'But you shall get a husband too one day, I am thinking.'

'_Sorry_?' she exclaimed, sitting bolt upright to look at him, though the man continued as mildly as before.

'Yes, Boo can see the truth of it even now. A man will come, and after many _deadly_ trials to prove his worth, dragon_-_slaying or the wrestling of giants perhaps? Minsc and Boo will help you to decide once the time comes,' he assured with a gentle pat to her shoulder. 'But after these _many_ tests, he will have earned the honour of courting you.'

Fritha snorted wryly.

'All that just to _court_ me? I can't see there being many takers.'

Minsc shrugged.

'If they are unwilling, they are unworthy,' he said simply. 'Dynaheir would have expected as much of any man, and you are no less of a woman than she!'

No less of a woman than _Dynaheir_; Minsc's plain-speaking disposition only making it _more _of a compliment.

Fritha dropped her chin back down to her hands again with a slight smile as she imagined herself sweeping about with imperious grace, reducing all men within a three-mile radius into stammering mush. The image, though amusing, did not really marry with the one she had of herself, and that sort of attention wasn't really for her anyway. Besides, she considered, what was the rush? Yes, her heart was bruised, but it would heal, and she had the rest of her life to fret about such things. _And_ to find someone willing to undertake Minsc's rather rigorous selection process.

'Minsc, can you teach me some more of the Ode of Duric and Alecva?'

He nodded once and began to intone the words, his deep voice echoing almost eerily in the empty street, Fritha joining him an octave higher, their voices drifting up to a star-strewn sky.


	25. Starcrossed

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Star-crossed**

Fritha watched her reflection as she sat at her dresser, the tweezers poised at her brow. A flash of silver, a sharp stab of pain that faded as quickly as it sparked, and her left eyebrow was one hair the tidier, the right still bearing the marks of her work, the skin pink and glowing beneath the smooth amber curve.

Last night, she and Minsc had sat out until she had memorised the next four verses of the ode, before they had eventually returned to the warmth of the tavern and Fritha had rejoined the others in cards, unenthusiastically at first, but she'd been glad she had by the time Aerie and Haer'Dalis returned back a few hands later. Aerie had been draped in his coat, something which Fritha thought spoke more of recent decisions than the evening's chill and the girl had been thankful that when they'd arrived she had been laughing about something with Nalia, looking very happy and naturally so.

From there, Fritha had managed to muster just enough bravado to finish the current game and by then it had finally been a reasonable hour to retire, the girl bowing out to escape to her room and the bed she'd truly wished she had not left that morning.

Another flick of her wrist and pain flared again, the snap of her tweezers and faint rustle of paper the only thing to break the stillness of the room as Nalia read on the bed behind her. Fritha had slept late that morning, in that she was tired and it seemed no one was willing to disturb her, and she did not wake until the sun had risen enough to send shafts of heavy light across her bed, gilding the room about her.

She had lain there dozing for a few moments more, trying to muster the energy to rouse herself and face the day, when a sharp knocking dragged her from her bed and she'd opened the door to reveal, not Jaheira as she had suspected, but Nalia, the girl greeting her with a tray of breakfast. And so she had climbed back into bed, Nalia perched at the foot with the tray between them, Fritha picking at the food and eating more to make the girl feel better than from any real hunger as they chatted idly of their plans for the day.

The girl was still there now, sat on the bed behind her, though Fritha was up and dressed, seated before the dresser and slowly plucking her eyebrows as she tried to prepare herself for the day to come.

'Fritha?' came Nalia impatiently, the girl's voice breaking through her thoughts, 'Fritha, you haven't been listening to a word I've said, have you?'

'I'm sorry, I was concentrating,' Fritha sighed, wincing as she plucked out another hair.

'I was just saying, I hope Jaheira remembers to get more oil. You _were_ listening when I told you Jaheira went with Minsc to buy supplies this morning?' asked Nalia, a hint of reproach creeping in to her voice

She hadn't been. Fritha felt her cheeks burn, wrenching out another hair and nipping the skin beneath in her irritation.  
'You know I was.'

She could feel the girl's eyes on her back, and put all her focus into catching the next hair as Nalia continued, her voice suddenly softer.  
'Fritha, if you would like to talk about yesterday-'

'No thank you,' she answered promptly and she heard Nalia sigh. To be honest she would not have minded sharing her fears with the girl, her dread at going downstairs and being confronted with Aerie and Haer'Dalis and their mutual _adoration_, or even worse to have them spring apart as she entered, eyes full of pity, and Fritha was not sure what she was going to do.

Well, she knew _what _she'd do, as in act like everything was fine. But everything did not feel fine at all and Fritha was more than a little worried she might not be able to pretend it was.

But in the end, no amount of talk would change the fact that in a moment she would have to go down there and watch the pair together, just as they were going to be from this day hence, and that was that. If only she could affect some sort of distraction, just to take the edge off this initial meeting. She let her eyes flick back to her reflection a stern frown creasing her brow.  
_Now just focus, you can do this…_

'Ah, Nalia you're in here,' came a familiar voice behind her and Fritha turned to see Jaheira, the door swinging shut behind her as she stepped into the room. 'And Fritha's awake and dressed as well, l see; a miracle in itself,' she finished with a dry smile which Fritha did _not_ share, the girl turning wordlessly back to her reflection.

'Are you _still_ sulking?' the druid continued in an off-hand manner and Fritha felt a surge of irritation.

'Yes, I _am_ and I'll sulk a good while longer too, if you please,' she snapped laughingly, aware of how childish she sounded even as she spoke. Fritha shook her head with a rueful sigh, 'I'm being a pain, aren't I?'

'No,' came Nalia soothingly, just as the druid gave a firm 'Yes', and the pair glowered at each other.

Fritha drew a deep breath, trying to ignore the tightness of her stomach and hitching a smile into place.

'Right, I'm done moping for the day. Is everyone downstairs, Jaheira?'

The druid went to answer when a knock at the door cut her off, the women opening it to reveal Anomen, his brow furrowed with a worried frown.

'Ladies, I come to tell you Avis has just arrived downstairs, she brings most troubling news.'

xxx

Anomen moved back down the staircase to the tavern, his armour rattling with every step, the three women following him, Fritha finally ready to leave as well it seemed. Anomen frowned slightly as he recalled the strange light that had flashed in her eyes when he told her Avis had just arrived at their table with grim news, and perhaps it was just his imagination, but for a moment Fritha had looked almost elated, the girl standing quickly and asking Nalia to pack her remaining few possessions as she shrugged on her chainmail and belted on her sword, suddenly all eagerness.

But Anomen could hardly complain at this unexpected change, especially since he had not relished the idea of returning to the common room without her. Avis had burst into the tavern where they had been awaiting Fritha, breathless and flushed and barely sparing the others a glance in her haste, the girl saying she had run all the way from the Order in her search for him, quickly explaining the latest developments regarding the runaways and tearfully begging him to help.

Anomen had never been comfortable watching other people cry, especially young women, and he was quite relieved to have been able to gently explain that he would have to consult their leader before anything could be decided, the girl's look of teary disbelief that it was not _he_ holding such a role rather flattering. And so he had gone to fetch Fritha, Avis still in tears when he'd left, Aerie, Haer'Dalis and Minsc all trying to console the girl, though with little success.

'There now, ah, why don't you sit down…'

'Come now, my chick, eyes such as yours were not meant for tears…'

'Worry not, little one, Minsc and Boo will _smite_ your enemies!'

Anomen looked over to the table as he stepped down into the tavern, Avis now sat opposite Minsc and the bard, whey-faced and red-eyed, though it seemed she had finally composed herself, Aerie hovering at her arm as the girl drank a cup of tea with shaking hands.

'Here, Avis,' Anomen began gently, gesturing politely to the girl next to him as Fritha gave the maid an encouraging smile, 'this is Fritha, please explain to her as you did to me.'

Avis swallowed and nodded, sniffing as she handed Fritha a worn square of parchment.

'Here, m'lady,' she tremoured, 'this was delivered to my master's house sometime last night, I'm not sure when, only I found it early this morning when I went to scrub the front step and Master Cornwell bade me bring it to Squire Anomen.'

Fritha unfolded it, eyes flying over the parchment.

'A ransom note,' she said finally for the benefit of the table, before passing it to Jaheira, 'addressed to the Cornwells, detailing the sum and where it should be left if they wish for their daughter, Helenya's safe return.'

'I see,' came the druid after a moment, refolding the parchment back up and returning it to Fritha, 'and how did the family react to this news?'

'Master Cornwell is very angry and my mistress has not stopped crying since we found it. They believe this confirms their worst fears about the sort of man Lirsand is, but I can't believe he managed to fool Helenya so; there must be another answer!'

Before Anomen would have agreed with the parents without a moment's pause, but his meeting with Sestus had shown him that a different sort of honour could exist within such men, and he could believe Avis's trust was not entirely misplaced.

'Oh, please,' the girl continued when no one made any reply to this, her eyes darting back to him imploringly and Anomen swallowed his discomfort, 'there must be something you can do.'

Fritha gave her a sympathetic look, her voice soft.  
'Hush now, calm yourself. If they are sending out ransom notes then it is hardly likely Helenya has come to any harm as yet.'

'Indeed,' agreed Jaheira, though more to the table that the girl herself. 'It could merely be a ruse on the part of the children, to trick the money to start a new life from her parents.'

Avis frowned but did stop crying at least, sniffing slightly as she began to dab her eyes on her apron.  
'I suppose, but it does not sound like Helenya to me, but then,' she admitted miserably, 'I never could have imagined her to run away either.'

'There now,' Aerie soothed, giving the girl a reassuring smile, 'maybe she does not even know the message has been sent.'

'Aye, my pipit,' Haer'Dalis agreed with a fond glance to the elf, 'we have it on the word of his friend that the group they are with were running short of supplies. Perhaps they are trying to trick gold from your nest without her _or_ Lirsand's knowledge.'

The girl sniffed again, but Anomen was pleased to see her brighten slightly.  
'I hope you are right.'

Aerie smiled and nodded, giving her shoulder a pat as Jaheira shouldered her bag pointedly.

'Well, it's late in the morning as it is, and we must be setting off if we are to confirm anything either way.'

'Yes,' agreed Fritha, glancing back to the maid to continue, 'tell your master we are heading for where we last know this group were camped and not to do anything with regards to the ransom until he hears otherwise from us. We've a few days yet, that should be enough.'

The girl sniffed, nodding dolefully and Fritha turned to the group about her.

'Is everyone ready to leave?'

Murmurs of assent and Fritha nodded, shouldering her pack as well.

'Then off we go.'

xxx

The trees rustled in the faint breeze, the light that dappled the forest floor changing as the leaves moved, making the ground shimmer as though water. Jaheira smiled, enjoying the feel of life all about her. The beauty of the trees, the drone of the insects, the damp rich smell of the earth underfoot all made her feel a small but important part of something larger; that whatever happened to her, this greater complex life of the natural world would go on.

They had been heading south for a good few hours now, following Sestus's crude but surprisingly accurate map of the forest, the last camp apparently situated somewhere in the fork between two streams which fed into the river that ultimately split Athkatla, the group already across the first and heading westwards downstream towards the point of convergence.

Jaheira smiled gently to herself, casting her eyes up to the leaves above her, a beautiful mix of greens and yellows as the year neared to its close. Autumn had been Khalid's favourite season. He had always claimed it was merely because he liked the colours, but sometimes she would catch him just stood beneath the trees, his eyes almost closed, and she considered it was perhaps something deeper. Khalid had always had an affinity with nature, not like her own, but she thought he perhaps had appreciated it in ways that she could not.

Jaheira sighed, her heart suddenly heavy. She had dreamt of him last night. Not that she had remembered any details really, but she had woken with the warm comforting sense that he was near, only for it to slowly dawn on her that such a thing was impossible and the weight of his death, which she had carried since the dungeon, sank once more upon her spirit, all the worse for this brief respite.

Jaheira dropped her eyes back to the path before her, Minsc leading the way with Anomen, while just behind them were Aerie and Haer'Dalis. The pair were walking side by side and very close, neither requiring much of an excuse to touch the other, much to Nalia's displeasure, the girl walking next to her and huffing audibly each time they _dared_.

Jaheira smiled slightly at Nalia's disapproval, sure it had more to do with worry for her friend than any offence on her part, the druid glancing behind her to where Fritha was bringing up the rear alone, absently singing a love song under her breath; requited, but of melancholy bearing all the same.

Fritha's romantic affray had brought back memories of her own courting, of the soft look Khalid would give her across the campfire on an evening and the thousand small ways he had found to show his regard however adverse their situation.  
Jaheira smiled as she recalled their first meeting. It was at Zazesspur in Tethyr, both of them sent along with others to investigate the emergence of a smuggling group that was moving certain restricted drugs up from Calimshan and through the city on to more wealthy areas in the Sword Coast. Those Harpers involved had all gathered in the backroom of a local tavern that was owned by a man sympathetic to their cause.

Khalid had seemed so shy and nervous, she could hardly believe he was a member. But then over the course of that mission and many others, she had grown to know him better and saw how such quietness hid a strong will, the man committed to the Harpers and their ideals with an intense resolve.

They had been so different, but so suited too, though she had been reluctant to admit it at first. Jaheira smiled, remembering her initial opposition to his interest in her. She had always maintained that as a Harper and druid she had had no time in her life for a relationship of any sort. But when that quietly determined gaze fell upon her, she knew nothing would deter him and had eventually acquiesced with good grace.  
But one short year later, they were married and had remained so for many happy years.

Jaheira shook her head, such reminiscences as pleasant as they were painful, and she had not the time now to truly appreciate either, the woman turning her attention back to the pair before her. It seemed the bard had not left the city before now and his appreciation of the surroundings was quite pleasant to see, Aerie gently telling him the names of the trees and plants they passed and getting them right for the most part.

Truth be told, Jaheira was pleased things had worked out as they had. Fritha would have likely found it difficult to manage the group _and_ a relationship, and the druid did not think Haer'Dalis would have done anything to aid her in the task. Fritha had always been prone to oddness, with a strong imagination and a tendency to let it run away with her. Something which probably had much to do with being brought up in a library full of old men with only one child of her own age for company, and the girl needed someone who would ground, not encourage her. Though it was likely Fritha was not feeling as pleased as she was with the way things had turned out, Jaheira considered practically.

Poor fool. The first time was always the worst and she had not meant to be so dismissive of Fritha's feelings that morning. But the memories of Khalid had been still bright within her and it had been difficult to bear the girl's melancholy whilst ignoring her own.

At least Fritha had managed to avoid trouble from other quarters, though the girl remained unaware of her good fortune. Jaheira had finally managed to find the time to visit the Harper's hall a couple of days ago, on the evening Fritha went to view the auditions, the girl's absence adequately covering her own delay in returning from their investigations.

The senior Harper there, Galvarey, was young considering his position but seemed wise with it, something she had not expected when she had entered the already rather ostentatious building on the quays and found the interior would not have looked out of place in a pasha's court; all white marble and coloured silks.

But apart from this unnecessary opulence, she noticed no other thirst to prove himself, Galvarey treating her with the respect due any Harper and confirming that she travelled with the godschild, Fritha, to which the druid reluctantly admitted. The man was seemingly unconcerned about her heritage though, stating Jaheira had travelled with her long enough now and if she could vouch for the girl then he was sure everything would be fine.

Jaheira could not pretend she did not find this result a relief. She had no family and, without Khalid, the Harper's were all she had left of her life outside Fritha's company; she would not have liked to have seen the two at odds.  
Galvarey had concluded the meeting by asking her to report back to the hall in another tenday or so, something to which she had readily agreed.

'_And perhaps you could bring the girl with you, just to put our superiors' minds at rest, of course,' _he had enquired slowly, eyes carefully watching her reaction.

But Jaheira had wondered whether it was not just to sate his own curiosity, making some off-hand excuse for the girl and he had not pressed the issue, saying he understood if it was not possible and in the end they parted amicably enough.

A particularly loud sigh broke through her thoughts and Jaheira sent a glance to the girl next to her, Nalia glowering fiercely at the pair before them as Aerie faltered slightly on some root or the like, Haer'Dalis stepping in so dramatically to steady her that, for a moment, Jaheira thought he was going to sweep the elf up into his arms and carry her.

'Really, I know they are all _young love first discovered_,' Nalia snapped, her tone unusually scathing, 'but they could at least _try_ to be discreet!'

Jaheira actually thought they looked quite nice together, but she could see where the girl was coming from. They were hardly being subtle and a glance behind confirmed that they had not been the only ones to notice the pair, Fritha sending her a half-smile and a shrug as though to say she had not expected anything less.

Next to her, Nalia sighed deeply.

'I wish she would talk to me.'

Jaheira glanced back to her with mild surprise, she had though the two had grown quite close during this convoluted affair.

'She won't?'

The girl shook her head.

'No. I have tried, but she just keeps changing the subject.'

Ah, Fritha. This unwillingness to let others help could be a destructive trait, something Jaheira knew first hand. She had been bad for it herself in her youth… and perhaps sometimes now as well, if she was being honest.

'Well, bear with her, she finds it hard to talk to others sometimes; I imagine she expects leaders to be made of sterner stuff. Imoen really was the only one she would confide in before, though,' Jaheira considered aloud, 'things were different then, perhaps she wouldn't have even talked to _her_ now, though I suspect the girl herself would have had quite a bit to say about that.'

Nalia sighed again, glancing back to Fritha with a concerned look.

'I hate to see her like this. Can't _you_ try?'

Jaheira glanced back as well, Fritha following them as she had been and still singing _very_ quietly under her breath- either that or she was talking to herself. Jaheira sighed, recalling her previous terseness.

'No, I think I've said enough for one day.'

xxx

They reached the bandits' campsite late that afternoon, though there was no sign of anyone and Jaheira agreed with Minsc, by the look of the firepit and the surrounding tracks they were probably following a group of twelve or more and no one had been there for several days, further investigations revealing two sets of tracks leading from the site. The main body of people apparently continued their journey south eastwards while a smaller group of probably no more than three headed northwest, back to the city.

'So which path do we follow?' asked Nalia, looking from one to the other.

'The majority went south,' offered Anomen.

'Yes,' agreed Fritha, gesturing to the tracks north, 'but let's follow this trail for a while. I want to know if they were heading to the city or not and we can always turn back if it leads to nothing.'

It was decided and they continued their journey, the group travelling another half an hour, crossing the northern stream again and they had just recovered the trail when Jaheira noticed something. A smell, heavy and sour, faint at first but growing stronger with every step and she was not surprised when Minsc finally called them to a halt in a clearing of beech trees, the druid pushing to the head of the group to confirm her suspicions. A few paces into the undergrowth a dark-haired man was sprawled face down, dead and by the smell, he had been so for some time.

Jaheira moved forward to crouch down next to him, the group around her taking a step back as she rolled the body over to reveal a young man, his pale face bloated and discoloured, the ground where he had lain a writhing mass of insects and larvae.

'So, is this Lirsand?' she asked with a glance to those above her. Anomen nodded once, looking troubled.

'It certainly fits the description we were given.'

Jaheira dropped her eyes back to the body, seemingly unmarked barring the even slash across his neck, the grey white skin curling back from the wound as though it wished to speak. The front of his tunic was stained with blood, the ground beneath him still baring traces as well and Jaheira suspected he had been killed in the clearing and dumped there to bleed out. She glanced again to those about her.

'No defensive wounds and his throat was cut.'

Fritha nodded slowly, eyes travelling over the body.

'That suggests a certain intimacy. He likely knew his attacker, then, trusted them.'

The girl glanced to her face for confirmation and Jaheira nodded.

'It would seem so,' she agreed, though what this meant she could only guess.

Fritha sighed, turning to the man next to her.

'Well, we can't leave him like this. Minsc, do you have the spade?'

The ranger nodded, taking it from where it was strapped to the back of his pack and beginning to dig at the foot of a nearby tree, the others disbanding behind him at Fritha's instruction and moving back towards the stream to prepare camp for the night.

The fire was lit and the water for dinner already hung over it heating when Minsc finally finished, Jaheira helping him to move the body and cover it over while Fritha set to scratching a rough L on the stone in her lap. The girl had wanted to carve something on the tree at his head, but Jaheira would hear nothing of it, so Fritha settled on a large flat rock which she had found during her search for firewood and lugged back to use as a marker.

Once buried, all there was to do was to set the stone in place, everyone gathering about the grave while Jaheira held a hand over it and closed her eyes in prayer.

'From Nature, we came. To Nature, we return. Peace be with you.'

A murmur of oaths and agreement followed, though no one moved to go, all unwilling to leave so soon, it seemed, or at least to be the first to do so.

'Someone should say something else, pray for his soul's repose,' said Nalia eventually, glancing about them, her eyes coming to rest upon the squire.

'Well, I hardly think he worshiped Helm,' said Anomen tersely, looking unusually uncomfortable. Fritha shrugged.

'Mask's as good a bet as any and at least he's used to listening to my whingeing.'

The girl dropped to her knees, touched her mouth, forehead and chest in quick succession to bless herself, before holding both hands out cupped before her and intoned a prayer, quick and droning of one who had learnt it by rote, before asking peace for Lirsand's soul and promising great offerings for the task.

'Only,' the girl admitted, her eyes still closed in prayer, 'I can't make the offering _now_, You understand. But I'll definitely bring something to Your shrine once I'm back in the city and You can trust me for it, because I always repay my debts and-'

'Fritha,' Jaheira prompted.

'Er, glory be Thy name,' the girl finished quickly, blessing herself again as she rose, Anomen, Aerie and Jaheira following suit, the group turning as one to return to camp.

xxx

Darkness had fallen quickly, the nights drawing in as summer faded to autumn, the fire lighting the faces of the group sat around it and making the surrounding forest all the darker, stars just visible between the black silhouette of branches above. Fritha pulled her cloak about her more tightly, glad for the warm cup in her hands, letting the voices of the others drift over her as they discussed the runaways and this most recent and troubling development.

'So it looks more certain than ever that Helenya is being held against her will,' sighed Jaheira, Anomen nodding gravely.

'We can only hope that since they wish to gain the ransom for her return, _she_ remains unharmed.'

Fritha sighed, dropping her gaze to her cup, the firelight making the tea within shimmer like quicksilver. Poor Lirsand. Poor Helenya too, and Fritha considered she had even more sympathy for the girl than he, because once you were dead the hard part was pretty much over with; it was those you left who had to bear the burden of it.

Fritha let her eyes drift up to the couple sat opposite her, two others who were paying no attention to the talk around them, the light from the fire giving them both a golden hue, Haer'Dalis's scars bright on his face and Fritha wondered absently what they would feel like to touch.

He was smiling, his fingers playing with the hem of Aerie's sleeve as he leaned in to whisper something at her ear and Fritha felt a burning stab of jealousy, taking a long draft of tea as though to quench it. But however green-eyed and miserable she was feeling, she could not put herself in the elf's place, sat there with the bard so tenderly; it would have all been too soon for _her_.

Fritha sighed slightly to herself. Not that she had not imagined such scenarios before, her and he alone together, perhaps back in the gloomy flies of her theatre or a dozen other places, some just existing only in her mind. But that was all they were; just idle dreams to be indulged in as she lay in her bed at night during that hazy twilight between wake and sleep.  
And there they would stay, because Haer'Dalis was with Aerie and that was the end of it.

'Well, Fritha?' broke a voice through her thoughts and she started to find the group staring at her.

'Er, sorry?' she mumbled, pulling her attention away from the pair opposite, Nalia sending them a scowl and Fritha smiled even as she felt embarrassed. The girl's continuing anger with the couple may have been a touch unreasonable, but it _was_ a comfort to know that someone had her welfare at heart.

'We were talking of our plans,' repeated Jaheira and looking most displeased it was necessary for her to do so, 'of what our approach should be once we actually locate these bandits.'

Fritha shrugged slightly, finishing her tea with a sigh.  
'I suppose we'll just have to play it as it comes. Today's discovery says nothing more than Lirsand made an enemy of someone. Helenya may not know he's dead, neither may his group for that matter; we've no proof it was they who killed him, the poor sod.'

'What did you call him?' came Haer'Dalis suddenly, head jerking towards her.

'Sorry, I did not mean to offend your sensibilities, sparrow.'

'You did nothing of the sort,' he snapped, his voice easing again as he continued, 'but that word, I did not know you knew the Sigil cant.'

'I don't, it's old Heartlands slang.'

'And Sigil cant too, it seems,' he concluded with a smile, Aerie looking a touch displeased as he leaned forward eagerly, 'Can you imagine, Fritha, perhaps our homes shared some link in the past- you do not appear to be so amazed,' he added sharply in face of her impassive look.

Fritha shrugged, the epitome of indifference.

'Should I be? Language comes from people and people are prolific.' _Unfortunately_, her mind added snidely and she suppressed a grin with difficulty as she continued. 'Words travel as seeds within birds. A Heartlander went to Sigil. A Cager came to the Heartlands. Either way the word came too.'

'Well, offer up some more, my raven,' he said with an encouraging smile, 'I am interested to see how far this goes and for all your apathy, I'll warrant you are too.'

Fritha shook her head. She was interested, but their discussions were somehow not as enjoyable as they used to be.

'Perhaps another day, I am tired of games for the moment. Well, the night is deepening, should we think about bedding down?'

Murmurs of agreement and Jaheira nodded.

'Indeed, there will be four two hour watches or there about. I shall take one, are there any volunteers for the others?'

xxx

Aerie straightened the blanket over her knees, the elf sat on her bedding and watching the others laying out their own around the fire. She had offered to take the night's first watch, Fritha and Minsc both volunteering for the more awkward middle two and Jaheira liked to rise early anyway, if only to pray, so she decided to take the last. Aerie smiled as her gaze fell upon the man next to her in the circle, Haer'Dalis sat upon the bedding they had bought for him that morning, still unfolding his blanket. He had offered to take her watch with her, the dark look to his eyes as he had suggested it making her heart quicken.

But in the end she had refused him. So much had happened in the last few days and she was looking forward to some time alone to think things through. Last night had been wonderful and terrible in the extremes and she recalled clearly the empty feeling that had blossomed in her stomach as she had watched Fritha walking up to the table, Haer'Dalis's coat draped about her.

However many times her mind had repeated over and over that it was probably just because she had been cold and that it all meant nothing, it still did nothing to close the sudden hole that had opened in her heart, and Aerie had truly believed her dreams were crushed as she fled for the bar, all her thoughts on how she could return to her room before she burst into tears.

But then he had followed her and calmed her, helping her get the tea and making her laugh, all the time her heart hovering between hope and despair. But Haer'Dalis had stayed with her when Fritha threw his coat at him moments later and when he finally invited her to walk out later that evening, she knew he was hers and she could barely speak for her joy, though, Aerie considered with a fond smile, Haer'Dalis's talk more than filled the silence.

And it was ever so that morning, the man's attentions never far from her, always asking questions or describing to her the planes and she was so utterly and unexpectedly happy, she could hardly believe it was real.

'Ah!' Nalia shrieked suddenly, making more than one person start as she began shaking her blanket wildly, Fritha sending the girl a concerned glance.

'What is it?'

'There was an earwig on my blanket. I- I think it's gone now though,' she added, with a wary glance to the bedroll at her feet.

'Well, it won't hurt you, girl,' sighed Jaheira tersely and Nalia pulled a face at her, though Aerie noticed that she had waited until the druid's back was turned before she did so.

Fritha smiled, sinking on to her own bedding with an absent sigh.

'I remember when we were younger, Imoen telling me they were called earwigs because when you were asleep they would crawl into your ear and make a little nest there and lay their eggs. And you'd wake up the next day none the wiser and you'd be walking about normally and suddenly baby earwigs would be dropping from your ear and crawling all over your face and such. I was _beside_ myself. I remember I slept with strips of linen stuffed in each ear for months afterwards.' Fritha sighed gently, lying down and pulling the covers over her. 'I miss her.'

Aerie turned away from her, feeling suddenly guilty; it was a cruel world that could only give happiness at the expense of others and she wondered if Fritha was feeling as awful as Aerie knew _she _would have. The elf sighed. Happy as she was it was difficult to ignore others had been hurt in this. It was clear that Nalia was still very willing to hold a grudge, but Fritha had never really acted like a rival even when they were at odds, and Aerie wondered whether if things would ever really be the same between the three of them again.

'Hmm, there is a dampness to the breeze, perhaps it will rain later,' considered Jaheira aloud as she settled under her own blanket and Nalia looked miserable.

'It won't rain tonight, look at the moon,' said Fritha, pointing up from where she lay and Aerie followed her hand to a thin white crescent, the lower part illuminated, like the smile on an invisible face. 'Beth used to say that when it lies like that, it will catch all the rain like a cup.'

Aerie often found that such folk tales had a good deal of truth behind them, even if the reasoning was far from sound, but the druid looked unconvinced.

'I've never heard such nonsense.'

'I've never seen it disproved!' Fritha countered hotly and Jaheira gave an exasperated sigh.

'Yes, Fritha, but when it rains it is usual for clouds to obscure the sky.'

A pause and then quiet giggling rippled over the camp and Aerie could see the girl's blankets trembling, the laughter warm in her ears.

'Fair point. Well, goodnight everyone,' Fritha sighed finally, her smile audible and Aerie watched as the girl turned over, her back to the fire as she settled down to sleep. Aerie smiled slightly as she stared up at the thin sliver of moon, filled with a sudden resolve. She would be reconciled with the girl, with her and Nalia both.


	26. Scarlet soaked sleeves

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Scarlet soaked sleeves**

Anomen awoke to the song of unseen birds and the low murmur of voices. It had been a clear night as Fritha had predicted, though the edges of his bedding were damp, soaked with dew from the ground. He stifled a yawn, sitting to stretch the stiffness from his muscles and take in the others about him. Minsc and Nalia were nowhere to be seen, while Aerie and Haer'Dalis were still in their beds, awake and talking quietly. Jaheira was up though, stood over the fire and stirring her old iron pot, the contents of which smelt to be porridge.

Anomen rolled his shoulders, glancing to the girl across from him, Fritha sat up in her bedding, straightening out her clothes and attempting to tidy her hair all with her eyes closed as though trying to trick her body into thinking it was still asleep.

'Ah, Anomen, you're awake,' came a voice before him and he turned to Jaheira, the woman gesturing to the pot with her spoon as she continued. 'Good, this will be ready soon.'

Fritha stretched where she was sat before slowly standing and Jaheira turned a sharp eye upon her.

'And where are you going?'

'For a wash,' answered Fritha, through a yawn.

The druid frowned. 'Now? Wait until after breakfast.'

Fritha shrugged, crouching to root in her bag. 'I don't want any, start without me.'

Anomen saw a nerve in the woman's temple twitch. Though it had seemed to begin as a little friendly teasing, Fritha and Jaheira's differing views on what constituted a _proper _breakfast had, over the last couple of days, become a battle of wills that seemed to have little to do with the meal anymore, and one in which neither was prepared to back down.

'Nonsense,' Jaheira continued firmly, turning back to the fire, 'and this is almost ready, so if you are still set on going, leave your bowl. I've no intention of keeping it over the fire for you; porridge is hard enough to clean off without it being burnt on.'

But Fritha just mumbled something incomprehensible and stumbled off though the trees, her bag slung awkwardly over her shoulder. It was only moments later when Nalia and Minsc returned and Jaheira began to serve the porridge. She was one bowl short.

'By Silvanus, that girl!' the druid raged, throwing the spoon back into the iron pot with a resounding clang, the fire hissing as a splatter of porridge rained into it.

'She probably, ah, just forgot,' reasoned Aerie nervously and Jaheira looked like she would have made quite the reply to that. Anomen screwed up his courage and for the sake of peace cut in.

'Indeed, I shall go and remind her,' he offered, and before either could say another word, he set down his bowl and rose to make a swift exit.

Anomen sighed to himself as he walked. He was quite sure Fritha did _not_ forget to leave her bowl, but he could understood how the druid's constant coddling could have been annoying and he was glad to get away from the camp himself, even if just for a few moments. Learning that a ransom had been demanded for Helenya had been worrying enough, but finding the boy, Lirsand, dead had been unexpectedly distressing and Anomen realised he felt more for the couple's plight that he had first admitted.

He shook his head; the further they seemed to get to the truth in this, the more horrible things got. He would have to try and distance his mind from the matter and prepare for all eventualities, even the worst.

The place where he had collected the water the night before was up ahead and he could see a blur of copper through the undergrowth, Anomen halting to draw a breath, preparing to announce himself in case she was not decent when he suddenly stopped, the girl's voice ringing clearly over the chatter of the brook.

'Good Morning, Fritha! How are you this morning? Oh, not bad, not bad. Yourself? Ah, you know how it is. A bit wet, bit cold, but ultimately all right.'

Anomen frowned and took another step forward, pushing through the undergrowth to see her sat alone with her bag open at her feet, pulling a comb through her hair. It was a hand's width longer than she was, being sat, and trailed slightly in the long grass, the curls being slowly pulled out to long wavy tresses, though it seemed the effect was not permanent, the hair already slyly springing back, the girl seemingly oblivious as she stared into the river, keeping up a constant chatter as she worked.

'I haven't seen you in a while. No, no, we've been kept busy in the city, I-'

'My lady, to whom are you speaking?'

She started at his voice, whirling back to find him stood there, but she did not look particularly embarrassed and just turned back to the water with a shrug as he approached.

'The girl in the river. We always seem to come here at the same time, so we say hello, have a bit of a chat; we have a lot in common, you know. Oh, look,' she smiled as he took another step towards her and his image suddenly appeared rippling in the water next to hers, 'today she has a friend.'

Anomen smiled slightly. Fritha might be odd, but at least she was pleasant with it.

'Indeed…' he answered eventually, before he recalled the task which had brought him there to start with. 'Jaheira is back at the camp serving the porridge,' he sent Fritha a measured look, 'she was making quite a bit of noise about your lack of bowl.'

'My bowl is where it belongs,' she smiled, patting her bag pointedly. 'Please tell Jaheira that I am not hungry and do not want breakfast today –and that if she makes _any _fuss I shan't be having lunch either.'

Anomen had no intention of doing anything of the sort, especially when Jaheira looked to be in a mood where she would quite happy blame the messenger. He smiled diplomatically.

'I believe it would be a much more convincing argument if you yourself told her, my lady.'

'Oh, _do_ you?' confirmed the girl, not fooled for a moment it seemed and going back to her combing with a wry smile, 'I thought you Helmites were supposed to be brave.'

'Brave, yes, but we are not fools.'

Fritha laughed delightedly.

'You're sharp this morning. Please tell Jaheira I shall return in a moment. I will explain the rest myself.'

He nodded once, suddenly wanting to say something else, but he was unsure as to what and so he turned and started back, a deep sigh and the girl's voice drifting after him.

'What do you think? Jaheira will likely scold you into eating something, whatever you say. Aye, true; so you think I should just give in gracefully then? I seem to have been doing quite a bit of that lately.'

He returned to find the camp in silence, all eating under the watchful eye of the druid, and Anomen settled on his bedding with his own bowl, the contents now cold and slightly congealed, though he didn't much care; he had never liked porridge anyway.

Fritha appeared a few moments later as promised, bowl already in hand and hair still down, a blanket of wispy curls that fluttered out behind her slightly as she walked.

'Here Jaheira, sorry I forgot to leave it before,' she smiled, handing the woman her bowl in gracious defeat, a small smirk pulling at her lips as she caught Anomen's eye. Fritha received her bowl back from the now mollified Jaheira and returned to her bedding next to Minsc, Haer'Dalis glancing up as she moved to sit and they both suddenly stopped mid-action, openly staring at each other, Aerie looking back and forth between the two, silent but watchful.

'Oh, don't you look different with your hair unbound,' Fritha said at last, her voice decidedly neutral as she moved to sit and Anomen could not tell if she approved of the change or not; the tiefling sat in his bedding, his strange blue hair falling across his shoulders, still noticeably kinked from where it had been tied back.

'You can hardly comment, my raven,' the bard countered, his tone as carefully indifferent as hers had been, though his eyes lingered on the curls that hung to her waist and Anomen could understand why; it did look quite pretty in its own way. 'I had no idea your hair was so long; do you always wear it pinned up?'

'Always,' Fritha confirmed nonchalantly from the depths of her bag, her attention caught up, it seemed, in finding her spoon, 'but you can blame the gnolls for that, right Minsc?'

The ranger nodded gravely.

'Right. Boo says they have much to answer for.'

Fritha smiled, giving Minsc's arm a playful shove and her sigh was barely audible as she scooped up her first spoonful of cold porridge. She glanced to Anomen, sending him an apologetic look when she noticed his was just as unpleasant, before taking the congealed lump off the spoon with her teeth and he had to fight against a laugh at her revolted expression as she swallowed, Haer'Dalis seemingly forgotten as he returned to his conversation with Aerie.

xxx

They broke camp a few hours after dawn, following the trail back to the bandit's campsite that they had discovered the day before and finally taking the tracks south. It was early afternoon now, a warm light filtering through the branches above and Jaheira smiled, the quiet talk of the girls behind her pleasing her as much as the surroundings.

It seemed today Nalia was refusing to take no for an answer when it came to Fritha and her brooding, and the girl's persistence had finally paid off, the pair behind her now and deep in talk, broken only by the occasional laugh, though whenever Jaheira glanced back to investigate, the girls' gaze would inevitably be focused on the group's first and only couple, and she suspected the source of their amusement may not have been particularly nice.

But, the druid considered practically, such things were usually a part of the healing process, especially in the young, and it was not as though the couple in question had noticed anything, so caught up in each other as they were and, as long as it remained that way, Jaheira was not particularly worried.

Aerie heard it first, the sound of others ahead of them, and Fritha halted the group soon afterwards, sending Jaheira and Minsc to scout ahead, the pair returning to confirm it was more than like the group they sought. A camp of about ten bandits in a clearing up ahead; mostly men but a couple of women were among their number, one of whom being a dark-haired girl who did not look used to the life.

'Is she being held hostage?' came the elf tentatively, looking frightened of the answered, but Jaheira just shrugged.

'If she is, she is quite unconcerned by it. From what I saw of her, she was laughing with some of the older bandits and making a start on dinner.'

'Could it be,' began Anomen, looking usually hesitant, 'that she perhaps sent the ransom note herself.'

'And sided with the bandits when they killed Lirsand?' Fritha shrugged. 'Maybe. I suppose we shall just have to ask her.'

Fritha did not want to arrive in numbers, believing it would only exacerbate matters and the group divided, Minsc and Jaheira both taking Haer'Dalis and Nalia back to surround the campsite and wait for any sign of trouble. Those left remained where they had first stopped for a few moments to ensure the others were in place, before Fritha started forward, Aerie and Anomen just behind her, and making no attempt to conceal their approach.

They were closer now and through the undergrowth Fritha could see shapes moving about, the sounds of people talking and the smell of burning wood. Fritha slowed her paced, holding up a hand to warn those behind her and rounding a tree to finally catch a glimpse of the girl who had been the root of all this trouble: Helenya.

She was taller than Fritha had imagined she would be, clad in a simple green dress with a broad handsome face, dark hair curling to just past her shoulders. The girl was currently bent slicing vegetables into a pot hung over the fire, though she straightened at the noise of their approach, the other bandits glancing up warily and a lean dark-haired man Fritha took to be the leader drew his sword.

'Lirsand?' came Helenya, eager and hopeful. Fritha closed her eyes; so the girl didn't know yet…

The armed man shook his head taking a step closer to the fire, eyes scanning the forest before him warily.

'No, flower, he'd know to give the bird call. Who's there?'

Fritha carried on walking, finally stepping into the clearing with a friendly smile.

'No need for that, mate,' she began, holding her hands up to show she was unarmed, before turning to the girl to add gently, 'Hello, Helenya.'

The girl frowned, though she looked more confused than angry.

'Who are you? How do you know my name?'

'I am Fritha, a mercenary of sorts. This is Aerie, Anomen. Your parents hired us to find you and ask you to return home.'

The man next to her suddenly looked wary, but Helenya just snorted, something about her manner hardening.

'Why? They didn't particularly care about me when I was there and they were planning to send me away anyway, I merely saved them the bother.'

Fritha shrugged, Anomen stepping forward slightly, his voice quiet and grave.

'You are quite wrong, my lady, at least about them caring for you, as well you may have been willing to exploit. What were you planning to do? Pretend to have been kidnapped and trick the money for a new life from them?'

Fritha had no idea whether Anomen truly believed his words or merely said them to gauge her reaction though whatever his intention it soon became clear, Helenya suddenly no less than furious, her heavy-lidded eyes wide as though she could hardly believe what he was suggesting.

'No! I wouldn't have accepted anything even if they had offered it freely. Money, money, money; it's all they talk of now. Well, let them keep their gold, I want nothing from them! Lirsand and I will manage on our own.'

Fritha fought against a wince, pushing a hand into her pocket to draw out a worn square of parchment and the look of wary recognition that crossed the man's face spoke volumes.

'Really,' Fritha continued, sending the man a dark look as she stepped forward to hand it to her, 'and do your companions share your ideals? Here, look over that. Do you recognise the hand?'

Helenya shook her head, dark curls bobbing as she read it over before looking up to catch her with a confused gaze.

'A- A ransom note… for me?'

'That could have been written by anyone, Helenya,' came the man quickly, taking another step closer to the girl, and Fritha could see the others about them tensing, hands hovering warily over their weapons. 'It's just your parents trying to trick you into returning home.'

'Not unless Avis was part of the deception as well,' interjected Aerie, Helenya glancing up sharply at the mention of her friend and Fritha nodded, her voice even as she continued.

'Who do you think delivered it to us along with tales of your distraught parents, though to be fair, they are still content to blame it all on Lirsand-'

'Lirsand would never do this!' cut in the girl angrily, more than willing to defend her love and Fritha sighed; she would have to be told.

'No, I don't believe he would, and that is probably what cost him his life.'

'What?' Helenya cried, paling instantly as Fritha whirled on the man next to her.

'What did you do? Broach the subject with him and then when he refused, had him killed lest he take the girl away?'

Helenya was trembling now, her eyes full of fear as she turned to the man next to her.

'Givan?'

'She's mad!' the man shouted angrily, the bandits about them standing, some drawing weapons, others glancing about as though contemplating retreat. Fritha ignored them all, turning back to the girl before her.

'How do you think we found you? Sestus gave us your whereabouts. He was worried, Helenya, because Lirsand was supposed to meet him days ago, only he didn't arrive. We found him just north of your last campsite. Helenya, I'm sorry, Lirsand is dead.'

'She is lying, Helenya!' Givan shouted, finally turning to the girl, Helenya slowly shaking her head, a trembling hand held before her thin mouth, her voice shrill with emotion as tears began to fall.

'_No_… no… You said he was just reporting back to the city to spy on the caravans as usual…but I _knew_ he should have returned by now, I _knew_ it.'

Givan shook his head, something about him changing and he suddenly held a predatory look as he took a final step towards the girl.

'Lirsand was a fool! We would not have sent you back to your parents once the ransom was paid. We could have had money enough for the winter and you both would have been free to go where you wished. But he would have none of it. Threatened to take you away if we tried. He left us no choice!'

'How _could _you?' Helenya sobbed, still shaking her head. She took an unsteady step backwards and he made a grab for her, the next few moments seeming to blur as the girl pushed out with the knife that was still clutched in her hand and sank it into his stomach.

Givan stood, blinking down at her with an almost comical surprise before slumping over. Someone screamed and suddenly the camp erupted about them, Fritha darting forward to defend the girl from an attack, her friends appearing around the campsite, some of the bandits staying to fight, others turning to flee into the forest, the shouts and clash of weapons filling the air. Fritha killed the bandit before her, throwing an arm across Helenya and turning to defend her against another, though she was not needed, the man falling like a stone as Anomen's mace collided with the back of his head and finally it was over.

'Is everyone uninjured?' Jaheira called out, and Fritha nodded as the druid approached, the others moving from various corners of the camp to gather before her and the girl. Helenya had fallen to her knees next to Givan's body, sobbing hysterically, the knife still clutched in her hand and Jaheira approached her cautiously, though her wariness was not needed, the girl barely registering it as the druid crouched down beside her and gently pried the knife from her fingers, throwing it lightly away from them both and beginning to gently rub her back. 'There now, hush child.'

Fritha turned away from them feeling suddenly empty.

'How many ran off?' she questioned to no one in particular, Anomen answering.

'There are six bodies including Givan, so about four I should say; do you intend a pursuit?'

Fritha shook her head.

'No, we'll take the food and anything else vaguely useful from here to make life hard for them, and we can just give the Watch their general whereabouts once we get back to the city.'

'I want to see the bodies,' came Helenya suddenly, raising a determined, tear-stained face to her. 'If you let me see who is dead I can give you descriptions of the ones who fled… in case they come back to the city…'

Fritha nodded to Jaheira and the woman rose, steadying the girl as she stood as well, before leading her off to the first corpse. Fritha looked down at the body she left, Givan curled on his side, blood staining his tunic just as Lirsand's had been and she felt a surge of hatred shudder through her. Fritha drew back her foot and gave the body an almighty kick.

xxx

The group walked back to where they had camped in near silence. Helenya had stopped crying just as suddenly as she had begun, quietly packing up what few belongings she had and following them from the camp without another word.

Anomen sighed, having to stop himself from turning back to check the girl for what felt like the hundredth time. He could not help but feel a certain responsibility for her, not just from the promise he had made to the Cornwells, but he had been concerned with her safety for so long now, it was difficult to distance himself from his worry now she was retrieved.

He had tried to speak with the girl when they first set off, tried telling her how worried Avis had been, how glad her parents would be to know she was safe, but it was all for naught. Helenya had been polite but clearly unwilling to speak with him and in the end he had given up, the girl drifting to the back of the party were she remained still.

Anomen glanced back to where she was walking with Fritha. Neither was speaking and the pair looked very different as they moved side-by-side, Helenya tall and dark, Fritha gracile and bright, but somehow united in their melancholy.

Anomen had been sure that when their path had returned them to the bandit's previous campsite that Helenya's composure would falter, but the girl barely seemed to notice her surroundings and they passed through and continued northwards without incident, another half hour finally bringing them back their own campsite.

'Ah, and we return to our old nest-' sighed Haer'Dalis, gratefully dropping his pack beneath the nearest tree, 'I wonder if that earwig's still about,' he added with a sly glance to Nalia, the girl paling slightly, looking uncomfortable.

'Oh, don't,' scolded Aerie, lightly smacking his arm as he laughed, but Nalia just scowled at them both and stalked off to fetch some water.

'You camped here last?' came Helenya suddenly, not particularly loudly, but it was so unexpected that everyone seemed to turn to her as she continued absently, 'north of our old campsite… Lirsand would have come this way on his return to the city…' She turned to Fritha. 'You found him near to here, didn't you?

Fritha nodded, her voice coming quiet and slightly hoarse after so long silent.

'Yes, it was a bit further north where we buried him-'

'You buried him? Helenya repeated, her surprise evident and Anomen wondered for a moment if they had done something wrong when she nodded once. 'Thank you, I did not expect you to have bothered, it was… kind of you… May I see him?'

'I- I can take you, if you like?' came Aerie softly and the girl glanced to her and nodded again, the two disappearing off northwards as everyone returned to their tasks. Nalia appeared with water after a moment, Aerie returning alone not long afterwards, looking pained.

'Oh, poor Helenya,' she sighed as she set down the firewood she had thoughtfully collected on her way back, 'it was awful. She wasn't even crying, just knelt looking at the grave. I tried to comfort her, but it was as though she could not hear me.'

Nalia muttered something that Anomen did not catch but suspected wasn't very nice, because the elf flushed scarlet and was very sharp with everyone bar Haer'Dalis as they finished setting up the camp.

The fire was roaring merrily now, the water for the tea hung over it heating, but still there was no sign of Helenya, Aerie wondering aloud if she should return to check on her, Nalia pointing out that if she wanted company she would come back to the group and another quarrel began.

Anomen sighed and as much to distract himself from his own worries for Helenya as ignore their squabbling, turned to the girl next to him, Fritha knelt a pace from him in the circle, seemingly oblivious to the rest of them as she stared up at the amber-stippled leaves with fathomless eyes.

'What are you doing, my lady?'

'Hm?' she murmured absently, glancing to him. 'Oh, just trying to hold the image of it in my mind. It's all so fleeting, soon the leaves will have fallen and winter will be upon us.'

'Yes, but then comes the spring,' he counted, his voice sounding unpleasantly hearty.

'I suppose so,' agreed Fritha, but she didn't sound too pleased about it.

'My lady?'

'Oh, just ignore me, Anomen,' she sighed, waving an absent hand beside her head as though dismissing herself, 'I woke up in an odd mood.'

'You were _born_ in an odd mood,' interjected Jaheira, turning back from where she had been tending the fire to give Fritha a scowl, the girls' argument no longer providing a distraction, it seemed. 'Make yourself useful and go and fetch some more wood.'

'My lady,' he reproached the druid as the girl rose and wandered off through the trees without a word, but Jaheira would not be rebuked.

'My nothing, I've no patience for such purposeless brooding.' She snorted crossly. 'All this over a boy.'

'Jaheira, he _is _dead,' Anomen reasoned, but she merely sent him a pitying look and turned back to the fire.

xxx

Fritha ambled through the trees without haste or purpose, just glad to be away from the camp and its heady round of chores and quarrels. She knew exactly what Jaheira thought she was moping about, but she was wrong, at least in part.

Fritha knew life was unfair, but why did _everything_ have to be so utterly hopeless? Though she was not having a particularly easy time of it watching Aerie and Haer'Dalis play at love's young dream, her talks with Nalia had helped, the girl's amusing, if spiteful wit succeeding in distracting her from her melancholy.

But all that hardly mattered now, not since she had been presented with Helenya's misery. A very small part of her had even hoped the girl _had_ been responsible, at least then she would have been spared such sorrow. But it had not been so and Fritha could recall with unpleasant clarity Helenya's tortured sobs as she had knelt in the campsite, the knowledge of Lirsand's death overwhelming her. And then the journey back, the girl just walking next to her, silent and composed, as though her grief was beyond tears.

Fritha sighed miserably. She would have helped the couple return to the city, stay hidden, even escape to Waterdeep if they had wished it, though it would have meant forfeiting the money promised by the Cornwells. But, no. Lirsand was dead and Helenya was broken-hearted, and all Fritha could do was return the girl to the family she had run away from in the first place.  
Life was just so horrible sometimes.

Fritha shook her head, glancing up to find herself at the river, the form of Helenya visible through the trees, sat where she had been combing her hair but a day before. The girl was crying again, though not as she had been at the camp. There was no sobbing, no sound even; Helenya just sat staring into the water, silent tears streaming down face. Fritha shifted her weight slightly, unsure of whether to stay or go, when something cracked underfoot and the girl whirled back to her sharply.

'Sorry, I was looking…' Fritha trailed off uncomfortably. She had been about to say 'to be alone' but it seemed that was exactly what the girl had been doing and since Fritha did not plan on leaving now she had discovered her so, she could not really finish.

Fritha sighed, just sinking down where she had been stood, the girl turning back to the water as though she was not there.

'Helenya-'

'Please,' the girl cut in before she could even begin, her voice wavering and brisk, 'if you hope to comfort me, I would rather you did not. The elf has already spent long enough assuring me it's better to have loved and lost, than never loved at all.'

'What a load of rubbish!' Fritha scoffed before she could stop herself, angry that anyone had even _tried_ to console the girl with such empty platitudes, best of intentions or not. 'Those who have never loved can't miss it, can they? Those who have never loved have it easy!'

The girl glanced back at her angry tone, her expression softening slightly.

'Have you ever lost anyone?'

'Well,' Fritha began and hesitated, a dim memory of warm hazel eyes hovering just on the edge of her senses, and she wondered whether the benefit the girl would gain from such reminiscence would be worth the pain it could mean for her. 'I lost my father not long ago,' she finished eventually, dipping her face slightly, ashamed she was not strong enough to say more. Helenya sighed, leaning forward to rest her chin on her knees.

'It's not the same,' she said finally, her voice coming free from any petulance, but full of a mature resignation that only experience could give.

Fritha shook her head, leaning back against the trunk behind her and drawing her own knees up to her chest, feeling suddenly miserable.

'No. No, it's not.'

Silence fell between them again, the bright chattering of the brook a mockery of the weight upon her heart.

'Helenya,' began Fritha, suddenly desperate to break the silence, to try anything to shift the oppressive air of melancholy over them, 'I understand you and your parents have been having some trouble and that they've plans to send you for your education in Waterdeep, but we can speak with your family, if you wish. They hold Squire Anomen in a high regard, I am sure they would listen to him if he were to speak against you being sent away to school,' she offered, hoping suddenly that Anomen would be willing to advise such a course; he might agree with her parents, after all. But the girl just shook her head

'It is kind of you to offer, but I am really not sure I care anymore. Everything feels so different now, so small and petty.' She smiled absently, glancing back to her. 'To be honest, I rather hope they send me away. How can I live there now? In that house, in that city, where every cobble and brick and tile all hold some memory of him.'

Helenya gazed at her a moment longer before turning back to the water. Fritha said nothing though; what answer could she give?


	27. Pax!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. Nor do I own 'One Art' by Elizabeth Bishop  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Pax!**

Fritha stretched in her chair, letting her attention drift from the checked board before her and travel around the quiet tavern. Draughts had never really been her game, but she was better at it than she was chess, and it was a diverting enough way to spend the afternoon, any time spent with Nalia easily considered time well spent.

The group had all arrived back late the previous evening, escorting Helenya straight home for a very tearful reunion, at least on the part of her parents, before they had all returned to the Coronet, Fritha more than glad to be sleeping in a bed once again.

As for that day, she was not the only one to rise late, the group eventually taking lunch together before everyone left for various errands about the city. Fritha herself collected the reward for Rejiek from the Watch House, taking it straight to the docks to visit the shrine of Mask and make her prayers for both Lirsand and Imoen, the girl finally able to pay her tithes as promised. Then it had been back to the slums to take her remaining coin over to Gaelen, the man chatting idly of the reputation she was getting about the area as he made note of the money in his ledger.

But this had only taken a few hours at the most and she had returned to the tavern in the early afternoon to find Aerie and Haer'Dalis already at a table, Fritha heading straight for her room when Nalia had appeared on the stairs and the two took a table as well, each just as glad to see the other, it seemed.

Fritha smiled as she glanced to the girl opposite her, straight red hair shining in the sunlight that had managed to pierce the grimy window next to them. Nalia had been so nice these last few days, bearing her tantrums and her moping with nothing but an unwavering desire to try and cheer her, which Fritha had to admit, the girl had managed for the most part. The pain of seeing Aerie and Haer'Dalis together, which had started out so sharp, had lessened with Nalia's help to a barely noticeable ache, and now she could look upon the couple with barely more than a twinge, Fritha following the girl's eyes to the table behind them.

Haer'Dalis and Aerie were sat, deep in talk as they often were, Aerie looking even prettier than usual, the elf having combed out her hair and added some jewellery. Fritha sighed. Such a thing would have never even occurred to her. Jaheira was right; she _was_ green. But, she concluded mildly, if that was the sort of thing it took to win him, then perhaps he wasn't worth having.

She watched as the bard leaned in close, his eyes never leaving the elf's as he recited some quiet verse to her, the girl's face a mix of admiration and awe. Fritha let her eyes close slightly, putting herself in the place of the avariel; would she be staring back at him with the same grave adoration? Fritha felt herself smile wryly. No, she would more likely have burst out laughing by now and told the bard to stop taking himself so seriously.

Fritha understood that most people were likely to temper their technique to whomever they were trying to win, but Haer'Dalis seemed to be acting pretty much as himself and the more she considered it, the more she felt they would have probably made a less than ideal match. Still, it would have been nice to find out such with the fullness of time, rather than getting her heart so thoroughly stamped on before the same conclusion could be drawn.

Fritha pulled her attention back to their game, letting the sound of Aerie's giggling wash over her as she contemplated her next move, jumping a piece over two of Nalia's to reach the other side of the board.

'Okay, king me.'

'Hm?' came the girl and Fritha glanced up to see Nalia turning distractedly back to her, her attention clearly still caught by the pair behind them.

'Nalia,' she sighed, tapping an insistent finger upon the black disk in front of her and the girl shook herself, glumly placing another piece atop it.

'Look, let's just give up shall we,' Fritha continued with a gentle smile. 'It's clear your heart's not in it; you can normally beat me hands down.'

'No, no, I'm sorry, I'll pay attention, it's just.' Nalia gritted her teeth as another melodious giggle drifted over them. 'Doesn't it _bother_ you?'

Fritha shrugged.  
'_The art of losing isn't hard to master_,' she quoted with a slight smile, taking another mouthful of tea.

'Yes, but not just the fact he prefers, well…' Nalia trailed off a moment, looking uncomfortable before she gathered herself. 'But the way they _flaunt_ their relations. And have you _seen_ them together, it's like a pantomime!

Fritha grinned. '_Oh, no it isn't!_'

'Fritha!' she cried, playfully smacking her hand and they both laughed warmly, Haer'Dalis's dramatic tones drifting back to them.

'You may have thought I had forgotten our previous plans for your acting, sweet Aerie, in the commotion of our tasks, but I have merely been searching for the perfect role with which to draw out your talents and I now believe I have found it.'

A pointed slap as Fritha assumed said script was thrown onto the table.

'It is from the play _Tersis_, my dove. You would be the goddess, fallen from favour and bearing the slings of accusation and scorn with grace and confidence.'

'And nary a hissy fit in sight,' added Nalia with a smirk, Fritha snorting into her teacup as the bard continued on, oblivious.

'With chin held high, she strides towards her former peers and dares to challenge the false verdict of the higher powers!'

Aerie sighed wistfully.

'That sounds lovely, Haer'Dalis, but it is hardly me.'

Fritha sighed into her cup.

'Yes, Aerie dear, but that would be where the _acting_ comes in.'

Nalia dissolved into whispery laughter, and Fritha found she could not quite suppress a smile either, neither girl noticing as a tall figure arrived at their table.

'You ladies just tending your cauldron, I see,' commented a voice above them and they both glanced up to see Anomen, a slight smile pulling at his mouth.

'Come to join the coven, have you?' asked Fritha with a grin of her own as he sat, the girls quite unashamed at being caught in their malice, it seemed, Nalia tidying away their game to set a cup before him and politely pour him some tea.

'No,' Anomen began, sending the pair a stern look, 'but I am curious as to why you have both suddenly taken to tormenting poor Aerie; every time I look at you both lately you have your heads together whispering on some unkindness or another.'

'Poor Aerie, _indeed_!' hissed Nalia, slamming down the teapot looking outraged, 'I would ask you how she suffers this apparent _torment _when she has yet to acknowledge our existence this last tenday! She wouldn't even notice us two on _fire_, if that actor was in the room as well!'

'Peace, dearest,' soothed Fritha, patting the girl's arm and Anomen sighed wearily. It was as he had suspected. All this green-eyed silliness born from nothing more than the fact their friend had found a sweetheart before them.

'Really,' he scolded, feeling more amused than angry at the way a pair of supposedly sensible young women were behaving more like his sister and her juvenile friends. 'You are both acting as though she has performed some great betrayal! All she has done is formed an attachment with Haer'Dalis. I would warrant either of you would be acting just the same should your positions have been reverse.'

'Well, we shall never know _now_, will we!' snapped Nalia seemingly before she could stop herself, the girl glancing open-mouthed and flustered to Fritha who remained silent.

Anomen drew back, a frown slowly contorting his brow as he stared at them, an unreadable look passing between the girls and Nalia turned back to him as though to explain herself when the chime of cups cut her off and she glanced sharply to the table behind them.

'Oh, here he comes! Quick Anomen, pretend you've said something funny!'

'What?'

'Ah ha ha, oh Anomen, you're a positive _cad_!'

Fritha, who had looked as nonplussed as he, suddenly burst out laughing at Nalia's affected tone and with such a look of surprise that Anomen could not help but join her, and the effect must have looked quite natural as Haer'Dalis arrived at the table.

'How very merry,' came the man, though Anomen had already stopped laughing, realising that it may not be doing a lot for his stance of disapproving of the girls. 'What are you finding so amusing?'

'Nothing, nothing,' replied Nalia airily with a false smile, the one the bard sent her in return no more genuine.

'Keep your secrets if you wish, my bird, I desired only to know if you wanted any more tea; I am going to the bar.'

A round of polite dissent and he moved off.

'Really Nalia,' Anomen hissed, feeling slighting annoyed that she had brought him into her silliness, 'you are behaving like a child!'

Nalia rolled her eyes. 'Gods Anomen, do be quiet! You scold like my maiden aunt.'

He coloured at that, but she did not notice, the girl glancing back to where Haer'Dalis had now rejoined the elf, the man kissing Aerie's hand gently as he took her a cup and Nalia gave a small snort of disgust.

'Another moment here and I shall be _sick_! I am going to my room,' she announced, rising abruptly and turning her gaze to Fritha, 'are you coming as well?'

The girl sent the pair a glance as Nalia had, her face a mask as she shook her head.

'No, I am fine here.'

Nalia sighed, sending her a strangely pained look before she swept off upstairs. Fritha watched her go before dropping her gaze back to her cup, reaching for the teapot with a sigh.

'Would you like anymore, Anomen?'

'No thank you, my lady.'

He watched as she refilled her cup with slow deliberate movements and he was given the distinct impression she was avoiding his eye.

'I understand, my lady,' he continued more gently than his rebuking of Nalia had been, for the girl had held an air of melancholy lately, which he did not understand, but had no desire to exacerbate. 'That you both feel a little injured by the way Aerie has been ignoring you of late, but I must admit I did _not_ expect you to behave, well, so pettily.'

He would have anticipated indignation at this, excuses, or even anger, but an amused albeit if tired smile suddenly lit Fritha's face, her voice warm with suppressed laughter as she replied, 'my pettiness is unexpected, eh? Is that a compliment? Either way I do not blame you, for I wouldn't have expected I could be this petty myself. I imagine it is quite unbecoming as well, but…'

She sighed, taking a sip of tea and the smile finally faded.

'Sometimes, it is the usually fulfilling noble path that leaves one emptiest of all. And you find all that _taking the higher ground_ and being_ happy for people_ just doesn't help and the only thing that makes you feel any better is a few snide comments under your breath and a bit of quiet laughter.'

She sighed tiredly.

'Don't get me wrong. I am still Aerie's friend and I would never wish to see her hurt or upset, but I do not believe she has noticed Nalia and I, either in the fact she had hurt us or in the comments which result from it.'

'I still do not think it is right,' he pressed but the girl merely shrugged.

'In my heart, neither do I, but then I never professed to be a saint, Anomen, and while this still helps us and does not hurt her, I shall continue to share laughter with Nalia just as surely as Aerie shares kisses with Haer'Dalis. So,' she continued, taking another drink of her tea and sitting up straighter in her chair as though to physically indicate a change of topic, 'is Helenya back and settled with her family?'

'Yes. Her parents are overjoyed by her return; I truly believe they gave up hope when they received the ransom note. They seem sincerely aggrieved too, by the way they misjudged Lirsand,' Anomen sighed slightly, 'though it would all seem a little late now.'

Fritha nodded, looking tired. 'And Helenya?'

He sighed deeply. 'She is, as she was. Quite composed and utterly indifferent.'

She had actually reminded him quite a bit of Fritha as she had sat there between her parents, gazing out at the world with an absent look.

'Here, the reward we were promised for her return,' he continued more brightly, placing a purse of gold upon the table before her, 'I informed the city guard of the whereabouts of the bandit group's last campsite; perhaps they can catch those left.'

'Indeed, and do the Order know of our success?' she asked innocently.

'Yes, I believe the Cornwells may have informed them of it,' he answered, trying to affect an indifferent air, but Fritha could clearly tell he was pleased, the girl sat opposite him grinning widely. 'And what of you?' he continued, 'have you collected your reward from the Watch?'

'Yes and delivered it to Gaelen this morning, along with the coin Nalia and Minsc earned us. He'd heard about Rejiek and even the bandits; we seem to be making quite a reputation for ourselves in the slums.'

Anomen nodded once, feeling a surge of pride.

'Indeed, it is satisfying to be able to enjoy the glory of our accomplishments.'

But the girl just shrugged, such things apparently outside her concern.

'I suppose, I don't really think about it.'

'Perhaps it is easier for you to say such since you are _already _the Hero of Baldur's Gate,' he offered curtly, trying to keep the slight twinge of envy he felt from his voice, but Fritha merely snorted.

'Oho. _Now_ they call us heroes. But mere days before the whole of the Gate was singing our praises, we were outlaws, sentenced to be hanged and unable to even walk the streets of that fair city for fear of capture. Saviour, hero; they are just words on the lips of others and susceptible to change at whim.'

Anomen frowned; she sounded like Keldorn.

'So which path should one follow then, if glory is not to be the aim?'

Fritha shrugged mildly.

'In the end, only your heart can be your guide. Follow it. Perhaps you will find glory, perhaps not, but you can always look back and know you were true to yourself.'

Anomen sighed; she was _worse_ than Keldorn.

'Well, yes and it is all very well to say as such, but sometimes things are not so clear.'

Fritha sent him a puzzled frown. 'Really, how so?'

'Well, your treatment of Aerie for example- do not roll your eyes so, it was merely the first thing I seized upon. You and Nalia are treating her most unfairly.'

Fritha smiled, giving a nod of agreement as she took another drink.

'Yes, but I'm not following my heart, I'm acting in spite of its wishes. My heart, like my head, only advises. Ultimately, the decision is my own. There is much I do, Anomen, that is against my heart.'

Anomen frowned.

'So you are saying that you always know which path is right?' he asked, his words coming more curtly than he'd intended and sounding like a demand though the girl just shrugged.

'Right by my definition of the term, yes.' She stared across the table at him, her confusion evident. 'Are you saying you don't?'

'No, my lady, I do not,' he answered trying to keep the terseness from his tone, irked by her amazed expression.

'But how do you know which path to take?'

Anomen sighed, his frustrations building.

'As I said before, I do not always.'

'But surely,' the girl continued, a nervous laughter wavering behind her voice, 'surely, when you quiet your mind and your desires and- and everything, and you look into your heart, surely then you know, don't you?'

'No!' he answered crossly, 'and I cannot believe it is so clear to _you_ either. You say you just look inside yourself and see your path, but how do you know it is the right one, the right way?'

'But why wouldn't it be?' she countered with the same bewilderment and the discussion continued in the same vein for quite some time.

But he could not understand how she always instinctively knew what to do, and for her part, Fritha seemed to find it difficult to believe that deep down he did not, and they reached something of an impasse, silence descending between them. A familiar giggle drifted over the table and Fritha sighed.

'I think I'll go and check on Nalia.'

Anomen nodded and watched her go before turning his gaze to where Aerie and Haer'Dalis were leaned in close once more, the bard gently playing with a lock of her hair as they spoke. When he had realised there was to be a relationship of that sort within their group he had wondered if it was such a wise idea. Such things could easily go sour and cause unwanted tension, especially when the bard had already proved himself to be less than trustworthy. But the man's affection seemed unexpectedly genuine and Anomen wondered yet again, why the girls seemed so turned over by it all.

xxx

Dusk had fallen outside by the time Fritha returned to the common room, Nalia, Minsc and Jaheira sat at their usual table by the window and bright against the darkened glass, Nalia looking up to send her a smile as she took a seat.

Fritha had looked in on the girl earlier as she said would, Nalia glancing up from the book she was reading and smiling brightly as she welcomed her in. But Fritha had not wished to disturb her, perching on the end of her bed just long enough to confirm her friend was all right, before returning to her own room and spending the rest of the afternoon making note of the supplies they had, including what they'd taken from the bandits' camp, with plans to trade whatever they did not need for new equipment before they next left the city.

Though when that would be she was not sure, and her mind drifted back to the unending problem of finding them more work. Anomen would have mentioned it if the Order had any suitable task for them, as would Renal, so Fritha supposed they would have to start looking about the city again. Still, she and Jaheira never did make it to Council Buildings to look at the bounties; perhaps that would prove fruitful. But finding them more work had not been the only matter she had been dwelling on that afternoon.

Fritha sighed to herself. Her conversation with Anomen had got her thinking, and though his words themselves had not made her feel the slightest bit ashamed of her past behaviour, she could no longer claim to be as hurt as she once had been by Aerie and Haer'Dalis's actions and Fritha had decided it about time to put all this unpleasantness behind them.  
Though whether Nalia would share her view or not was another matter, Fritha considered with a glance to the girl next to her, currently laughing about something with Minsc and looking so sweet and friendly it was hard to believe she held such a sharp tongue. There really was a lot of truth in the saying 'Hells hath no fury like a woman scorned' and Fritha concluded that if any reconciliation was going to be made, she was better off leading by example.

And as though the fates agreed with her, the sound of familiar voices interrupted her thoughts and Fritha glanced up to see Aerie and Haer'Dalis descending into the tavern, the elf with her hair down about her, though not as she usually wore it. In amongst the golden tresses now hung sections of hair wrapped in brightly coloured silks, the beads that were fastened at their ends rattling slightly as she approached.

'_What _has happened to your hair, Aerie?' exclaimed the ever subtle Jaheira with a frown.

'Sorry?' the elf questioned, moving a hand self-consciously up to the brightly coloured threads at her shoulder, before seeming to realise. 'Oh, Haer'Dalis did it.'

'It looks nice, doesn't it?' said Fritha kindly, turning to the girl next to her for an agreement. Nalia pretended not to hear her.

'Well, I can do yours as well, if you wish, my raven,' Haer'Dalis smiled, holding out a hand, 'Do you have a comb with you?'

Fritha remained silent, her heart quickening unpleasantly and for a moment all she could see were two soft hazel eyes, the tavern's din suddenly replaced by the whisper of dune grass.

'No,' she said at last, her voice sounding distant to her, 'no thank you.'

Haer'Dalis shrugged and the couple sat, Anomen joining them soon afterwards and Fritha felt herself calm again as they ordered the food and their meal was brought, a warm air of camaraderie falling over the table as they ate together. Minsc was recounting Nalia's fury when they had made their delivery to Farrel's estate, Nalia looking a touch embarrassed while Haer'Dalis and Jaheira laughed, Anomen claming such nobles deserved no less. Fritha herself, recalling the decision she had made but an hour or so before, spent the meal politely asking Aerie how her acting was progressing, offering to introduce her to Zeran or other members of the troupe, though the elf declined shyly.

The meal over, Anomen left promptly to attend evensong and the talk lulled as a maid came to clear the dishes, Haer'Dalis pushing back his chair to turn to the girl next to him with a smile.

'Would you like to walk out, my dove? The night is very fine.'

Nalia pulled a face behind her cup and Fritha fought against a grin, a twinge of guilt squirming in her stomach; old habits were hard to break, it seemed. Aerie glanced from him to her though, hesitant, and Fritha offered her a friendly smile, the elf's words completely unexpected.

'Ah, well, I was wondering whether Fritha and, ah, Nalia would like to spend the evening teaching me to embroider, as w-we once planned?'

Nalia almost choked on her tea in her haste to refuse.

'N-'

'Yes, we'd be happy to, _wouldn't_ _we_,' interrupted Fritha with a meaningful glare to her friend, Nalia scowling as Fritha turned back to the elf with a polite smile. 'Shall we go to your room now, Aerie? We can send for wine once we're there.'

Nalia, though, thought it would be quicker to get wine straight from the bar and Aerie watched as the two girls moved off together to be lost in the crowds there, every now and then catching glimpses of a rather heated discussion through the press, before they at last returned with wine and cups, and the three went upstairs.

Nalia instantly disappeared into her own room, much to Aerie's dismay, until Fritha smiled and told her she was just going to get her bag before leaving to get her own, Aerie setting the cups on her desk and busying herself over the wine, feeling strangely nervous as she waited for the pair to return.

'Here we are!' sang Fritha as they appeared in the doorway, the girl dropping her bag next to the fireplace and moving to help herself to one of the cups, as easy and comfortable as though the last few days had not happened and Aerie turned back to see Nalia lingering before the door.

'Here, ah, let me take your bag,' she offered, Nalia sending her a sullen look though she did hand it over, Aerie placing it carefully next to Fritha's before turning back to the girl, the silence seeming to swell between them.

'What is _this_, Aerie?' came a voice behind her and she turned to see Fritha, a cup of wine in one hand, one of the old spellbooks she had left on her desk in the other, the girl staring at it open-mouthed, glancing up as she pretended to read from the cover, 'I heart H.D.? A. four H.D. four ever?'

'Give that back,' Aerie cried, grabbing it from her, 'doesn't say that at all!'

Fritha was already laughing her head off though, making enthusiastic kissing noises as Nalia smirked into her sleeve, but it was not unkindly meant and Aerie could not help but smile even as she felt herself colour.

As much as she enjoyed Haer'Dalis's companionship, she had felt guilty as well and the idea that Fritha was not left broken-hearted by the way things had turned out was as welcome to Aerie as her friendship. Aerie watched as the girl passed Nalia a cup of wine with a smile, the question on her lips before she could stop herself.

'Fritha, what do you think of Haer'Dalis?'

Nalia looked suddenly furious, but the girl in question just shrugged.

'What do I think of him? Well, he's short, talkative, ornithologically-minded-'

'Fritha!' Aerie laughed and the girl smiled, taking sip of wine as she continued.

'I like him, of course. But I am sure that whether _I _like him is not the question keeping him awake tonight…'

Even Nalia laughed then, though whether it was at the girl's roguish grin or the fact Aerie could feel her face glowing scarlet, she was not sure.

The air of the room seemed lighter after their shared laughter though and the three settled on the bed, the girls busying themselves setting out needles and silks, Fritha and Nalia explaining between them the names of the needles and the stitches, Nalia showing her examples of each from her own work.

Aerie smiled as she watched the pair, arguing genially over which stitches were best sewn on a hoop. Though she had to admit her attentions had been rather caught up with Haer'Dalis over the last few days, she had missed the girls' company all the same, catching glimpses of them now and then as they laughed and talked together in a world she was no longer a part of, and it was heartening to know that all was not lost between them.

'So,' continued Fritha, breaking through her thoughts, 'why this suddenly renewed desire to learn how to embroider- you're not going to start sewing little hearts over all your clothes, are you?' she added with a wary look and Nalia laughed.

Aerie smiled, Fritha's light-hearted teasing banishing the last of her worries and she at last felt free to enjoy her feelings.

'No,' she answered quite seriously before she sighed, the sensation so strong she just had to share it with someone and yet it felt almost impossible to put into words. Aerie shook her head.

'I can't tell you how happy I am. I never thought it possible after, well…' She smiled. 'When I'm with him, it is as though there are only us two in all the world.'

Fritha smiled slightly as well, taking another sip of wine. 'Yes, I think I may have heard of _that_ feeling.'

Aerie leant back again the headboard with a blissful sigh.

'Have either of you ever been in love?'

'No,' said Nalia, dropping her attention promptly back to her sewing and Aerie was given the distinct impression she would not have told her even if she had. The elf swallowed, determined not to let a few days of petty quarrelling ruin what had been the beginnings of a strong friendship.

'What of you, Fritha?'

The girl was looking blankly through the window, but started back at her name.

'Sorry?'

'Have you ever been in love?'

'Me?' she snorted, her incredulity apparent. 'Gods, no! I never really… well…' She tailed off with a shake of her head, her smile seeming more forced than usual as she continued, 'I suppose I used to be rather wary of men, and now…'

'And now?' prompted Nalia, the girl's curiosity piqued as well.

'And now, things seem to be the other way round!' Fritha finished with a bark of laughter.

'Oh, don't say that,' Aerie cried, the thought of the girl anything less than happy when she was so contented suddenly unbearable for her, 'why, I- I saw that elf talking to you at the bar yesterday evening.'

But the girl really laughed then.

'What, _Salvanus_? He makes advances to anything with a _pulse_. Straight after talking with me, he was trying to court Jaheira of all people! The man has a death wish! Now let's start this embroidery, do you have anything you can practise on?'

Aerie found an old handkerchief at the bottom of her bag and they spent the rest of the evening showing her a few of the simpler stitches and the way they could be brought together to make flowers or leaves, Aerie's accomplishment of the night being a small cluster of daisies in backstitch and cormyrian knots, about which even Nalia found something nice to say.

'Well,' sighed Fritha, stretching out her back and rolling up the stocking she had been mending as she rose from the bed, 'it's getting late. I had best get some sleep.'

'Oh, of course,' nodded Aerie, laying down the sewing she had been so intent upon to throw Nalia hopeful glance, 'Are you staying, Nalia?'

The girl gave a half-hearted yawn and promptly packed her sewing away.

'No, I think I shall retire as well.'

Aerie looked slightly hurt, but nodded and smiled all the same, seeming to understand such things would take time.

'Well, sleep well then.'

The pair nodded, moving out into the hall and both stopping as they reach Fritha's door, Nalia's room further along the corridor. The girl turned to Fritha, a frown that was not meant for her furrowing her brow.

'Are you all right? I mean she was acting-'

'Like someone in love?' Fritha smiled, amused by the consistent irony of how _in_sensitive such sensitivity could make someone. 'I am fine. Even better for hearing her, actually. She likes Haer'Dalis more than I think I could have ever allowed myself.'

Nalia raised an eyebrow.  
'The group still first in your _affections_, then?'

'Always,' Fritha answered gravely and the girl shook her head, laying a hand upon her arm as though she would say something else. But finally she sighed and bade her goodnight, Fritha watching her disappear through her door before turning into her own room.

She changed quickly, the day long due an end as slipped between the sheets, sinking back onto the cool pillows with a sigh and closing her eyes. But it was no use; even on the edge of sleep, her mind would give her no peace, flitting tirelessly among concerns of the future and memories long buried, and she returned to the same question that had been haunting her for days now: had she given up on the tiefling too easily?

But even as she questioned it again, she knew in her soul the answer, had finally known her decision was the right one ever since Haer'Dalis had held his hand out for her comb and her heart had skipped, not at his offer, but at the memory it had stirred. Fritha sighed, nestling down in the blankets as though hoping to bury herself from the thought.

It was nice to see Aerie so happy and she and Haer'Dalis worked well together, and much more harmoniously than Fritha suspected _she_ would have been with the bard.

Haer'Dalis was still, of course, _very_ interesting and would make a good friend, but he was not for her. She needed someone who would like her just as she was; not because she didn't want to make the effort, but more for the fact that with everything else she found herself worrying about, she was bound to forget she was supposed look be looking nice or being charming, or the like.

And, Fritha considered practically as she let her eyes trace along a long crack in the plaster of her ceiling, was it so unreasonable to expect such?

Indeed, someone had once be able to overlook that fact she had been washed ashore mere hours before and see something inside her. Something he must have valued very highly indeed considering the lengths he went to in order to preserve it…  
Fritha frowned, pulling her mind away from the memory of that kind warm boy and closing her eyes; some things were best left forgotten.

It did not feel as though she had been asleep more than a few minutes, though the pale grey light of dawn that filled the room said different, Fritha awoken by a furious knocking at her door. She leapt from the bed, an unnamed panic filling her as she hurriedly pulled her tunic on over her shift and threw open the door, Anomen swinging into view, though not as she had ever seen him; hair and clothes dishevelled, his normally tanned skin ashen.

'Please my lady,' he began, his voice breaking, 'it-it is my sister…'


	28. He who seeks revenge

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**He who seeks revenge…**

The sun was just risen by the time the four left the inn, but the world was still as grey; heavy dark clouds boiling overhead, while rain hung in the air as fine as mist. Fritha shook her head, still unable to believe the last hour had actually happened. Anomen appearing at her door, pale and shaken, to inform her that he had just had news his sister had been killed, Fritha so stunned it had been a while before she'd spoken and even then she had found it hard to express the intensity of her regret, just saying sorry until the word sounded hollow.

Her stomach tightened as she recalled Anomen's empty look as he had nodded his thanks, the stiff way he had recited for her what little the messenger had told him; that his sister had been found dead in her room three days ago under suspicious circumstances, and had since been cremated.

He believed the steward of his house, Llewelyn, would have more information and he wished to visit his home straight away, as much for the hope that his father would still be sleeping off the previous evening's excess as anything else. They were all fair enough requests and, to be honest, Fritha would have agreed to whatever he'd asked; it was all she could do.

And so, she had dressed hurriedly before joining him in the hall. Anomen had not wanted them all to go and Fritha could not see the point in waking anyone but Jaheira, Nalia hearing them gathering in the hallway and asking to attend also. Anomen had agreed and Fritha had written a note for the others as the women quickly dressed as well, pushing it under Aerie's door before they left.

Fritha pulled her cloak about her more tightly. It was a cold morning, and it seemed to have sunk into her very bones, the girl unable to stop shivering as she followed Anomen and Jaheira across the city, Nalia at her side. No one was speaking and Fritha risked a glance to the girl next to her, Nalia returning her look with a sad smile and they each turned back to the path before them in silence.

They had crossed the river by now, the buildings around them becoming larger as they moved into the more affluent north of the city. Anomen led them along a wide tree-lined street and down a terraced square, great houses and estates on all sides, a collection of terracotta-tiled roofs coming into view as they moved down the steps.

They all belonged to the same building and Fritha let her eyes linger over it as they drew closer. The pale sandstone manor walled on one side by the terrace, it was enclosed on the other three by a high wall, but she could still see the house beyond, a covered balcony set into the upper floor, thinly columned archways running the length of it with a pattern of blue and green tiles decorating the curve of each.

It really was quite beautiful and she wondered absently who lived there; a wealthy lord perhaps, or maybe a powerful mage, and Fritha could hardly believe it when Anomen stopped at the gate, drawing a large iron key from his bag to place it in the lock, the gate opening with an angry shriek.  
It was his house.

He led them through the gateway and down a set of steps into a large courtyard, a row of stables to their left, the house before them and even more imposing up close and though she had always known Anomen had been of noble blood, it had never before occurred to her how rich his family was. Or at least, had been, for she could see now all was not as she would have expected from her first impression. The stables were empty, with gaps in the roofs where slates had been lost and weeds were pushing their way up between the cobbles of the courtyard, a glance up revealing tiles missing from the arches she had been so admiring from afar.

Anomen looked troubled by the sight as well, his voice barely audible as he muttered something about the lack of guards and led them across the square, the group gathering under the arches of the porch as he stepped forward to knock soundly on the door, the wood swinging open after a moment to reveal a stout dark-haired maid of middling years.

'Lord Anomen, you've returned,' she gasped, shaking her head as she continued sadly, 'I am so sorry for your loss.'

Anomen merely nodded his thanks though and pressed on.  
'Sylvia, why is there no guard on the gate? Is Llewelyn awake? I would speak with him.'

'Llewelyn?' she repeated looking suddenly uneasy, 'Sir, I, well, he has not worked here for months now.'

'Left, you say?' confirmed Anomen with a frown, 'he put up with my father for this long, what changed?'

'Well, sir, Lord Cor has found himself in difficulties this last year or so and it came to the point where, well…' she looked embarrassed to finish, and glanced to the squire as though hoping he would end the sentence for her. But Anomen remained silent and in the end she dropped her eyes to continue, 'Your father could no longer afford to pay him, my lord. The guards and the other servants were dismissed soon after. He keeps only four of us on now.'

Fritha could see from Anomen's expression that this was all something of a shock for him, and she wondered whether his sister had thought to save him from worrying by not mentioning any of it.

'I see,' he said finally, stony faced and Fritha felt a weight drop into her stomach as he added, 'And is my _father _awake?'

The woman nodded nervously, showing them through into a reception room of sorts, low benches set against two of the walls, a large square pool in its centre fed by the rainwater that would have poured through the opening in the ceiling above, though it was shuttered that day. Anomen left them promptly, disappearing through a set of dark wooden doors to look for his father and he clearly found him soon after, the three stood and sat in uncomfortable silence, while the muffled sounds of two men raging at each other drifted in from the adjacent room.

Fritha stood leaning against the opposite wall feeling increasingly uneasy as the moments dragged by. It was not as if she wasn't used to arguing, especially if it involved Anomen, but this was different, they were fighting with such anger, such barely concealed loathing. Across the room, she could see Jaheira becoming edgy; the druid sensed it too. This place had known nothing but hatred for so long, it seemed to have seeped into the very stones.

Fritha shifted nervously and went back to staring at her feet, her damp clothes clinging to her unpleasantly and serving only to increase her unease as the shouting in the next room went up a notch. She had half hoped this tragedy would reconcile Anomen with his father, but the way things seemed to be going…

Suddenly, their exchange lulled and after a moment, Anomen appeared at the doorway, his face grey with sorrow. The three looked up to him expectantly, but he did not even seem to see them, focusing only on her.

'Fritha, come with me to Moira's urn. I would speak with you.'

Fritha just nodded and straightened, following him meekly to the other door, quite unable to hide her surprise as he opened it onto not another room but another courtyard, a verdant, albeit overgrown, garden visible through the fine veil of rain.

A covered walkway ran along one side of the courtyard and Anomen led the way, from the door they had just opened and through the door opposite into the family chapel. It was cool inside, almost cold and she felt her back shiver under her tunic as she followed the man to the shrine, light from the stained glass windows above them dappling the stone floor with colour, a familiar eye of Helm hanging above the altar. The candles atop it were already lit, an ornate gold urn set between them, surrounded by flowers and, most touchingly, a worn cloth doll, and Fritha wondered who had arranged it so; Anomen's father did not seem the sort.

Fritha dipped her head as the squire blessed himself, feeling increasingly awkward stood there by the ashes of someone she'd never known, while Anomen contemplated it in dark silence. Though she herself had lost many people recently and Anomen was her friend despite their constant arguments, Fritha still felt as though she had been brought in to something in which she had no place. She knew she should be saying or doing something, but looking back, she found she could remember nothing of what had ever been said to her. But before she could get too fraught, Anomen broke the silence.

'_Discussions_,' he began and Fritha wondered whether she just imagined the slight stress to the word, 'with my father have confirmed what we have already been told; my sister was indeed murdered and he believes he knows by whom. A merchant by the name of Saerk apparently has something of a vendetta against my father, and he believes the murder of my sister is just another step to ruin him. I am sad to say that for my father Moria's death probably means little more, but I must admit-' his voice faltered and Fritha felt her heart twist, 'admit to being most sorely grieved by this news and yet, though the choice seems clear and right, I am hesitant to take it.'

Fritha was surprised. _Nothing_ about this seemed clear to her.

'Surely,' he continued, his voice strengthening slightly, 'if Saerk killed my sister I must avenge her. Yet killing for the purpose of revenge is murder by the tenets of the Order… I know not what I should do.'

Anomen turned, fixing her with that confused desperate gaze and Fritha's heart seemed to stop. He was asking her for advice.  
But what could she say? She didn't know anything about the situation, about honour or tenets. She usually, when confronted with a problem, just did what she felt like at the time, breezing through life without the restrictions of intangible things like pride or vows. But, she considered, she always was _very_ aware of the restrictions of her own heart…

Fritha had come to realise lately that others did not necessarily see things quite as clearly as she did and it was then she found herself thinking something she'd never even considered possible.  
_What would Whelan do?_

Fritha advising people like herself was fine, but if you were advising someone like Anomen, with all these invisible rules surrounding them, then you needed someone with the same rulebook. She looked up at him, his pale blue eyes watching her intently. Whelan would have served the law, would have served his vows, however undesired the result.

'Anomen, though sometimes it may feel warranted, killing for revenge _is _murder. I know there are some who would walk the path anyway though, believing the end justifies the means.' She sent him a gentle look. 'Only you can decide whether you are one of them.'

Anomen sighed and shook his head, eyes lingering on the ornate vase beneath them, the surrounding flowers seeming inappropriately bright.  
'What you say holds true yet, as my father says, I am honour-bound to find my sister's killer and take his life.'

'You are honour-bound to the vows you made to the Order,' she reminded gently, his brow furrowing as he turned back to her, his tone almost challenging.

'But what other choice have I?'

'Well, what of the courts here?' she reasoned, surprised it was she rather than he suggesting such a course. 'If Saerk is the murderer then he must most definitely be made to pay for his crime.'

'If?' Anomen repeated evenly, 'you do not believe he is guilty?'

Fritha shrugged.

'I do not know, but I cannot just go on the word of your father, especially when he seems to hold such hatred for the man.'

'Aye,' Anomen finally agreed, 'aye, you are right. I feel it in my bones.'

Fritha felt awash with relief. She did not relish the idea of getting involved in some bloody feud and knew the others would be reluctant to partake in any revenge attack, however justified it seemed. Though Anomen was not always the easiest person to get along with, she would have disliked to part ways with him at such a difficult time in his life.

'We shall take this matter before the magistrate. My father's vengeance be damned!' Anomen announced defiantly, banishing the last of Fritha's worries. This was the _right_ decision.

xxx

The weather had worsened in the time they had spent at the Delryn estate and outside the rain was hammering against the cobbles, Fritha expecting to hear a peal of thunder at any moment. The main Council Building was but a few streets from Anomen's home and the group made the way quickly, pushing through the heavy oak doors to enter a grey stone entrance hall, corridors and stairs leading from it, a circle of six stars on a field of blue picked out in the tiles underfoot.

They all crowded together just before the doors, pushing back hoods and shaking off wet cloaks, a passing clerk sending a pointed look to the water they were pooling on the stone tiles as another younger man in dark grey robes bustled over to them with an officious air.

'The city bounties are on display in the west of the building, just take-'

'We are here to see the magistrate,' interrupted Jaheira with her usual respect for authority.

The clerk looked surprised, but recovered quickly.

'Oh, do you have an appointment?'

'No, but it is a matter of great importance,' Nalia assured him with a stern confidence, the man looking to each of them before seeming to decide that just dismissing them would not be an option.

'Oh well, I suppose I could see if the magistrate can fit you in,' he sighed, in the manner of one about to move mountains, 'your name?'

'Anomen Delryn,' said the man himself, speaking for the first time since he had left his home, 'son of Lord Cor.'

'Very well, wait here please.'

The clerk sighed again and hurried off down the corridor, reappearing moments later looking rather pleased with himself.

'I have spoken with the magistrate and she can give you a few moments just before the eleventh hour, if you wish to return then-'

'We'll wait,' chorused Fritha and Jaheira. The clerk seemed to just manage to suppress rolling his eyes and gestured to the bench behind them.

'As you wish,' he sighed and left to return to his duties, Fritha turning to the girl next to her.

'Could you go back and let the others know what's happening please, Nalia.'

The girl nodded and threw up her hood to step back out into the rain, leaving them to take the bench they had been proffered and wait.

The air was cool and still, people gliding back and forth along the hallway, no one speaking above a whisper. The time dragged on, painfully slow, the bells in the tower above marking the hour three times before, at last, the young clerk returned and they were led along a hallway and into a large airy room, banners from various houses and guilds hanging from the walls, the high windows showing the boiling grey sky beyond.

At the back of the room a long table was set upon a dais, three high-backed wooden chairs stood behind it though two were empty, the third occupied by a short, stern-looking woman of late middle age, her pale blonde curls streaked with grey. Her eyebrows were thick and few shades darker than her hair, giving her the appearance of one permanently frowning, though her eyes were kind as she beckoned them forward.

'Please be upstanding for the Right Honourable Magistrate, Bylanna Ianulin,' announced the clerk self-importantly, which Fritha thought was a bit of a waste of time since all bar the woman herself were stood anyway, and the magistrate seemed to be suppressing a sigh as well, dismissing the man with a nod.

'Good business, citizens,' she greeted amiably as she turned to them, 'Is there aught I can help you with?'

Anomen stepped forward to bow politely.  
'Yes, honourable magistrate. I am seeking information on the murder of my sister, Moira Delryn.'

'Ah, you must be Lord Cor's son, Anomen isn't it?' Bylanna confirmed with a gentle smile, sighing ruefully as she continued, 'I am afraid there is little I can tell you regarding your sister's death.'

'What do you mean?' said Anomen, taking another step forward 'Surely you have found evidence to link Saerk to her murder. The man will be brought to justice, will he not?'

The woman shook her head, sympathetic but resolute.  
'I am sorry, but there is insufficient evidence to connect Saerk Farrahd to the crime. I am aware of your family's feud with the merchant but a motive is not enough without witnesses or evidence. The rule of law must prevail.'

'There must be something that can be done,' he cried and Fritha winced at the stricken tone of his voice. 'Moira's death cannot go unanswered!'

'Unanswered?' Bylanna repeated, a certain sternness creeping into her manner. 'I am truly sorry for your loss, but there is no evidence it was Saerk. Take vengeance on the merchant and he responds in kind and the hostility continues unabated.' The woman sighed, sending him a gentle look. 'Do you not think it is time for this feud to end?'

'I- I do not know…' he murmured, turning at last from the woman to glance to her and Fritha bit her lip, having to force herself to meet his gaze as she quietly replied, 'If there is no evidence, Anomen…'

Next to her, Jaheira nodded.

'We cannot act outside the law,' she said firmly, reiterating the words of the magistrate, her voice full of conviction as she continued. 'Men such as these are often caught out by their own schemes. If it truly was Saerk then he will suffer his punishment in time.'

But the squire just nodded and turned back to Bylanna, his look empty.

'I thank you for your time, magistrate,' he said finally, bowing again before turning to leave and in silence they followed.


	29. A foreign country

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

_Author's note: Since this will probably be the last chapter I publish this year, I'd like the take the chance to thank my three Beta readers, Drew, Maje and Ella, and everyone who has been reading the story over the past twelve months. See you in the new year. _

_Oh, and Merry Christmas!_

– Blackcross & Taylor

**A foreign country**

Fritha stood huddled under the archway, her cloak drawn about her against the chill, rain pelting against the cobbles of the courtyard as the moments crept slowly by. Jaheira had been unwilling to leave her, but she'd eventually convinced the druid to go. Part of her had wanted to go too and forget that whole horrible mess. But she felt too responsible now, too tangled up in it to free herself and when Anomen announced he would have to go back to inform his father of the verdict, Fritha would hear nothing against her joining him. So now she was stood in his doorway waiting, the sounds of shouting and the occasional smash drifting through the wood.

Fritha sighed gently. Poor Anomen. If it was not enough to lose a sister, he did not even have the comfort of a family to ease the loss.  
_Neither do you_, reminded a voice behind her eyes and she felt surprised to realise it was true. She had been travelling with Minsc and Jaheira for so long now, well, she had just never noticed.

Fritha shook her head sadly. She could only imagine the torment he must be going through, for Imoen had only been arrested and hope remained to see her again.  
_She could be dead already for all you know_… sniped the voice behind her eyes with an air of callous practicality, but Fritha quickly pulled her mind away from that thought, it made her feel sick.

Suddenly the door was flung open and Anomen stormed out, grabbing her wrist and pulling her with him, the bottle that followed narrowly missing his head to smash on the wall beyond. A second later, Lord Cor appeared in the doorway, tall and of Amnian colouring though he bore little resemblance to Anomen in either look or manner, the man leaning heavily against the doorframe for support and still shouting drunken threats after his son.

'If you leave now, you are forever banished!'

Anomen whirled round and Fritha prepared herself for another bout of shouting, but instead he seemed suddenly calm.

'Goodbye father,' he said with finality, before he turned and strode off out in to the rain, Fritha left with little choice but to hurry after him, the sound of his father's screaming following them across the courtyard.

'You are nothing! NOTHING!'

xxx

Anomen was striding ahead, regardless of the rain, and Fritha hurried along next to him, the wet streets a blur as she tried to match the pace of the taller man. Though he knew the others were waiting for them at the Copper Coronet, he had yet to head in the direction of the slums and seemed to be walking just for the sake of it. Fritha could sense the anger boiling inside him and knew he was trying to calm down before he had to face the others, before he had to face anyone.

Suddenly he stopped and Fritha, in her efforts to keep up, almost hurtled in to the back of him. He turned to face her, his whole form tense, as though he could snap at any moment.

'My anger is built up to the point where I must speak. I must gain some reassurance! My father cast me out of the family for doing only what I must. I cannot do anything when there is no proof and he knows it. And yet…'

Anomen leaned in close, his eyes narrowed and voice low, suggesting something more primal was fighting for control.  
'My heart cries out for vengeance! I am so full of hate I can barely control it!'

Fritha felt properly frightened by this point, though more for him than herself. But perhaps he saw this in her eyes, because his wild look disappeared as fast as it had surfaced, and when he spoke again he just sounded tired and confused.

'Everything just feels so wrong. My sister lies dead while that murderer, Saerk, still roams free. Please, Fritha, did I do the right thing?'

Fritha felt her stomach groan. The _last_ thing she wanted to do was impart any more of her so-called 'advice', but she'd found once given, it became increasingly difficult to distance herself from the situation. Until you were caught, as much a part of it as any other of the players and you found yourself stood in the pouring rain, trying desperately to convince someone of something that you, yourself, were unsure. No more advice, she decided forcefully. Perhaps just a little guidance this time, something rhetorical…

'How would you feel if you killed Saerk and then found him to be innocent?'

Anomen seemed to consider this a moment before nodding wearily.  
'Aye, true,' he sighed, straightening to shake the wet hair from his forehead, 'but I still feel so helpless. Surely he will pay for what he has done?'

'If it was he, then yes, I believe he will pay,' she reassured gravely, staring up at him, blinking the rain from her eyes.

He nodded again, glancing back to her and it was the first time he seemed to truly notice her, stood before him and drenched to the bone. He frowned.  
'Come, we should return to the inn.'

She nodded and, ignoring her protests, he draped his own cloak about her shoulders and they set off.

xxx

Inside, the inn was packed with people all trying to escape the storm outside. The air was close and humid and Fritha immediately slipped off the two wet cloaks, handing Anomen's back to him. The man nodded his thanks and muttered something about 'retiring early' before pushing his way through the crowds and heading upstairs. Fritha scanned the room, spotting Jaheira and the girls at a table in the far corner and wandering over to see them.

'How did you fair?' the druid asked, Nalia and Aerie looking up too, ready to hear her answer.

'His father banished him.'

'Oh, how awful,' Aerie cried, 'is he all right?'

Fritha just shrugged, wanting to forget about the last few hours, not relive them. She crossed to the bar, sliding through the press to wait her turn as the harassed-looking barmaid bustled back and forth, Fritha glancing up as a dark-haired man elbowed through to stand next to her. He noticed her glance to him, giving her a lopsided grin and she smiled wanly before returning her attention to the bar. She still felt his gaze on her though and turned back to find him staring, his eyes narrowed slightly as though he was grasping for a something.

'Er, don't I know you?'

Her guard was up instantly.

'I'm sorry, friend, but I think you're mistaken,' she replied with forced geniality while making to turn from the bar, her drink apparently forgotten, his voice halting her.

'Candlekeep. 1361. The Records Library.'

Fritha glanced back, eyeing him warily. He was tall, almost as tall as Anomen, but leaner with it and clad in a short brown coat, with trousers and boots of black. She looked up to his face, trying to place him. His skin was pale, his features sharp, and she noted, quite handsome.

But still, she recalled nothing, and dark blue eyes watched as her gaze moved up to his hair. It was black, making a pleasing contrast to his skin; cropped short at the back and getting longer towards the front, where it fell haphazardly across his brow. He smiled slightly.

'It used to be longer.'

Suddenly, it clicked.

'_Wren_?'

'I knew it!' he laughed, slapping the bar in triumph, 'Fritha!'

'Eriyn? How did you-? I mean, you recognise-?' Fritha babbled, painfully aware of how idiotic she must have sounded. Eriyn just grinned widely, something that could have looked rather predatory if it were not for kindness to his eyes.

'But it was years ago. We only met once!' she continued, finally pulling herself together.

'Indeed. But you made quite an impression.'

xxx

Eriyn wandered through yet _another_ library, his fingers lightly skimming the spines of the tomes as he slowly walked the aisles.  
It was no good, he was bored.

When he'd been chosen to come here with his Order he'd known it had been a great honour; he was just having a bit of trouble _feeling_ it. Hours sat at desks in the scriptorium with his fellow novices and Candlekeep's own novitiates, making copies of whatever they were brought by the elder brothers. As it was, some of the research they had been doing was actually quite interesting for once, it was his free time that was proving to be the problem.

When they'd told him that Candlekeep housed a wealth of knowledge, they hadn't mentioned it housed nothing else!

He had reached the window at the end of the aisle by now and he glanced out at the grey Tarsakh sky. A storm would likely break within the hour, but at least a walk outside couldn't be anymore dull than wandering around in there.  
Eriyn sighed, and had just turned to leave when a girl suddenly hurtled round the corner and ran straight in to him. She seemed very surprised to find him there and just stared a moment, eyes wide, before apologising quietly, pressing a finger to her lips to forestall any reply and dashing past him to duck into the narrow gap between the wall and the bookcase.

Eriyn was about to ask her what was wrong when a voice cut him off, the tone snapped and hissing of one trying to vent their anger without actually raising their voice.

'Fritha? Fritha! By Helm, you are only making it worse for yourself. Come out here this instant or I will be forced to go straight to Gorion!'

Suddenly a tall grey-haired man in robes to match appeared at the end of the aisle, glancing back and forth along the rows of shelves as he went, the man's eyes catching him as he passed. He too seemed surprised to find someone there, but recovered quickly.

'Have you seen a girl pass here?' he demanded, obviously deeming pleasantries a waste of time, 'about 'so' high, with red hair.'

Eriyn could sense the man was carefully watching his reaction and between a rude scholar and a young girl, it didn't take long for him to decide where his loyalties were.

'Yes, I've seen her,' he answered nonchalantly, fighting against a grin as he imagined the girl's horrified expression. 'She ran past the end of the aisle but a moment ago, an instant later I heard a door slam.'

He felt the man's eyes on him, regarding him with suspicion and Eriyn forced himself to meet his gaze.

'Very inconsiderate of her, considering this _is_ a library,' he added haughtily and the man smiled.

'Quite, quite. My thanks,' he nodded, before hurrying off again. Seconds later, the library door clicked shut and Eriyn heard the girl give a relieved sigh, turning back to find her stood behind him beaming.

'Thank you so much, that was wonderful! And what you said about me being inconsiderate- brilliant!' she enthused, laughing brightly and Eriyn smiled. She was younger than him, probably no older than fourteen summers, but very pretty, with bright dark eyes and a frizzy mane of copper hair.

'Anyway,' she continued briskly with a bow, brushing back the chaos of curls that instantly fell into her eyes, 'I am Fritha and I am in your debt.'

Eriyn grinned at her sudden change from friendly to formal and continued in the same vein, dipping a bow of his own.  
'Well, I am Eriyn, and there is no debt.'

'Eriyn…' she repeated absently to herself, 'how pretty.'

'So my mother seemed to think,' he replied trying to sound sullen, but feeling more amused by her strangely open nature. 'It means 'little bird',' he added conversationally, causing her to smile broadly.

'Well, that's convenient, as it sounds a bit like _wren_,' she laughed, her eyes sparkling. 'You don't look much like a wren though… More a crow, I think,' she decided with a smile, considering the long black hair that had been tied back and tidied into the hood of his robes.

'So, you're here with the Order of the First then?' Fritha continued with a nod to his chest and he glanced down to the Old Draconic character for "one" that had been embroidered there, his monastery's emblem. Eriyn nodded.

'Yes, who are you here with?' he asked, her habit unusual compared to the plain green robes of his Order, the girl wearing a long-sleeved smock the colour of buttermilk over a pair of leaf green trousers, a wide sash of a similar colour tied just under her bust and keeping the voluminous cut of the dress in check.

The girl just looked faintly bemused though, giving him a smile as she answered, 'Me? I live here.'

'Live here,' he repeated, just as surprised, 'I didn't think they allowed anyone but the monks and lay brothers to stay in Candlekeep permanently.'

Fritha shrugged, seemingly unconcerned by this detail, absently playing with the tails of her sash.  
'They don't usually. My father is one of the sages so they let Imoen, my friend, and I live here as well.' She smiled brightly. 'So how are you finding it so far?'

'Very interesting,' he lied, 'I am sure the trip has been most beneficial for the Order.'

'Oh, you enjoy spending all your time copying from tomes?' she questioned with a sly smile and he wondered if any of the grey cowled novices who had joined them in their scribing had ever been her. 'Anyway, aren't you a little young to be a monk?'

Eriyn shook his head.

'I'm not one, not yet anyway. I'm a ward of the monastery. My parents died when I was young in a plague that killed many in our village.'

'Oh, I'm sorry,' she said with sincerity and he smiled.

'Don't be, it was long ago. The local temple could not take all those orphaned, so I was sent to the Order for my education.'

Fritha nodded, smiling though there was a new gravity to her manner.

'I understand. My father, Gorion, isn't really my father. My mother died in childbirth and he took me in. But your sect is called the Order of the First,' she continued, brightening, 'the first what?'

'The first word actually,' he answered, surprised she had even thought about it. 'Long ago they believed that there was one word that created all the universe. They spent centuries researching the creation theories of different ancient cultures, trying to find out more about it. It was believed all things stemmed from it and if used correctly it could remake the world. These theories evolved and changed and now the Order works towards the collection and preservation of ancient knowledge through teaching it to others and preserving books, artefacts and other sources of ancient learning.'

He sighed gently to himself, glancing again to the window and the grey sky beyond.

'I've been with them for sixteen years, another one and it will be time to take my vows…' _or leave _his mind added silently and he felt a familiar uncertainty settle in his stomach.

'You aren't sure about it, are you,' broke a voice through his thoughts and he glanced up to see the girl giving him a measured looked that made her seem suddenly older. He considered denying it, but finally nodded.

'How could you tell?'

She smiled gently and something just under his stomach gave a jolt.

'All the time you were talking of them, it was "they" not "we".'

Eriyn sighed again, hearing the truth of it; the longer he spent at the Order, the less he felt a part of it.

'It is not that I do not enjoy my life there, the monastery is my home. And I have learnt much within its walls. The Order does not just collect and preserve books, but also works in the protection of ancient sites of knowledge, so all novices must be skilled in the martial arts as well as the restoration of ancient artefacts,' he continued, his voice casual enough, but he could not help but glance slyly to the girl, feeling almost embarrassed by his sudden desire to impress her, 'and, of course, the study of ancient languages. For instance, Aragrakh-'

'Oh, I've been studying that!' she cried, seemingly pleased to have found some common ground, 'and Netherese and Thorass and oh, have you seen the latest translations of the Darvilt Letters from the original Loross in the Peers library? I helped with those, well the easier bits anyway- what is it?' she asked as Eriyn began to laugh, amused both at her enthusiasm and his rather feeble attempt to dazzle her with his comparatively shallow knowledge of the subject.

'Nothing, you just sound like old Brother Aldier, the Master of Languages, when he begins to talk about his latest work.'

Fritha pulled a face, clearly finding this an unfavourable comparison, but Eriyn just smiled, dropping his chin slightly as he admitted, 'I suppose I'm not quite as scholarly as I might have been pleased to make out. To be honest, I think the only reason I was brought on this trip was because I took to the martial aspects of our teaching more readily than most and the journey is long and hazardous all the way from Waterdeep.'

'Well, that's nothing to be ashamed of,' Fritha assured him with a warm smile, 'I know most of the people around here would disagree with me, but there is more to life than academic knowledge and no one can be good at everything.'

'I do find it all interesting to a point,' he said earnestly, wanting her to understand his frustration, 'but I want my knowledge to be learnt _for _something, not just for the sake of learning it. I've been studying for sixteen years now, I just want to _do_ something with what I've learnt, anything!'

Fritha nodded, sending him a sympathetic smile.

'Like what though? I mean there must be some things you like more than others.'

He shrugged and sighed tiredly

'I don't know. It sounds foolish, but I know of so little outside my lessons; the Order deem so much of the world as unworthy of study.'

Fritha tutted, shaking her head with disapproval and raising her hand as she intoned a passage he recognised as the doctrine of Oghma.

'_Look ye not upon any learning or skill with distain; all knowledge has its value._ Me, I like learning languages and sewing and studying maps and dancing,' she listed quickly, finishing with a slight arabesque and a grin.

'_Dancing_?' Eriyn laughed and the girl tried to look affronted though it was quite difficult when she was clearly giggling as well. 'You want to become a dancer?'

'Oh, no,' she refuted genially, 'I don't enjoy it half as much when I can't make mistakes.'

Eriyn laughed.

'So what will you become?' he asked and the girl shrugged mildly.

'I don't know. A seamstress, a teacher, a cartographer-'

'Perhaps a translator?' he supplied innocently and she stuck her tongue out at him, though she soon joined him in good-natured laughter, 'you know I really would like to see the new Darvilt translations -at least the passages you did,' he added quite honestly. She grinned, though her cheeks looked a touch pinker at that and he smiled too as another jolt tremoured through his stomach.

'All right,' she agreed, still looking rather pleased, 'but not just yet, I need to stay in here until I'm sure it's safe to wander about the keep.'

'Ah, yes, your irate pursuer,' Eriyn smiled, remembering the happy chance that had brought them together in the first place, 'who was he?'

'Oh, Father Whelan,' Fritha groaned though her smile lingered, 'he's always in a snit with me about something. I'm supposed to be cleaning the Helmite shrine this afternoon, but he didn't specify a time for me to begin and I'm staying out of his way until after dinner because I overheard two of the altar boys talking and he plans to keep me there until sunset come what may.' She snorted crossly. 'There's no way it will take four hours to clean the place, he just wants to use the time to lecture me on what a horror I am.'

'But why do you have to clean the shrine in the first place?' Eriyn questioned and she sent him a mischievous grin.

'Because I defiled it.'

'_Defiled_ it?' he repeated, a little worried at the implications, but Fritha just laughed.

'Oh, only in his words,' she dismissed airily. 'Imoen and I were in there yesterday evening, delivering some books Whelan had had brought up from the archives. He wasn't about though and his office was locked so we were just messing about as we were waiting for him. Well,' she continued, face flushed and voice wavering as she fought against her laughter, 'Imoen had just splashed me with water from the font and I was screaming "it burns, it burns" just as Whelan walked in. He was so _cross_!'

Eriyn began to laugh, as much at her own clear amusement as his own, their laughter echoing about the high vaulted ceiling and probably the most noise the library had heard since it was built.

'What's this?' snapped a voice from the end of the aisle, instantly silencing the pair. An old man in grey robes stood there, a gnarled staff in his hand and a frustrated look on his face. 'This is a library, you know! Fritha!' he barked, turning towards the girl, 'I should have guessed.' He smiled maliciously. 'Gorion is looking for you.'

Eriyn watched as her face fell. She risked a glance to him, giving him a half-smile and mouthing 'bye, Wren', before hurrying past the man and disappearing round the corner. He suppressed a grin when seconds later the library shook as the door was given an almighty slam. The old man shook his head, muttering something about 'uncontrollable' before turning back to him.

'And as for you, I am aware you are a guest here, but the rules still apply. I suggest you remember that in future.'

With that the man left, Eriyn scowling at his retreating form before turning back to the window. It had just started to rain.

xxx

'You know, I looked for you that evening, the next day as well. In fact, I kept an eye out for you until the Order left four days later,' continued Eriyn, a hint of reproach creeping in to his voice as he leant causally against the bar to wait for his drink.

'I tried to see you too, but when Gorion, my father, found out I'd been talking with you he _asked_ that I stay away from then on. What was it he said?' Fritha wondered aloud, smiling at the memory of it. 'I do not think that any influence you can have on his behaviour will do him any favours once he returns to his monastery.'

Eriyn grinned.

'So you just gave up?'

'Gods, no!' she laughed, nodding her thanks to the barmaid as she received her drink, 'but it was a lot harder to get near you with half of Candlekeep watching me. In case you didn't notice, I wasn't exactly popular with some of the residents. It was in Candlekeep I discovered my first leaf of world wisdom.'

'Which was?'

Fritha swallowed a mouthful of wine to send him a wry grin.

'No-one bears a grudge like a sage.'

Eriyn laughed heartily, and Fritha felt warmed. Meeting him here like this, it was kind of like having a little bit of home back with her.

She smiled. 'Would you like to meet my friends?'

He agreed readily and she led him back to their table to introduce him to the three there, the druid looking up with clear interest, while the two girls looked no less than astounded at who she had arrived with.

'Er, everyone, this is Eriyn, an old friend of mine. Wren, this is Jaheira, Aerie and Nalia.'

Eriyn smiled. 'Nice to meet you all.'

Jaheira gave him a polite nod while the girls reached up to tentatively shake the hand he proffered, both looking a bit pink.

'So,' he began, turning back to her as they took their seats, 'what was that whole "sorry, friend, but you don't know me," cant before?'

'Er,' Fritha began, feeling the heat rising in her stomach while the others turned quickly to their drinks and Eriyn sent her a sympathetic look.

'Ah, I understand, too many drunken declarations of love, eh?' he laughed.

Fritha smiled weakly. 'Something like that, yes.'

'So, how do you know Fritha?' asked Nalia, quickly changing the subject and Fritha shot her a grateful look.

Eriyn smiled, finishing a mouthful to answer her.

'Can you believe we met in Candlekeep? I was sent to a monastery for my education and we spent a tenday within the library's walls where I was lucky enough to make your friend's acquaintance,' he finished, raising his cup in salute to the girl in question and Fritha grinned.

'So you live in Athkatla then?' asked Aerie.

'No, no, I'm first mate on a trading vessel, the Calistoriaus. We just docked here this morning.'

'You're a _sailor_?' came Nalia, looking almost scandalised.

'Indeed I am,' he laughed, seemingly amused by her reaction. 'We travel along the west coast from Chult to The North and sometimes across to the Moonshaes too, taking everything from furs and ores to pearls and spices. It is a mainly peaceful life that can become perilous in a beat of your heart -but am sure it pales in to comparison in what you would face,' he finished, seeming to realise they were all adventurers of a sort and looking a touch reluctant to continue with talk of his livelihood.

But Nalia and Aerie questioned him without respite, asking him where he'd travelled and what he'd seen and done, the man entertaining them with a few stories of his travels, which were far from mundane, the girls telling him a little of their own exploits, although Fritha was glad to see the pair avoided their more extraordinary adventures.

'Well,' sighed Jaheira at last, finishing her drink and rising from her chair, 'pleasant though this is, I'm afraid there is something requiring my attention.'

'Oh, yes, _that_,' said Nalia quickly, ignoring Jaheira's puzzled frown and downing an almost full cup of wine, 'I'll help too. Are you coming, Aerie?'

The elf glanced up with an absent look. 'Hmm?'

Nalia sent her a meaningful glare. 'I said are you _coming_ to help Jaheira?'

'Help with what?'

'Oh, come on!' she snapped, standing to drag the girl with her, the beginning of their argument lost as they moved off through the press of tables. Fritha felt her stomach groan, the desire to just slide under the table and hide burning within her; she was going to _kill _those two later.

'Well, that couldn't have been more embarrassing. I'm sorry about them,' she apologised, but Eriyn just laughed.

'Ha! What for? Nice group of girls, very nice. Have you travelled with them long?'

'With Jaheira for almost a year now, we met Nalia and Aerie about a month ago.'

'And now the four of you are wandering about the Realms in search of adventure?'

Fritha gave a dry laugh.

'Ha! Try gold and there are actually seven of us. Minsc, who I've know almost as long as Jaheira, Haer'Dalis, who I imagine will be about later if only to see Aerie and Anomen, though he has retired for the evening now. He has just found out his sister has died,' she shook her head sadly, 'it is a hard time for him.'

Eriyn gave an understanding nod.

'Ah, I am sorry for his loss. But,' he continued after a moment, 'you mentioned something about gold; don't tell me that sweet little girl I met all those years ago has turned ruthless merc.'

Fritha snorted; even the most generous soul would have had a hard time describing her younger self as 'sweet'.

'I'm afraid so, though my reason is more altruistic than most's. Do you recall I had a friend at Candlekeep, Imoen?' He nodded and Fritha continued with a sigh, 'she was taken, well, almost a month ago now, arrested by the Cowled Wizards for a magical infraction within city. Enough gold will secure the location of where they are holding her and help with her rescue.'

Eriyn whistled through his teeth.

'You're right, that is a good reason. Do you have any idea of where she could be?'

Fritha shrugged.

'At an asylum for the magically unstable called Spellhold, but no one seems to know where it actually is. I don't suppose you've heard of it, have you?' she added hopefully, but the man shook his head.

'Sorry, I haven't, but I'll be sure to keep an ear out from now on. But what have you been doing with yourself since I last saw you?'

'Well, I only left Candlekeep in the spring,' she admitted with a smile at his surprised expression, 'when the iron crisis was at its height.'

'Really? I can hardly believe that old place contained you for so long. You were so full of life even then, I doubted you'd make it to sixteen before striking out on your own.' He smiled slightly, something about his eyes softening. 'Even though you seemed dead set against it, I always had an idea that you would become a dancer.'

Fritha laughed brightly.

'Hah, you're closer than you think. About four years after you left I got all sulky and despondent as teenagers are wont to do. I still had no idea what I wanted to do and even then I only wanted to study when _I_ wanted to study; I could have drifted on like that indefinitely. Gorion had to make me choose a profession in the end, though I'm glad of it now, and I came as near enough to a bard as one can without actually being brave enough to sing or dance or recite for an audience of any more than two. But I do own the local theatre here, can you believe?'

'The local theatre? How on Toril did you get hold of that?'

'Er, well,' she began hesitantly, unsure of how much she wanted him to know. It was so nice just being treated like a normal girl for once. 'We helped the previous owners and when they had to leave Athkatla they left me the deed,' she finished vaguely and Eriyn nodded, seeming to realise he'd only had half a tale and the pair went quietly back to their drinks, a silence descending between them, Fritha desperately searching for something to say, but the man beat her to it.

'So, why did you finally leave Candlekeep?' he questioned genially and Fritha bit back a sigh. Did everything in her life relate to something morose? She shrugged slightly.

'I didn't really, well not of my own volition anyway.'

'They kicked you out?'

'Not exactly. I left with Gorion the first time, but he was killed by bandits.'

'Oh, I'm sorry,' he said quickly.

'Don't be, it was long ago,' she replied in an echo of himself years before and they shared a smile as she continued. 'Imoen and I wandered northwards, met Jaheira among others, before finally making it back to the Keep. And the second time…'

_Yes, go on, "I found out I was a Bhaalspawn and then I was arrested for murder."_

Fritha swallowed.

'Well, let's just say something really bad happened and my reputation as resident troublemaker did me no favours when all signs began to point to me. It all got sorted out eventually, but I don't think I'll be welcome back there anytime soon. But what about you?' she continued with a bright smile, glad to change the subject. 'Last time I saw you, you were a ward of that monastery of yours, the Order of the First.'

Eriyn nodded and smiled, seemingly pleased she had remembered.

'Yes, and I left there about a year after meeting you, and with no more idea of what I wanted from life than I had when we had spoken. I wandered about the north for some years, joined a mercenary group who were escorting caravans to the Silver Marches; served a year or so as junior curator at a library within the city, but nothing seemed to fit me, or at least, _I_ did not seem to fit anywhere. I wasn't actually planning to stay when I first boarded the Calistoriaus. I had agreed to take a position teaching history and some more martial skills to the young sons of a noble family in Calimport, but current funds were low and the captain agreed to let me work for my passage. We were heavy with cargo and we must have stopped in every port on our way south, but it was not just seeing new places, even the travelling held something for me.'

His smile gained a wistful air and Fritha felt quite moved as his eyes gazed out at something she could not see. 'The feel of being at sea, the freedom of it, it somehow filled me with serenity at the same time as stirring my heart. I realised those few weeks were the best of my life, and when we docked in Calimport I asked to stay on. What?' he questioned suddenly as he glanced back to find her grinning.

'Gods, we'll make a poet of you yet!' she laughed and he scowled at her, clearly trying to hide a grin of his own. 'Seriously, come down to the theatre tomorrow, I'm sure we can find a part for you.'

'Ah, I would like nothing more than to oblige,' he smiled and for just a moment he looked at though he meant it too, 'but I'm afraid we set sail to Waterdeep first thing tomorrow.'

'You docked today and leave tomorrow,' she confirmed before asking, 'well, why are you here then? In the Coronet, I mean. Surely there are plenty of taverns on the quays.'

Eriyn laughed wryly.

'That's true enough, but the rest of my ship's had the same idea and I just spent a good month at sea with them. Don't get me wrong, you'll not find finer crewmates anywhere, but I just fancied a quiet evening on my own.'

'Oh,' said Fritha, wondering if that was subtle hint for her to leave, 'well, I mean if you just want to be alone…'

But Eriyn shook his head, smiling.

'Now you hardly count as company.'

Fritha gave him a disgruntled look that was very much at odds with the warmth in her stomach.  
'Oh cheers, mate.'

But it seemed he could tell she was joking, the man laughing and she couldn't help but join him, the laughter fading to leave another silence between them though with none of the awkwardness of before. Fritha took a long draft of her wine, glancing up to find him watching, his expression not far from the one he had worn when he had spoken of the sea.

'What is it?'

He smiled suddenly and Fritha felt something tremble in her stomach.

'I just can't believe I am seeing you again after so long; you haven't changed a bit, you know.'

Fritha smiled; she sincerely doubted it, but it was a nice thought.

'Really? I was sure I'd grown at least an inch taller.'

They laughed at that and the rest of the afternoon seemed to pass very quickly, the pair taking dinner together and telling stories, Eriyn laughing heartily as she told him how the chores she had been hiding from on the day they met had finally played out. How after a half-hearted reprimand from her father, she had been sent down to the shrine as planned. Whelan had been there waiting for her and clearly ready to scold and she had quickly begun her task, spending the entire four hours until sunset singing herself hoarse with Helmite prayer-songs as she cleaned in an attempt to forestall her lecture, the priest unwilling to interrupt her hymns.

The sun was well set by now, the lamplight casting a glow over the inn that seemed to mirror the warmth inside her, Fritha feeling almost light-headed. She had blamed it on the wine at first, but they had switched to tea after they had eaten and the joyful giddiness still remained bubbling in her stomach, Fritha giggling merrily as the man opposite continued his latest tale.

'So there we are, one crate broken and about twenty vials of the _strongest _smelling perfume you could ever imagine in shards underneath it. And we're all scrabbling through it, trying to secure the rest of the crates before the storm worsens. But the smell! I'm sure it would have been fine as it was meant to be used, a few drops added to a bath or the like, but it was so strong! This heavy smell of-of rotting flowers billowing about the hull. Even the most hardened sailors among us were reaching for their hats on that voyage. We had the cabin boys scrubbing at the hold for hours, but it seemed to have sunk into the very wood. And that wasn't all it sunk into either. The taverns around docklands are rarely the most civilised of places whichever city you're at and then us lot walk in smelling like the finest concubines Calimshan has to offer…' he shook his head with a grin, 'gods, that was a long voyage.'

Fritha was still laughing even after he finished his story and he just watched her as she tried to compose herself, fanning a hand over her flushed face, sure she looked pretty frightful and not much caring.

'I can just see you lot,' she grinned, 'skulking round the quays all smelling like powered dandies. Ah, I've gone all warm, 'she continued with a laugh, pressing cool hands to her burning cheeks, 'am I clashing with my hair?'

'Not at all,' he lied, laughing gently and shaking his head, his gaze soft. 'Ah, when you smile your eyes could steal a sailor from the sea.'

'By Sune! How many times have you used _that_ line?' Fritha laughed, her cheeks still glowing. 'Oh, I can just see you now, sailing the Sword Coast, leaving bar tabs and broken hearts in every port.'

Eriyn pretended to look appalled at this.

'How could-!' he started before shaking his head sadly, 'you wound me, my lady.'

Fritha snorted, giggling in to her cup as he continued with this caricature of gallantry. 'I speak to you of what is in my heart and all you can do is laugh.'

'Oh, stop it!' Fritha cried, giving him a playful shove. But with speed that belied the amount of ale he'd had, he caught her hand and holding it in both of his, he gravely held her gaze.

'Your eyes are very pretty and let no one tell you otherwise.'

Fritha smiled, an odd mix of pleased and embarrassed, her stomach lurching pleasantly, before Eriyn released her and turned quietly back to his drink, a silence falling between.

xxx

'Oh, my goodness!' breathed Aerie, looking like she was going to faint with sheer happiness. 'Did you see that?' she squealed, squirming in her chair, her eyes still fixed on the couple.

'Yes, yes, we saw it. Calm down, girl,' Jaheira answered her, trying to sound dismissive, but unable to quite stifle a smile as she watched the dark-haired man turn shyly away from her friend.

'Yes, well…' the elf continued, calming slightly and smoothing her skirts.

'Quite. I mean, he is rather…' agreed Nalia, a little breathless.

'Handsome,' finished the elf decisively.

'And those eyes!'

'And his hair!'

'So charming.'

'And polite.'

'And witty too, if Fritha's reaction is anything to go by,' added Jaheira dryly, interrupting the two's fervent appraisal of the man as laughter once again erupted from the table opposite.

'Such praise, ladies,' came a familiar voice behind them and the three turned to take in the grinning face of the tiefling. 'Should this sparrow's ears be burning?'

Jaheira's snort said it all. Haer'Dalis just laughed though, seemingly not offended, turning to follow the women's gaze to the table behind him.

'What is this? Our leader has found another and dare I say _eager _adherent? Ha, good! The raven always looks her fairest when she is smiling. Who is the fortunate bird?'

'His name is Eriyn-' began Jaheira before Aerie rather excitedly cut in.

'But Fritha calls him Wren. They met years ago when he visited Candlekeep. He's a sailor now though.'

'The wren is a gull?'

'Yes, you should hear his stories,' said Nalia just as animatedly, 'it was his crew that finally managed to capture the pirate captain Dervil Sharkshide when their ship came under attack a year ago.'

'Oh, and he once saw a leviathan just west of the Moonshaes!' added Aerie and the girls beamed at each other.

Haer'Dalis frowned slightly.

'Ah, well, such things may impress one who has yet to see the wonders of the planes… Have you heard tell of those twisted beasts, the astral dreadnoughts, my birds? They dwell in the shimmering void of the astral plane, gliding ever onward in their silent search for the souls of unwary travellers…'

The girls did not seemed to hear him.

'And when Murann fell to the Sythillisian Armies,' continued Nalia, 'they helped as many as they could escape the city before pirates secured the harbour.'

'Has this sparrow yet recounted for you the time the Sigil troupe-?'

'Fritha!' cut in Aerie as the pair opposite both rose, Eriyn disappearing into the crowds as Fritha wandered over to join them. 'He- he's not leaving is he?'

Fritha glanced about the table of eager faces before answering, seemingly bemused by their interest.  
'Er, no, he's just gone to get some more drinks and I was going to go and check on Anomen; has he eaten do you know?'

'There is no need for that,' said Jaheira firmly, 'I visited him myself but an hour ago. He says he is fine, but would rather be alone.'

Fritha looked uncertain a moment, sending a contemplative glance to the stairs before she shrugged.  
'Well, if you're sure…You lot should come and sit with us though, Wren was just telling me the funniest story about the time they took a cargo of perfumes and incense from Almraiven up to Baldur's Gate.'

'Yes, we could tell,' said Jaheira dryly. The girl flushed a becoming shade of pink and mouthed something very rude at her.

'Oh, yes, let's join them,' cried Aerie earnestly, but Jaheira shook her head.

'No, I am retiring soon. You go if you wish.'

The elf sent the girl next to her a pleading look. 'Nalia?'

But the girl yawned and shook her head as well, giving Fritha the slightest wink that made her go even pinker. Aerie laughed, glancing to the man at her side.

'Well, you'll come, won't you, Haer'Dalis?'

The bard looked less than enthusiastic though.

'If you truly wish it, my dove; this sparrow could never deny you. But the rain has finally relented, I had a vain hope we could walk out.'

Aerie looked torn a moment though she eventually smiled and nodded.

'Yes, I suppose that would be nice.'

Fritha shrugged, sending a wave to the man who had just arrived back the table behind them.

'Well, suit yourselves. Enjoy your walk, goodnight you two.'

xxx

Fritha glanced up from her cup, the tavern about her empty save for the man opposite, Eriyn smiling at her as he took another drink of tea, the pot between them casting two shadows, the lamps of the tavern slowly being made redundant by the windows next to them as the dawn approached.

They had been talking all night and she should be tired, but for some reason she was not. A silence had fallen between them now, easy and comfortable and Fritha let her attention drift over the pitted grain of the table, wishing absently she could study her companion as intently.

'Well,' Eriyn sighed at last, his reluctance evident as he rose from his chair and emptied his cup, 'I should really be going, we're sailing with the dawn…' He glanced back to her, stopped halfway into his coat with a contemplative look in his eyes, 'would you like to see my ship?'

Fritha nodded and he grinned, the pair leaving the inn together.

Outside, the dawn sky was pale and clear after the rains and seemed to be lit with its own inner light, their voices ringing through the deserted streets, the world wholly theirs as they made their way to the docks.

They had arrived by now, passing under the arches of the customs house and Fritha could see a beautiful clipper in the harbour illuminated by the rising sun, the crew hurrying about the quay before her, loading crates and preparing for launch.

'Come on,' Eriyn smiled, but Fritha made no move, suddenly shy of herself.

'No, I'll just be in the way.'

'As you will,' he sighed, eyes downcast and trying to hide his grin, 'but you are cursing me to a voyage of ridicule, for none of them will believe I spent my evening with the prettiest girl in Athkatla.'

They both laughed at that and she shoved his arm gently; more of a touch than a push, though he did not seem to mind the difference. Their laughter had faded by now and silence hung about them, a slight awkwardness creeping in with each moment.

'Well…'

'Yes, you'd better…'

'Yeah…'

He started forward, arms wide as though to embrace her just as she stepped up to shake hands, and they did a merry dance between to two gestures, things becoming increasingly uncomfortable before they both laughed and came together to embrace firmly, Eriyn patting her back in a friendly fashion.

'Safe journey, Wren.'

'You too, Fritha.'

They parted and she watched him jog down to meet the crew, looking very alive as he left the shade of the customs house and sunlight poured over him. Fritha slipped back into the gloom of the tunnel, suddenly unwilling to let him catch her watching, and leant back against the cracked plaster, the cold seeping through the back of her tunic.

Her heart felt overly large in her chest and she couldn't stop smiling, the sudden desire to shout and sing pounding within her.

_You're a fool_

'I don't care!' she cried, laughing, and with a shriek she sprang up and was flying from the tunnel, her footsteps echoing along the empty streets as she ran back to the inn.


	30. A many splendored thing

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

-Blackcross & Taylor

**A many-splendored thing**

Anomen stood at the window, gazing out at the streets as dawn crept slowly over the rooftops. He sighed, a dull throbbing in his temples, his eyes hot through lack of sleep. But it was no good; exhausted though he was, every time he closed his eyes her face swam into view. Moira, his sister; so young and alive in his mind, the idea that she could be gone seemed almost impossible.

He had cried at first, but not as much as he thought he would have, the rest of the night spent just laid upon his bed, steeped in his misery while the room darkened about him. But even that emotion was lost to him now, the dawn finding his sorrow buried under a weight of guilt. He should have been there to protect his sister, not just from her killer, but from her life at that rotting old house.

Anomen felt his fists clench as he thought back to his father, the man taking a twisted pleasure in telling him how he had been forced to sell his mother's possessions and then the furniture to keep the creditors at bay, though Anomen noted the vile man had still been kept in drink.

_Why _hadn't Moira told him the family was in trouble? He could have been able to help if only he'd known.

_Perhaps she would have told you if you'd been there to tell_, a voice behind his eyes muttered cruelly and for a moment his shame was almost crushing. He had been meaning to visit her for so long, but he had never managed to find the time…  
What would she think of him now, just stood idle while her killer roamed free? Perhaps his father had been right to banish him…

_But what if Saerk is innocent? _challenged a voice that sounded remarkably like Fritha's and he sighed. The girl had been right. Awful though the situation was, it was the best course and he should not doubt it. Anomen tiredly closed his eyes; it was time for sleep.

He did not know what made him glance to the window again. Perhaps some noise or movement on the edge of his senses. He only knew that he was suddenly watching Fritha stroll along the street beneath him, the girl giggling lightly as she held out her scabbard to chime against the nearby railings before she suddenly broke into a run, charging the rest of the way to scatter a flock of drinking birds in a cloud of feathers, sending them skyward with her breathy laughter.

He moved to the door, unsure of his behaviour even as he acted, waiting until he heard her pass in the hall outside before throwing it open to make her start.

'Anomen!' she gasped, cheeks flushed and eyes still bright, thought they darkened slightly as they saw him, 'you frightened me.'

'Forgive me, my lady, but might I speak with you?'

She watched him a moment longer, eyes searching his face with a pained look before nodding once, wordlessly moving past him into the room The sharp morning air seemed to have clung to her, her aura of cold making his eyes seem all the hotter, and he moved to pour some water into the washstand and splash it across his face, unable to stand their gritty heat any longer.

'You are thinking on your sister,' came her voice behind him and he turned to take the cloth she proffered, his voice muffled as he dried his face.

'Yes… I cannot shake the feeling that there is more that should be done.'

'Well, we can investigate things if you believe we will find something the Watch missed,' she offered, her reluctance barely audible.

He shook his head though. It was a fool's errand to look for evidence that was not there and their time should be spent on the more pressing task of finding her friend, though it was kind of her to offer and he told her so.

'I just, I just find it so difficult to see what is right anymore…' he finished lamely, sinking on to the bed, his head in his hands.

'I don't think I can help you, Anomen,' Fritha sighed, sitting on the chair opposite, 'Helm should guide you here; you serve him, not me. I know how her death must weigh on you. You feel guilty; things you did, things you should have done. But in the end, none of it matters. Your sister will have known you cared for her and she cared for you as you were; a servant of Helm and the law.'

He glanced up to find her staring out of the window, though she heard him move and turned back to him gravely.

'You said before you knew of Helm's teachings… you were close to this priest in Candlekeep?'

'Anomen…' she sighed, looking apprehensive, 'we were not close in the way I may have led you to believe, our association more one of misbehaviour and chastisement, though I think we had a relationship of sorts… Or at least I _did_ believe so.'

She paused a moment, seeming to consider whether to continue, when she drew a breath and made her decision, eyes shifting back to the window as she spoke.

'I returned to Candlekeep only once since leaving with Gorion and when I departed that second time, it was not under the best of circumstances. While there, I was framed for murder and without trial was sentenced to hang, a judgement Father Whelan stood by. All our previous contact and the pain it clearly brought him could not sway him from the evidence against me and his chosen path: the service of his god, the service of the law.'

'You think he did not act correctly?'

Fritha smiled wryly, her gaze returning to him.

'I think _he_ thinks he acted correctly, even now, knowing I was innocent. Like I said, he was there to serve his god, not me.'

A silence fell between them, the seconds weighing on him as his mind went over and over all he _should _have done, on his failings as a brother, until he could not keep the feeling buried any longer, his voice choked with sorrow and guilt.

'I- I just miss her so much, I cannot believe she is gone. If only I had visited her, if she had told me…'

'Oh, Anomen,' Fritha said softly, her distress evident, the girl quickly moving to sit next to him, placing a hand lightly on his back and he could feel its cold through his tunic. 'You cannot do this, keep torturing yourself with what-ifs. Even if she had told you, what could you have done? You told me yourself Moira was devoted to your father's care; even if you found somewhere else for her to stay, do you think she would have left him under any circumstances?' Fritha sighed gently. 'I know it is hard and that you have regrets, but you must try to let them go.'

Anomen nodded and drew a deep breath, straightening slightly.  
'I- I know, I will try. And thank you, Fritha.'

She smiled weakly and he returned the gesture as best he could.

'But, you must forgive me, my lady, I keep you from your day.'

Fritha sighed and rose, clearly hearing her prompt to leave, her voice sounding suddenly old as she continued.  
'I am sorry if my words hold little comfort for you, at the end of the day they rarely do more. But a very wise woman once told me that as time passes, hearts heal and though it did not feel as though it would at the time, she was right.'

She patted his shoulder lightly and moved to the door.  
'Try to get some rest, Anomen.'

He attempted to answer her but the words would not come and he settled for a nod, the girl lingering uncertainly in the doorway to add, 'And- and if you ever need to talk to someone, you know where I am.'

xxx

Fritha returned to her room, feeling suddenly tired and more than ready for her bed, though it was only a few hours later when Jaheira woke her, the pair joining Nalia and Minsc in the common room for a very half-hearted attempt at breakfast, Fritha's stomach not appreciative of her late night.

'For the love of-' exclaimed Jaheira, glaring at the yoghurt Fritha had been listlessly stirring with her spoon, as though half hoping it would just gradually disappear through the attrition. 'Stop pushing it about your dish and actually eat something!'

'Yes, young Fritha,' Minsc warned genially, 'Boo says you must eat up if you are to become big and strong!'

Fritha smiled in spite of herself, though the yoghurt looked no more appealing for it.

'I don't mind breakfast,' she sighed, 'I'd just prefer it if I could have it later, for instance-

'Lunchtime,' finished Jaheira curtly and the three laughed as Aerie and Haer'Dalis joined the table. The couple had returned from their walk quite late the night before, coming to sit with her and Eriyn for a few minutes before retiring to leave them alone once more, something the elf seemed interested to discuss as she sat down opposite her.

'And what time did _you_ get to bed last night?' Aerie asked her with a knowing smile, the table all looking up with interest, their amusement apparent.

Fritha glanced up from her dish with a carefully nonchalant expression, mouth working furiously against a grin.  
'Just after you did.'

Aerie glanced to Nalia who smiled broadly as well.  
'Truly? You were not in your room when I got up this morning…'

Fritha flushed, about to tell them both to mind their own business when her stomach went cold; Anomen had appeared on the stairs opposite and was moving towards their table.

'I got up early and went to Mask's shrine,' she explained evenly. The girls looked uncomfortable, going wordlessly back to their food and Fritha felt her guilt rise. As lies went it was a mean one, for no one would question her now. But Eriyn was not something she could share then, the joy of it inappropriate in the face of Anomen's sorrow.

'Ah, Anomen,' began Haer'Dalis solemnly as he noticed the squire arrive at the table and Fritha realised it was the first time she had ever heard him use Anomen's name. 'I understand that words mean little at such times, but this sparrow offers his condolences, nonetheless.'

'Yes,' came Aerie next to him, 'I am so sorry for your loss, Anomen.'

On the other side of the table, Minsc nodded gravely.  
'Indeed, to lose family is a terrible thing… but we will honour your kin with blade and deeds!'

Anomen stared at them a moment in hard silence, before something about his face softened and he nodded once.  
'My- my thanks.'

'Would you like anything?' Fritha asked gently as he sat, putting down her spoon to serve him something while Nalia set a cup before him and poured his tea. 'Yoghurt, or some bread perhaps?'

He nodded vaguely and Fritha cut him a few slices, pushing the butter and honey towards him as she handed him his plate.

'We were just discussing our plans for the day,' she continued evenly; a lie, but one no one saw fit to correct her on.

The man swallowed a mouthful of tea, glancing up from his cup to answer her.  
'I have the intention to hold a small service for Moira at the temple of Helm, just for her friends and those who knew her best. If I could be excused my duties for the next couple of days while arrangements are made…'

'But, of course. I- I mean, whatever you wish, Anomen,' Fritha stuttered, feeling mortified that he had felt he had to ask, 'the rest of us merely have plans to look for work.'

He nodded once and dropped his attention back to his dish, Fritha turning miserably back to her own, her melancholy only heightened when she saw it still full of uneaten yoghurt. A silence seemed to descend upon the table from that moment on though, and she was glad when breakfast was finished, the group leaving the table as one to attend their various tasks about the city.

Anomen left promptly for the temple of Helm, she and Jaheira planning to head across the river to look at the bounties, while Nalia and Minsc returned to the goldsmiths' guild and leaving, in Jaheira's words, the _highly efficient_ pairing of Haer'Dalis and Aerie to ask about the temples.

Fritha watched Anomen walk down the street to be lost in the crowds before turning to the woman next her with a sigh and a tired smile.  
'Right, over to the Council Buildings then?

Jaheira nodded, falling into step with her as they set off for the bridge, the woman smirking slightly as she asked, 'So what time _did_ you get to bed last night?'

Fritha grinned.  
'Just after sun up.'

'Oh, Fritha!' Jaheira exclaimed, her amusement audible, 'And that "going to temple" nonsense?'

'I walked him back to the docks,' she confessed, really giggling now.

Embarrassed though Fritha was to admit it, she had not felt quite so smitten about anyone since Balduran's Isle, and it had been a slight source of worry for her, that the shock of what had occurred there had somehow removed the sensation from her for good. Her attraction to Haer'Dalis had been genuine enough, but still very calculated, influenced as much by practicality as her own feelings and she had wondered whether all other attachments from then on would be born of her mind rather than her heart.

Fritha glanced to the woman next to her, suddenly desperate to share her feelings with someone.

'I know it sounds stupid-'

'It usually does,' Jaheira interrupted dryly and Fritha grinned, continuing without pause.

'But I had been worried. Because the last time I met someone well,' she swallowed, her high-spirits flickering as she remembered the boy she had lost what felt like a lifetime ago. Jaheira seemed to understand though, nodding for her to continue. 'Well, I was worried that perhaps something inside me had changed and all regard from then on would be born _of_ the mind rather than borne _by_ the butterflies.'

'The _butterflies_,' repeated Jaheira incredulously and it had been worth telling the druid for her look alone.

'Yes, that feeling when you look at someone, when they speak just a few words to you, mild and ordinary, and suddenly there's that rush of warmth and a thousand butterflies are flitting about your stomach.'

Jaheira rolled her eyes but smiled all the same; there had always been something about Fritha's joy that was infectious.  
'And the butterflies were there last night were they?'

'Oh yes! Bloody swarms of them!' the girl cried with obvious delight, her smile fading slightly as she continued. 'Dear Eriyn, I shall likely never see him again… but the butterflies they linger still, fluttering lazily in my stomach, whispering to me… be wary, Fritha, for when you least expect it… We will _strike_! Bwa ha ha haaaa!' she finished, her manic laughter soon lost to warm giggling.

Jaheira laughed too, suddenly filled with such an overwhelming fondness for the girl that she could not help but throw an arm about her shoulders to give her an affectionate squeeze.  
'Oh girl, you will be the jewel of someone's eye one day.'

Fritha grinned.  
'Well, if you meet him before I do, send him Minsc's way; that man has _plans_ for him.'

xxx

The pair returned to the Coronet just after noon, though with nothing to show for their trip, the few bounties that were on display there unsuitable for a group of their size and they entered the tavern to find Nalia and Aerie already at a table. Haer'Dalis and Minsc were in the common room as well, but strangely not sat with them, the men stood together at the bar, though the reason for which soon became apparent as she and Jaheira approached the table, the girls so earnestly discussing 'her Wren' that it took them a moment to notice their arrival. Jaheira rolled her eyes and muttered something about putting her bag in her room before heading off towards the stairs, Fritha dumping her own bag and cloak under her chair as she sat.

'Hello, find anything?' she asked hopefully.

Both girls shook their heads and Fritha shrugged.  
'Neither did we. Oh, well, the day is young. Why are Minsc and Haer'Dalis at the bar?'

'Oh, they're just ordering some food,' dismissed Aerie and Fritha smirked slightly as her mind added '_still_'.

'Anyway, never mind them!' continued the elf keenly, 'what _really _happened with you and Eriyn last night? I assume you didn't go to temple this morning.'

Nalia nodded, frowning slightly.  
'And while we're on the subject, that was really rather mean of you! I felt awful when I thought I'd been teasing you about Eriyn and you'd been off praying for Imoen.'

'A necessary evil, I'm afraid,' said Fritha with a shrug, 'Anomen was _not _going to arrive at a table brim full with laughter. And as for Eriyn and I, we talked till the dawn, then I walked him back to the docks and he left. End of story.'

'You talked until the dawn?' confirmed Aerie looking a picture of bliss, 'oh, that's so romantic.'

'What did he say when you parted?' asked Nalia. Fritha gave a bemused frown.

'Er, bye?'

'Fritha!' the girls chorused.

'For the love of-' Fritha began tersely, her stomach feeling hot as she thought back to the tunnel of the customs house, the man stood before her in her mind, smiling gently. 'He said something like, "safe journey, Fritha." Or maybe I said that…' she considered; it was hard to recall with him looking at her so. 'Oh, I don't know,' she sighed eventually, 'what does it matter? He's gone now. I'll probably never see him again.'

Aerie sent her a pained look.  
'Oh Fritha, we're sorry… If you don't want to talk about it…'

Fritha frowned slightly.  
'Honestly, Aerie, it's hardly a tragedy worthy of the stage. I was only with him for an evening -which, yes, was _very_ nice, but now he's gone, as we all knew he would, and I am fine.' She laughed slightly at their unconvinced expressions. 'Honestly, it's all right.'

But this clearly was the wrong thing to say and after a few moments more of the girls' furious questioning, Fritha decided to 'see where the maid had got to' and join the men at the bar.

'Hello, you two,' she greeted, the pair glancing up at her arrival, Minsc smiling broadly.

'Ah, young Fritha! You have a glorious adventure to lead us on, yes?'

'Sorry, not yet. Why are you two hiding up here anyway?'

Minsc shook his head, frowning slightly.

'The girls were acting a little strangely. And so shrill! To hear them made Boo's ears hurt.'

Fritha smiled, glancing to the hamster in question, Boo scurrying about the counter before them, man serving behind it looking as though he would have told anyone but Minsc to remove the creature.

'So, are they hurting your ears too?' she asked the man on the other side of her as Minsc turned his attention to his little friend, Haer'Dalis looking up from his drink with a sullen frown.

'Aye, as well you may have guessed, my raven. All evening I wooed my dove, with verse enough to soften a succubus's callous heart, and all she can talk of today is your sea-faring _wren_!' The tiefling sighed and glumly took another drink. 'No sparrow should have to listen to his bird singing another man's tune.'

'Oh, quit your jealousy, bard,' she laughed, 'the only songs I _ever_ hear Aerie singing are in the key of _H_. She probably just doesn't want you to know how keen she is on you.' Fritha nodded wisely. 'Girls are like that. _And_, I'll warrant the only reason she is all excited about Eriyn is because he and I supposedly have this tragic hopeless love thing going on, and Aerie is the sort of girl who enjoys romance for romance's sake.'

Haer'Dalis frowned, seeming to consider her words a moment before a smile lit his eyes.

'Was it ever so? Ah, my raven, forgive this foolish bard his envy. Aerie has taken a far stronger hold of my heart than I would have thought possible and I cannot help but lose myself to it while I have the chance.' He sighed dramatically. 'Though entropy affects even love, I will deeply mourn the end of this when it comes.'

Fritha smiled, glad to hear the bard's feelings in this were as strong as Aerie's, even if his philosophy was less than romantic.

'Yes, but look on the bright side,' said the girl with a smirk, 'you might die before that happens.'

'_And_,' Haer'Dalis continued as though she had not spoken, 'though such things are doomed to end, I am sorry, at least for your sake, that the wren has flown. You made a fine pair.'

Fritha shrugged.

'As soon as I met him, I knew he was leaving, so it seems a little silly to get upset about it. I mean, I wasn't unhappy before he came, why should I be now he has gone?'

Haer'Dalis shook his head with a sigh.

'Ah, the ever-pragmatic raven; do you never tire of being sensible?'

Fritha grinned.

'Watch your tongue, bard, I've _killed_ men for lesser insults. Besides, perhaps I shall see him again in another eight years or so. Stranger things have happened,' she gave a bark of laughter, 'and to me as well!'

Haer'Dalis seemed considerably cheered after this and they spoke a few moments more until the maid finally brought Fritha's drink and she moved back the table. The conversation had returned to more familiar topics in her absence, the elf recounting her evening with the bard and enjoying the tale far more than her audience was by the look of Nalia.

Fritha smiled. How on Toril could the bard doubt Aerie's affections? The girl never shut up about him!

'We walked through the park just a few streets from the Council Buildings and on the way back we stopped on the bridge and watched the moon.' The elf sighed, clearly reliving some private moment behind her eyes and the girls shared a smirk. 'He said he would trade all of Sigil for my smile.'

Fritha frowned slightly. For Haer'Dalis, Sigil was the centre of the multiverse, she doubted he'd willingly swap the city for _anything_. But perhaps Aerie knew that too, Fritha considered practically; the elf could just be pleased he'd thought to say it, true or not.

'Then we practised some more on our play; he said I possessed a talent for acting that many an actress he'd known would envy. I think he was exaggerating, but it was so nice of him to say…' Aerie continued, smiling.

Nalia sighed audibly and the elf glanced back to them, blushing slightly and looking apologetic, though her smile remained.  
'Oh, I'm sorry, I don't mean to go on. It's just as though my head is filled with him. And when we're together… oh I just can't describe it.'

'Eeeeeee,' cried Fritha shrilly before calmly taking another drink of tea.

The girls looked to each other, seemingly nonplussed, Aerie turning back to venture, 'Ah, sorry?'

Fritha swallowed her mouthful and smiled.  
'That's how I'd describe it, that first rush of love. It's like "Eeeeeee".'

Nalia and Aerie paused a moment before they both began to nod slowly.

'Yes, I suppose that would be close,' agreed Aerie, sending her a contemplative look, 'but, that sounds like quite an accurate description for someone who's never been in love…'

Fritha felt her face grow hot.

'I- I read it in a book, of course,' she dismissed hastily, but Nalia looked sceptical.

'You read "Eeeeeee" in a book?'

'Well, I'm paraphrasing!' Fritha laughed, lightly slapping her arm and more than ready to turn the conversation away from her.

'So Aerie, you like Haer'Dalis then,' she confirmed with what had to be the _weakest _attempt at redirection ever, but the elf just sighed wistfully and nodded.

'It's all so soon, but- but I can't help thinking he might be the one.'

'The one what?' questioned Fritha artlessly and Nalia gave a rather indelicate snort into her cup, Aerie frowning as she explained.

'The one person in all the planes created solely to be with you.'

'Oh, _him_,' said Fritha casually as the girl next to her began to laugh, Aerie giving a frustrated sigh.

'Of whom are we speaking?' came a voice above her and Fritha smiled as Jaheira finally rejoined them.

'The one,' she explained, with a nod to the elf opposite, 'Aerie was just telling us. Can you believe, there's this one man in _all _the world meant for me alone.' She shrugged nonchalantly, a grin pulling at her mouth. 'Personally, I hope he doesn't pitch up too soon; so many boys, so little time.'

'_Fritha!_' came the girls, predictably scandalised as Fritha laughed merrily at their outrage.

Jaheira rolled her eyes, a certain tightness to her jaw.  
'By Silvanus, Aerie, please save your romantic _nonsense_ for occasions when I am not about to eat!'

Aerie sent the druid a scowl, but any reply she may have made was cut off by the slam of the door, Anomen walking over to the table looking as though he had the weight of all Toril on his shoulders.

'Hello, Anomen,' Fritha greeted quietly as he arrived, 'how are the arrangements going?'

'Fine,' he answered curtly, a frown creeping across his face as he continued. 'My father is refusing to give over Moira's ashes to be scattered, but I expected as much. As for the service itself, all who have been invited plan to attend, apparently, Lord Cor held the service for her cremation in private and many are glad for such a chance. It is to be held tomorrow evening at the temple of Helm. High Watcher Oisig has honoured me by agreeing to perform the ceremony. Now, if you will excuse me.'

He turned to leave and Fritha was on her feet before she could draw breath.

'But, well, won't you join us? We were about to eat.'

He glanced back to her and she thought he would change his mind, but after a moment he slowly shook his head.

'No thank you, my lady. There are matters I must attend to.'

Fritha slumped back into her chair with a disheartened sigh, the men joining them soon after as the maid finally arrived with their food, and the conversation moved onto more mundane matters. Nalia and Aerie apparently had things to buy, Fritha agreeing to accompany them to the promenade with a plan to ask around the merchants there for work. Jaheira had plans as well it seemed, the woman saying she would go with Minsc to look through other sources, as did Haer'Dalis, though neither explained further and the girl did not see the need to question them.

'Right,' Fritha finally sighed as Aerie finished the last of her pear, 'lets go if we're going. Can you see that Anomen eats something?' she added to the woman still seated.

Jaheira muttered something about that being a 'proper sentiment' coming from _her_, but agreed all the same and Fritha left with the girls, the bright autumn sunshine going a long way to lift her spirits as they made their way to promenade, Aerie keeping up a constant tirade on 'that druid' as they went.

xxx

The great tiered arena of Waukeen's Promenade was just ahead of them now, the sandstone looking warm and dusty under the afternoon sun and the three made their way up the western steps. Aerie was still deep in the throws of her rant about Jaheira, Fritha sending Nalia a smile as they ascended; the elf an amusing echo of Imoen long past.

'I can't _believe_ her, she is just so _rude_ all the time! What's so funny?' Aerie demanded, suddenly turning to catch her smiling and Fritha held up her hands in a conciliatory gesture.

'Peace Aerie, you just reminded me of someone for a moment; I wasn't laughing at you.'

The elf looked suitably abashed by this, her anger finally dying.

'Oh, of course, I'm sorry. Jaheira just makes me so cross sometimes.'

Fritha smiled gently.

'I know, but try to be patient with her, she is finding life so hard at the moment with Khalid gone.'

Aerie covered her mouth with a hand, instantly dismayed.

'Oh, oh yes, her husband. She- she so rarely speaks of him I sometimes forget… Fritha,' she continued tentatively, 'what was he like?'

Fritha sighed deeply, halting in the shadow of the western archway and half closing her eyes as she summoned memories of the man.

'He was… kind. And warm, and mild; not unlike Keldorn, now I think about it. He never raised his voice in anger… and he was hers. To see them together, to turn and catch them in some kiss or tender glance.' She shook her head. 'It was like watching love played out before your eyes.'

Fritha paused a moment, a glimmer of the emptiness Jaheira must have to face every day hovering on the edge of her senses and she wondered how the woman coped at all.

'I have lost many in my time here, but I cannot imagine the yawning hole his passing must have left within her. To find someone who so completes you and then to have him stolen away… I could survive it, but what would be the point? The world would be empty from then on.'

'Oh, Fritha…' Aerie breathed, looking heartbroken, 'there could be another perhaps, in her future.'

Fritha nodded evenly.

'Quite possibly, but he would not be Khalid. I don't know,' she continued with a sigh, 'perhaps I am too dark in my outlook. Hearts heal just as every other part, with care and time, and perhaps there is someone out there made to help her. But after finding one such as he…' Fritha shrugged mildly, turning back to gaze out over the promenade. '_I _would not bother to look… So, where would you like to go?'

The two girls seemed more than happy to just follow her though and Fritha led the way over to the eastern end, stopping at each stall they passed to enquire about work, the merchants friendly for the most part. But no one knew of anything and at last they came to the final stall and the first one Fritha had ever visited in Athkatla, memories of the owner's kindness staying with her and it was there she planned to spend her limited funds.

The thickset merchant and his two boys did not recognise her, but it did not matter and she chatted idly with the man as she stocked up on soap and oil and other goods, the girls moving off to look at a nearby jeweller's stall.

'And another four score of arrows please,' she finished, gesturing to the basket behind the man.

'Barbed?' he asked and Fritha smiled.

'Why not.'

He nodded, stooping to collect them and sending a glance to his sons to ensure they were gathering together the rest of her purchases before politely turning back to her, carefully wrapping the arrows as he spoke.

'Are you with one of the caravans then, m'lady? I heard the last few were planning on leaving the city over the next day or so, before the winter sets in.'

'No, no we're just mercenaries,' Fritha answered with a shake of her head, before continuing eagerly, 'but do they need escorts, do you know?'

The merchant paused to hand her the now wrapped arrows, rubbing a contemplative hand across his chin.

'Ah well, not that I know of. There used to be a bandit group working the road south out of the city and at the time the caravans couldn't have been keener to hire mercs as guards for the journey. But apparently the bandit leader was killed along with most of his group, oh, I'd say a few days ago now, and the caravans have just dropped back to their usual escorts, so there are quite a few in your position.'

He gave her a commiserating look, though in reality Fritha felt more like laughing at the irony of the situation, the girl suppressing it to nod and sigh.

'Oh well, if you hear of anything.'

The merchant smiled, taking her payment as his sons appeared with the rest of her goods.

'I'll be sure to keep it to myself until I see you, m'lady.'

'My thanks sir. Good business,' she smiled, turning back to find the girls waiting patiently for her to finish and together they moved on.

Nalia wanted a set of heavier travelling robes as her old ones were no longer warm enough when they camped out and so they made their way across the promenade to a plain canvas tent set against the southern wall, a stout swarthy man with a nose curved like a scimitar greeting them as they approached.

'A pearl to you ladies,' he began, his voice tinged with an accent Fritha recognised as Alzhedo, 'I have a new stock of silks within, direct from Calimshan and for only-'

'That will not be necessary, thank you,' Nalia cut in politely, 'I am looking for travelling robes, ready-made and preferably wool, though a heavy linen would do just as well.'

'Of course, of course,' the merchant cried, hiding his disappointment behind a genial smile, the man pulling back the canvas next to him and ushering them into the pavilion. 'But take a step inside, ladies, and I am sure we will find something to please you.'

Inside, the tent had been divided by canvas hangings and the man led them into the main chamber, a large table, no doubt for cutting cloth stood by the entrance, the rest of the walls lined with rails of ready-made clothes and bolts of fabric, a tall mirror leant against the tent frame.

'If you wish to try anything on, please just go through the curtains,' he smiled, gesturing to a small alcove in the back of the chamber, just visible through the plain linen hangings, before he left them to their own devices, clearly deciding his time would be more profitably employed calling more affluent customers to his wares.

Nalia moved instantly over to the racks of robes, Aerie drifting absently along the rails of the other ready-made dresses and undergarments and Fritha moved to stand next to one of the canvas partitions, distracting herself with the murmur of the noblewomen in next room.

'So we shall have eight yards in the green, turquoise and the yellow each,' said a woman who put Fritha in mind of Nalia's aunt, though she sounded much more friendly.

'As you wish, my lady,' came a male voice, accented as the merchant's had been, though it sounded younger.

Another younger voice, but a girl's this time and one that sounded less than pleased.

'But, my last dress took _ten_ yards.'

A matronly sigh.

'Yes, dearest, but this autumn the fashion has dresses of a straighter cut; any more than eight would be a waste.'

'But mother,' the girl cried, clearly distressed, 'what if fuller skirts regain favour later in the season? There won't be enough.'

Fritha smiled faintly, wondering what it would be like to have such worries as she drifted away from the wall, moving over to where Nalia was running an eye over a handsome set of sky blue woollen robes, lined and trimmed in a deep amber linen.

'These are perfect, but twenty-one gold pieces,' she sighed, frowning slightly as she glared at the price. 'Even with haggling that will still be about nineteen; I hadn't wanted to spend so much.'

'Hmm, nineteen,' Fritha considered aloud, 'it would probably be cheaper to buy the wool and make it yourself.'

Nalia turned to her, eyes wide.

'You can sew? I mean actually _make _clothes?'

'Course,' Fritha laughed, 'Beth, the cook back in Candlekeep taught me. Together, we would make all my clothes, Imoen's too. Though I haven't done it for a while and never without her help. Still,' she grinned, 'you never know until you try.'

Nalia frowned slightly and went back to looking through the racks of robes. Though Fritha did not doubt that Nalia agreed with such a sentiment, the girl was clearly reluctant to experiment when it came to _her_ outfit. Fritha smiled, glancing back to where Aerie was stood holding one of the petticoats up to herself and gazing longingly at her reflection, the narrow bodice opening out into a wide billowing skirt, the hems heavy with lace.

'That's beautiful, Aerie,' Fritha sighed, watching the skirts as the elf turned back and forth, 'all frothy, like freshly churned milk. Are you going to buy it?'

'I- I don't know. How much is it?' the girl questioned, reaching tentatively for the neat square of parchment that had been pinned to the breast, her jaw dropping as she read it.

'_Twenty-four_ gold pieces! Why, I could by a fur-lined cloak for that!'

'You can?' came Nalia absently, now pouring over a set of heavy blue-grey robes, 'you must show us where then; the weather will warrant them soon enough.'

Aerie threw her a frown.

'Oh, you know what I mean! But, twenty-four gold… you could at least buy robes for the same.'

'Or less,' the girl quipped, finally deciding on the blue and amber robes she had originally seen and taking them outside to make payment.

Aerie was still mooning over the petticoats as Fritha turned to see who she assumed was the merchant's son walk in, his arms straining under four bolts of Calimshite silk, the women he had been serving finally having made a decision it seemed.

By the man's manner, she put him at a few years her senior and he had the look of his father though much leaner, his hair dark and skin swarthy with sharp aquiline features. She watched as he laid the bolts upon the table, deftly unrolling ream upon ream of the light material until he had the desired length before taking up his sheers to cut it, the rippled pile of turquoise cloth shimmering next to him and complimenting his colouring most beautifully.

He was handsome, Fritha decided, but not so old yet that his looks were obvious to him, and this slight uncertainty made him all the more attractive. He glanced up from the cloth he was cutting to throw her a smile and she returned it before turning back to Aerie.

'I think Nalia's finished, are you ready to go?'

The girl sighed, hanging the petticoat back over its rail with a nod.

'Yes, I suppose there is little point in prolonging things.'

Outside, Nalia had managed to haggle the price down to nineteen and four as she had hoped and they moved a pace or two from the tent to wait for the girl to push the large wrapped bundle into her bag.

It was getting late in the afternoon now, a few of the merchants about them beginning to pack up for the day and Fritha left the pair with plans to visit her theatre, the girl disappearing through the few knots of customers still browsing the stalls in search of a good deal. Nalia watched her go before turning back to Aerie with a smile, the girls falling into step with each other as they made their way slowly towards the western archway, stopping at various stalls as they went.

Nalia smiled as Aerie showed her the necklace she had just bought. It was nice to be friends once more and though she would have rather _died_ than admit it, she had missed the elf's company over the last tenday; if it had not been for Fritha, Nalia suspected she would have found herself quite lonely.

They had passed under the western arches now, walking through the cobbled plaza outside where merchants not fortunate enough to own a pitch within the promenade set up their wares in amongst the fountains, though most had packed up for the day now, the square empty barring a few traders and their carts. The girls headed north, skirting the curved wall of the promenade and they had almost left the square when a rough voice caught Aerie's attention.

'I warned you, Fald!'

Two men were stood half-hidden behind a fountain and a half loaded cart, the shorter one a merchant by his appearance, the other taller and stocky, his face screwed up in an angry frown.

'This is your last chance, mate. Pay your fee or I'm coming back with others!'

But the merchant was either not afraid or not willing to show it, for though he took a step back, no fear showed on his face and his voice did not betray him either.

'_Fee_? Ha! You're not a guild member and you couldn't extort coin from me even if you were. I'll not pay you a copper, so leave me be!'

The man bristled, laying a hand pointedly on his sword hilt

'You'll pay this instant, or so help me I'll-'

'You'll _what_?' snapped a shrill voice and Nalia threw a glance to the girl next to her, Aerie nearly trembling with anger. 'L-Leave him alone!'

The man seemed alarmed a moment before his eyes found them beside the fountain and it was the relief in his face that annoyed Nalia as much as anything, his words just as dismissive.

'Move on _girls_, this ain't any of your business.'

'Oh, I would disagree,' said Nalia coolly, taking the bow from her shoulder with slow smooth movements. 'Step back from him now or you will be more than sorry.'

A light was crackling menacingly between Aerie's fingers and he looked back and forth between them before raising his hands.

'Hey now, let's not be so hasty. I wasn't really going to hurt him.'

'Well, I doubt the Watch will see it that way,' added the merchant almost gleefully, 'they take a poor view of anyone upsetting us traders here in the City of Coin.'

'Oh, Hells take the lot of you!' the man swore vehemently, dropping his hands to turn on his heel and march off toward the slums. The merchant laughed deeply.

'Ha! Watch him go! He's been pestering me for days. I knew he was all talk, though it was nice to have a bit of help.' He dipped a quick bow. 'Fald Irosson at your service. If there is aught I can do to repay your kindness, ladies, please speak it now; I am part of a caravan bound for Trademeet and we leave at sunset.'

They both politely refused him though, the merchant nodding and going back to unhurriedly loading his cart. Nalia glanced to Aerie with a smile.

'Right, shall we-'

'Er, la-ladies?' cut in a small voice somewhere below them and Nalia turned to see a boy of about eight winters, a grubby hand reaching up tentatively as though about the tug Aerie's sleeve. The elf smiled, crouching down to speak with him, and Nalia wondered if Aerie had had much experience of dealing with children in the circus; Nalia knew _she _certainly had not.

'Oh, hello there, are you lost?'

He glanced between them nervously and Nalia offered him a smile, the boy turning back to Aerie as he answered.

'Er, no, I was looking for, well, someone who could help and I- I saw you,' he gestured vaguely to the merchant behind them, 'and- and I thought maybe you could help us.'

'Us?' questioned Nalia

'Yes, ma- er, m'lady. I'm Delon and my village, Imnesvale, in the Umar Hills is in danger. Some people have been found dead and there's ogres and wolves and maybe even the Umar Witch! So they sent us to get help, only we got lost in the city and robbed! And Blayel, he's my older brother, well, his leg was hurt, and he can't walk so well at the moment, so I've been looking for people who can help us while he's resting in the temple -the Illmaterans are looking after him,' he added cheerfully, his nervousness quite gone in the course of his tale.

Nalia shot Aerie a look.

'I thought you and Haer'Dalis were supposed to ask about the temples this morning.'

'We _did_, but we have not had a chance to ask in the slums yet. Haer'Dalis wanted to go to the temple district first -he likes to watch the Talosians' lightning cages,' Aerie added with a fond smile.

Nalia rolled her eyes, glancing back to the boy to confirm, 'So you've been sent to hire mercenaries?'

Delon nodded, Nalia turning to the girl next to her and lowering her voice.

'What do you think? I don't like to say we will without checking with the others first.'

'Well,' began Aerie thoughtfully, 'what do you think Fritha would say if she was here?'

They both turned as one to the boy before them, his grubby face lit with an innocent hope. Nalia smiled.

'We would be happy to help, Delon.'

The boy beamed.

'Oh thank you, miss, er, m'lady. Everyone will be so pleased.'

Nalia nodded once.

'Good, now how old is your brother, Delon?'

'Er, about fifteen winters, m'lady,' he answered, his smile fading slightly.

'Fifteen?' muttered Aerie with a frown, 'we can't let them make the way back to Umar alone.'

'Well, that is true enough, though they cannot travel with us.'

'I wonder whether…' Aerie trailed off, glancing over to Fald who was still slowly packing his cart. 'Ah, excuse me.'

As it was, Fald seemed more than happy for a chance to repay his debt to them, the merchant agreeing to take the boys as far as Trademeet himself and see the pair safely onto a caravan passing through Umar and Delon left moments later, excitedly running off to fetch his brother, still shouting his thanks back to them as he went.

Nalia smiled, though there was a slight uncertainty lingering beneath it and by the look of Aerie she was worrying too. Nalia sighed inwardly. There was little point fretting about it now; they had promised to help and whether or not the others approved, that was that.

Next to her, Aerie still looked anxious though.

'Do you think we should have found out how much they intend to pay us?'

Nalia shrugged. 'Quite possibly.'

'_And_ we did not ask the boy whereabouts the village is in Umar,' Aerie continued, glancing back along the street as though hoping he would reappear.

'That is true.'

Aerie frowned and bit her lip.

'Do you think Jaheira will ask us when we tell her?'

'Oh, I should imagine so.'

'Nalia!' the elf cried, clearly cross that she was not taking her concerns seriously.

'Well, Aerie!' she laughed, feeling suddenly light-hearted; Fritha's madness was catching it seemed. 'What is the point in worrying about it now? It is done. And Jaheira will scold and Fritha will sigh, but we will all still go as agreed and the world will turn.'

She sent the girl next to her a smile, glad to receive one in return, albeit tentatively.

'Come, we shall face it together.'

And they fell into step once more, making their way back to the inn.


	31. And the world turns

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. Nor do I own 'Pied Beauty' by G M Hopkins.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**And the world turns**

It was late afternoon, warm sunlight streaming through the windows of her room as Aerie stood before her dresser, finally unwinding the silk wrappings from her hair with plans to ask Haer'Dalis to replace them with fresh ones when the opportunity arose.

The elf glanced to the window as the clouds shifted outside, sending a sudden shaft of light over the bed behind her and opening a pane of intense colour across the two girls sat there side by side. Nalia had an embroidery hoop upon her knees, though it was clear she was not finding her sewing particularly interesting, the girl periodically trying to strike up a conversation with the girl next to her, Fritha unfortunately immersed in a book and making only vague responses to whatever she said.

'How long do you think it will take to reach Umar?' Nalia asked as though on cue, 'I know it takes a good two days to reach Trademeet and Imnesvale is much further east.'

'Mmm, okay,' muttered Fritha, turning a page of her book and Nalia sighed, going back to her sewing with a frown, Aerie unable to help a smile as she watched the friends.

Fritha had returned late the night before with tales of music problems and squabbling from her theatre, she and Nalia relating the story between them of Delon and the troubles in the Umar Hills. Jaheira already knew of their plans and had approved them with minimal complaints about their lack of specifics, the druid always eager for a chance to leave the city, and Fritha agreed they would depart for Imnesvale as soon as Anomen was ready.

Aerie sighed as she thought of the young squire. The service for his sister was that evening and the boy had spent most of the day making the final arrangements in the temple. He had returned to the inn now though, arriving back at the same time the rest of them had returned from buying supplies for their journey, Anomen going straight to his room after a brief greeting and no one had seen him since.

But worried though she was about the squire, she had other matters pressing on her since the group's trip to the promenade. Haer'Dalis, of course knew that she had spent her recent life travelling as part of the circus, but it was still a surprise for him to find out that it was in fact the same circus which was housed in the great striped pavilion currently camped in the corner of the marketplace. He had wanted to visit at once, but a show had already started, Aerie promising to take him later that evening and though she had thought nothing of the time, it slowly dawned on her over the course of the afternoon that aspects of her old life would be meeting with the new and she was now feeling unreasonably nervous about the whole thing.

Aerie unwound the last of the silken threads from her hair, the lock beneath still twisted from where it had been wrapped. She knew the girls thought her quite silly, the besotted way she rambled on about the bard, but it was so difficult not to, especially when she could not tell _him _of her feelings, or at least not of their intensity, worried he would feel as though she was trying to tie him to her.

Haer'Dalis would never talk of the future, not even idly, claiming all things were meant to die in a way that could be quite disheartening. Aerie never felt that he did not care for her, but it was difficult to know how much when he himself admitted he did not think of anything as enduring, love included.  
How could he truly put his soul into something if he believed it was doomed to end?

But strangely, it was a thought that only made her want to cling to him more and the idea that he might not get on with the people who had effectively been her family since she escaped the slavers was very worrying for her. For though she was sure he did not mean it unkindly, he could be a little disparaging of the Prime at times…

Aerie sighed again, plucking nervously at the sleeves of her dress, asking her question as much to break the pressing silence of the room as to hear their answer.

'Do you think I should change, or will it look like I'm making too much of it?'

She glanced back to see the girls share a bemused look, Fritha noticing her watching to hastily add, 'er, why don't you put your yellow robes on? I always liked those.'

'Really?' asked Aerie, frowning slightly. Haer'Dalis had once said he liked her green ones… but then perhaps she should wear the yellow, just to show she wasn't making too much effort to please him… Or, maybe the yellow dress with her green shawl over it… 'Oh, but I'm not sure,' she cried eventually, feeling unpleasantly nervous, 'What time is it?'

Fritha just rolled her eyes and went back to her reading while Nalia gave a terse sigh.

'Aerie for the last time, you've got about three hours before you leave, so stop fretting!'

'What are you so worried about anyway?' asked Fritha vaguely from behind her book. Aerie sighed, slumping on the edge of the bed next to her.

'Oh, I don't know. I know we're only going to visit the circus, but, well, they were my family for so long and I really like Haer'Dalis, I… I just want him to like them, I suppose.'

'Well, I'm sure he will, so stop worrying,' Nalia dismissed absently, frowning as she tried to unpick the stitch she had just sewn.

'Of course, you could just take it out of his hands,' came Fritha slowly, at last laying the book in her lap with the slightest of sighs.

Both Aerie and Nalia glanced to her, the girl more than willing to put down her embroidery to ask, 'What do you mean?'

Fritha straightened slightly, her smile growing wider.  
'I know of a potion that if correctly used makes the wearer irresistible. He would not care even if your father was the most evil creature ever to walk Faerûn,' the girl breathed dramatically, her face twisting with a smirk and Aerie wondered if this wasn't one of Fritha's more incomprehensible jokes.

'Truly?' she questioned doubtfully, but Fritha just nodded, quite serious it seemed and Aerie felt something in her stomach flutter. She didn't usually believe in such things, but on the other hand, _anything _would be better than just sitting there worrying, and some folk remedies could be most potent… Aerie smiled suddenly; the mere idea made her feel strangely giggly.

'A-Are you sure?'

Fritha nodded knowingly.

'Oh, yes. Imoen swears by it, and she isn't exactly _unpopular_…'

'Well… I suppose it couldn't hurt…'

That seemed to be all the agreement Nalia needed, the girl jumping from the bed to grab her cloak with a laugh.

'Come, I know of an apothecary just around the corner.'

xxx

Jaheira sighed, locking her door and swinging a cloak about her shoulders. She had not planned to report to the Harper hold for another few days at least, but with their plans to leave for Umar, she knew there was a possibility she would not be able to return before the tenday's end and it was best to remain compliant to Galvarey's wishes. She had found herself on unexpectedly good terms with the man and it was a situation she thought wise to maintain, however much of a chore she may have felt it to be.

Jaheira sighed again and straightened her cloak, moving along the hallway to Aerie's door, planning to let Fritha know she was leaving even if she had no intention of revealing her destination. She knocked sharply on the wood, opening it at the chorus of invitations to find the girls all looking very pink and giggly, the scent of violets heavy in the air.

Aerie was stood in her chemise brushing the creases from the saffron dress that was hung beside the open window airing, Nalia sat upon the bed tying a complicated series of knots on the end of what looked to be a willow switch in bright green ribbon, while Fritha stood before the desk adding various herbs to the water that filled the washbowl.

'And now the dried lavender,' Fritha muttered to herself, adding a handful before glancing to her with a smile, 'Hello Jaheira, going somewhere?'

The druid just frowned. 'The promenade. What _are_ you three up to?'

'Haer'Dalis is accompanying Aerie to the circus tonight,' answered Nalia with a grin, giving the stick she was holding a playful swish, 'we're making a love potion for her hair.'

'A _love potion_?' Jaheira repeated incredulously. 'All three of you are versed in some sort of arcane science or another, you are not seriously telling me you believe in this nonsense!'

But a reply was not forthcoming unless wild giggling was to be counted. Jaheira sighed, fighting against a smile herself.

'You cannot expect this to work.'

'Of course it will!' cried Fritha, grinning, 'I can just see Haer'Dalis now…'

She trailed off, stepping back from the bowl to sniff the air, blinking as realisation dawned behind her eyes.

'Why, Aerie,' she breathed, suddenly whirling to the girl, 'I appear to be _violently_ in love with you!'

Laughter rang through the room, almost drowning Fritha out as she turned to face this spectre of the man, a hand held to her chest whilst delicately fanning herself with the other.

'Oh Haer'Dalis, this is all so sudden!' she gasped shrilly in an imitation of the elf, turning her head aside to give a conspiratorial cackle, before continuing in her usual voice.

'Imoen got the recipe from a book in the archives; you just comb it through your hair and there you have it: instant _amour_. It's quite simple really. A spoonful of orrisroot, a measure of chopped parsley, another two of dried lavender, all steeped in spring water _and_,' she paused, clapping her hands at Nalia and the girl threw her the stick, 'stirred together with a willow switch, the tree of _true love_.'

'Hmm, perhaps we should be using holly?' wondered Nalia mildly and Jaheira sighed, closing the door as the room erupted once again, leaving the three cackling like a coven.

Back in the hallway she continued on towards the stairs, one more visit to make before she left and Jaheira halted before Anomen's door, knocking again but more gently this time, a moment's pause before the voice within bade her 'come in'. Jaheira entered to find Anomen stood before his dresser, tying a black arm band about the sleeve of the formal tunic he was wearing, the heavy dark blue fabric still clearly stiff from lack of wear.

'Lady Jaheira,' he greeted politely and she nodded once.

'I just wanted to wish you well before you left, Anomen.'

Jaheira swallowed, her own words bringing back unhappy memories as she continued.  
'I understand how difficult it can be to bid farewell to a loved one…There is so much you wished you had said and done, and suddenly you find it is too late. But I would have you know that you are not alone in this, however it may feel.'

The squire said nothing though, just looked vaguely uncomfortable and Jaheira sighed inwardly. It was easy to forget how young he was sometimes; it was the greatest shame that the problems with his father had forced this responsibility upon him.

'I-I thank you, my lady,' he answered finally with a wan smile and Jaheira nodded.

'Well, I just wished you to know my thoughts will be with you. Farewell Anomen.'

And she turned to leave, opening the door on Fritha to their mutual surprise.

'Hel- oh, Jaheira, are you just leaving?'

Anomen glanced up at the familiar voice to see Fritha stood in the doorway, a hand half raised as though about to knock and now unnecessary as the druid opened the door. Jaheira nodded, wishing them both 'farewell' and closing the door behind her, Fritha hovering uncertainly before it, a quiet solemnity to her face.

'I just came to see if you needed anything, Anomen.'

'No thank you, my lady,' he replied, smiling as warmly as he could, but it must not have looked too genuine for the girl sent him a pained frown and he turned his attentions back to the black armband he had been struggling with, the wide sleeve of his tunic bunching frustratingly under the knots.

'Here, ah, let me,' she offered, stepping in to take over and he watched her work in the mirror, smaller fingers deftly untying the mess he had already made, the girl throwing the band over her shoulder as she straightened out his sleeve. It was somehow easier when no one was looking at him and he suddenly found the words that had felt so stilted with Jaheira flowing from him.

'Moira used to help me with such when I was a boy. Always scolding me about an unfastened button or untied lace. She did not believe I would ever learn to dress _properly_ when I left for the seminary.'

Anomen sighed gently, the girl in the mirror frowning at the creased fabric of his sleeve in a way that was pleasantly familiar.

'You remind me of her, you know?' he continued quietly. 'So determined to see the good in others, even when they did not deserve it- and _she _was more than a little stubborn on occasion as well.'

Propriety was clearly making Fritha hold her tongue at that comparison, but he caught a glimpse of her outraged look in the mirror and suddenly smiled, broad and true; the first time he had felt able to in days.  
'Though it is not just that which you shared. She was always so bright and full of cheer… you seem to grow more like her by the day.'

Fritha glanced to him in the mirror, stepping back as she finished tying on the armband.

'Well, I suppose we are earning coin more regularly now; Imoen will soon be back with us and…'

She trailed off, looking a mixture of guilty and embarrassed and he sighed.

'Well, I had better be leaving, there are still some things I must attend to before the service.'

The girl nodded, moving to the door.

'Yes. Yes, of course. Farewell Anomen.'

xxx

Nalia sighed, stooping to collect a petticoat from where it had been kicked under the bed in Aerie's haste to dress before Haer'Dalis arrived, the girl straightening to hang it neatly over the chair and throw the leftover lavender into the fireplace, the dried flowers crackling on the embers. The room seemed overly quiet after the bustle of before, Aerie having been collected by the tiefling just moments ago and Fritha was still off speaking to Anomen, and Nalia felt herself a touch disappointed at being the one left behind.

Though she had not thought much of them at the time, she was used to attending balls and gatherings and she found she missed them in a way she could not have anticipated. Behind her, Nalia heard the door open and turned to see Fritha enter looking tired, the girl sinking on to the bed with a sigh.

'How is he?' she asked as she moved to join her and Fritha shrugged.

'To be honest, I don't know. All right considering the circumstances, I suppose. I just wish I knew of some way to make this sort of thing easier. But it all just comes down to time in the end.'

Nalia sighed, tugging at her sleeve to make the girl look at her.

'You're better at this than you think, you know. What you said to me, when we first left the keep… well, it really helped.'

Fritha smiled gently.

'Why is it you always know how to bring me round? So Aerie got off okay then,' she continued brightening, 'no last minute _crises_?'

Nalia shook her head.

'No, no, she was fine, of course. Nervous up until the _second_ Haer'Dalis knocked on the door and then she was all serenity and smiles. And after all the fuss she had been making earlier too!'

Fritha laughed at her outrage.

'Oh, she wasn't that bad, some people just get caught up in affection, blinded to all else. But it rarely lasts. I'm sure Aerie will be back to her normal self soon enough.'

'Hmph, as though that is anything to look forward to,' Nalia muttered sullenly, though it seemed they could both tell she did not mean it, Fritha giving her arm a playful slap as though to scold her.

'Oh come now, don't be wicked. You liked her enough to be her friend once before. Besides, this infatuation has certain benefits…' she trailed of with a glance to the desk and Nalia followed her gaze to the bowl still stood half full upon it.

So they spent the evening together, moving into Nalia's room and throwing the windows open to the breeze, both sat on the bed in their slips to enjoy the twilight's cool, drinking wine and combing the fragrant water through each other's hair. Nalia looked delicate and pale in just the starched white of her chemise, freckles speckling her shoulders like a sparrow's egg; something Fritha was quick to comment on.

Nalia smiled faintly. 'Yes, my freckles, they are all over I'm afraid.'

'You're _afraid_?' repeated Fritha, pausing in her combing to lean over her shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of her face.

'They are not considered attractive in my circles,' Nalia explained, holding out a pale freckled arm to consider it contemplatively. 'It was thought they would fade with age; you cannot know my aunt's disappointment that they did not.'

'I like them,' announced Fritha decisively, laughing lightly as she added, '_Glory be to Gods for dappled things_.'

Nalia smiled, feeling warmed and they sat in silence a few moments longer as Fritha finished her work before they changed places, Nalia moving to comb her friend's hair while hers dried. She knelt behind Fritha, brushing the weight of hair aside in preparation and exposing the girl's neck, her shoulders a hatching of thin white lines.

'Your back,' Nalia exclaimed, her voice coming slightly shrill in her surprise, 'it- it's all scarred.'

'What?' Fritha questioned, seemingly at a loss, before the realisation dawned, 'oh yes, a little reminder of my time in Irenicus's dungeon.'

Nalia felt her breath catch. Fritha had mentioned something about experiments when they'd first met, but she had never gone into any detail.

'He _tortured _you?'

The girl shrugged, the lines twisting with the movement.

'Well, after a fashion, though I think he was more interested in tormenting Imoen when he gave me those. He would have me strapped face down to a table and make her watch as he cut me.'

Nalia felt suddenly sick, the girl's casual tone of voice somehow making it all the worse.

'Oh, Fritha, that's so-'

Fritha nodded, glancing back to her with the faintest of smiles.

'Yes… I know. The worst part was having Imoen there though,' she continued, her voice at the same time both blithe and distant. 'Normally, I'd have screamed the place down, but I just couldn't bring myself to make poor Imoen feel any worse than she did. I remember lying there, biting my lip to keep from crying out. Half the time I just used to pretend to fall unconscious. He wouldn't stop, of course. He was more interested in showing her the blood and such, than he was in hurting me, but at least she wasn't worrying about it then.'

Fritha turned where she was sat to catch a glimpse of her back in the mirror opposite.

'I can hardly believe it was a month ago now, another one and all I'll have is the memory; these will have faded beyond sight.'

'So quickly?'

'They always have before.'

'You sound sad,' Nalia commented, watching as the girl turned back to her with a smile.

'No, but I can't help wondering sometimes if it wouldn't be better if they didn't. Your body should reflect your life, the things you've done. I mean, what do you think when you see those scarred old mercs downstairs?'

'I think they could do with learning when to dodge,' she quipped and they both laughed, Nalia glad for it.

'Yes, fair enough,' Fritha conceded, still grinning, 'but I saw the look on your face when we first met, you thought you'd got the wrong room, didn't you?'

Nalia smiled slightly, recalling her disbelief; Fritha had a point.

'So you wish they wouldn't fade?' she pressed and Fritha shrugged.

'Sometimes, but then…'

She trailed off with a sly smile, Nalia raising an eyebrow.

'But _then_?'

Fritha grinned. 'Then I think, "Well, I bet you wouldn't think that if you got a sweetheart!" and I laugh at myself and stop worrying about things I cannot change, at least for a while anyway.'

'Of course,' laughed Nalia, suddenly struck by how much she enjoyed the girl's starry-eyed practicality, 'the ever important issue of _love_. I think Aerie's madness is rubbing off on us. I mean, do you believe in this "the one" business?'

Fritha gave sceptical snort. 'Well, it's rather unlikely.'

'Yes, just _one _person in the _whole_ world.'

'I mean, if it were so you'd likely never meet him…'

'There's probably _dozens_ of men I'd get along with in Amn alone…'

They both seemed to trail off at once, the silence hanging between them and Nalia gave Fritha a shy look.

'Yes… I'd like to believe it anyway.'

Fritha sent her a sheepish grin.

'Me too. Gods, listen to us.' She shook her head, still smiling. 'Pathetic.'

'What do you think he'd be like?' asked Nalia after a moment's silence, Fritha glancing to her, frowning slightly as she considered it.

'Er, I don't know… I don't really have an image of him. I-' she paused again before continuing, an absent smile creeping across her mouth. 'I just know he'll laugh a lot. At me, with me. And he won't like me because I'm pretty, or I can fight or another silly reason. He'll just like _me_. The whole thing. Even my faults.'

'I was not aware you were in possession of any,' said Nalia with an innocent smile for the exact opposite effect. Fritha grinned.

'That is because, such a good friend as you are, Nalia dear, you are simply too polite to notice them. Well, what about you?' she asked, taking a mouthful of wine.

Nalia shrugged, trying to affect a casual air.

'Oh the usual: rich, handsome, shiny armour.'

Fritha snorted, giggling into her cup. '_Nalia_!'

Nalia smiled and sighed.

'I don't know really… just a good decent man, who'll look at me and see- see… oh, I don't know! Do you think we'll find them?'

Fritha shrugged, smiling wryly.

'I want to say yes, but… In the meantime though, I suppose we must find our comfort where we can…'

She trailed off, gently dipping her comb into the dish and holding it out to her in silent offer, her eyes soft. Nalia watched the bowl a moment, the surface rippling where water dripped from the comb, before she shifted, moving to kneel behind Fritha and once more resume her brushing, smiling slightly as she placed a hand on the girl's neck to keep the water from her skin.

'Yes, I suppose we must.'

xxx

Pale indigo clouds were racing across the night sky; so quickly, it looked almost unnatural, each glowing eerily as it passed across the fat crescent moon that was hanging overhead. Anomen closed his eyes as another gust of wind blew along the street, throwing his cloak out behind him, the dust it bore prickling against his skin. The darkened streets of the slums were empty around him, the silence broken only by the occasional shout of the courtesans or drunks, and the world felt distant as he made his way back from the temple, heart heavy with the knowledge his sister was finally gone.

Anomen sighed, gathering his cloak back about him, though more against pull of the wind than the night's chill. His father had not attended the service, but he had found that to be more of a relief than a disappointment; the worry that Lord Cor would arrive drunk and wrathful had never been far from his mind. It was a small gathering though, for Anomen had no other family to speak of and none of his father's servants had been given leave to attend, the majority there made up of Moira's friends and their own relatives and chaperones, a few of his friends from Order attending as well.

The service was simple, merely a few speeches by the people who had known Moira best interspersed with prayers, and barely lasting over an hour, his friends taking him to a nearby tavern afterwards. He did not stay with them long though, drinking the first round with them for the sake of civility before returning to the silence of the temple. He was not sure how long he sat there for, not praying but just trying to clear his mind and find some of the peace that usually came so easily there. It would not come though and he gave up in the end, surprised to see the moon well risen when he stepped outside.

Anomen glanced up, finding himself at the Coronet with little memory of actually getting there and he entered, his heart still heavy though it rose slightly at the sight that greeted him. Pouring over a table in the far back, a mess of copper curls that could be only one person. Fritha.

The girl was dozing by the look of things, her face hidden, pillowed on her arms to block out the light of the room. Her hair was loose and slightly damp, and it pooled across the table, swamping the half-drunk cup of tea to pour over the edge in long amber torrents. He touched her shoulder lightly and she jerked awake, quickly sitting up to push the hair back from her face, the faint scent of violets stirring in the air about him.

'Oh, Anomen, how was it? I tried to stay awake…'

She trailed off, shaking her head disappointedly as she yawned into her sleeve, clearly blaming herself for this failure and he smiled, letting a hand fall back to rest lightly on her shoulder.

'Do not worry, my lady, it is very late. And it was fine… my father, he did not attend.'

'Are you all right with that?'

He nodded once and she searched his face a moment, clearly looking for the truth of the matter, before drawing back with a tired smile, nodding as well.

'Well, if you are up to a trip out of the city, we have agreed to investigate some problems in Imnesvale.'

He smiled slightly, glad for a chance to get away from the place for a while.

'I am at your service.'


	32. Shadows of Imnesvale

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. Nor do I own 'Leisure' by W D Davies, 'To Autumn' by J Keats, 'Macbeth' by W Shakespeare or 'Matchmaker, Matchmaker,' by S Harnick.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Shadows of Imnesvale**

The day had dawned bright and fine, a strong breeze blowing in from the sea and carrying a dampness that could mean rain, though with any luck they would be well away from the city when it struck. Fritha stood at the windows of the common room, ignoring the bustle of breakfast behind her to watch the clouds race by on a field of pale blue. Though it had been late by the time she had found her bed the night before, she had actually slept quite well for once and her heart was filled with the pleasant excitement she always felt just before she set out for somewhere new.

Behind her, Nalia and Aerie were sat at the table, both ready to leave and passing the time with talk of Aerie's evening as they waited for the others to rejoin them. At least Nalia was _trying_ to, the elf seeming unusually reticent to speak of her visit to the circus, though she assured them both it had gone well, flushing such a shade of pink when she did so that Fritha could not help but wonder whether their love potion wasn't more potent than she had first thought.

Fritha let her attention return to the table at her back as Nalia sighed audibly.  
'If it all went well, then why won't you speak of it? I cannot help but find it worrying that you have nothing to say when you are normally so _vocal_.'

'That's right, laugh at me!' Aerie snapped, bristling, though Fritha wondered whether it wasn't more to distract Nalia from her questions than from any real indignation. 'You only ask to poke fun. You don't really care how it went.'

'That is a cheek considering I spent three hours playing ladies' maid helping you prepare yourself for it.'

'Well, I am so sorry, it was such a- a _burden_ for you.'

Fritha sighed and crossed to the door, moving outside to wait for their squabbling to finish. The slums were a hive of activity, those with trades rushing off to them or just setting up stalls there in the dusty streets, some of them little more than a blanket on the ground. She moved away from the inn's entrance, walking along the street to sit on some rotting wooden steps and watch the world go by, when high voices caught her attention and from her perch above the bustle, Fritha watched three dark-haired children play a skipping game on the flat roof of the building behind her.

What looked to be the eldest and youngest girls were the rope turners, the elder crouching to keep the rope level while the last girl skipped away, her apron flapping as she sang her rhyme.

'_My love's a sailor, he'll go to sea,  
__And I shall miss him terribly,  
__He'll sail away for a year and a day,  
__But how many letters will he send to me? One, two, three, four-'_

Suddenly, the girl tripped as a loud female voice bellowed from the house beneath them.

'Nera? Nera, I've need of you.'

The eldest girl dropped the rope as though it burned, hurrying through the open doorway and out of sight, a chorus of protests following her.

'Neri, you promised…'

'Neri, it was nearly my go…'

Fritha watched them, stood looking forlornly at the now limp rope before the youngest sighed and began to coil it resignedly about her hand. Fritha smiled, standing to move on to the roof proper, the two girls glancing up warily at her approach.

'Hey there, looks like you're short a player,' she began, crouching down as she reached them, 'it's been a few years since I did any skipping, but I'll give rope turning ago.'

'Wh-Who are you?' ventured the youngest, edging from behind her sister as she spoke.

'I'm Fritha.'

'Are you a mercenary?'

Fritha smiled wryly.

'I prefer to think of myself more as an explorer.'

Both girls glanced to each other to share a soft 'wow'.

'Have you killed any dragons?' asked the elder eagerly, her shyness quite forgotten.

'Killed a dragon? Oh, no… and wouldn't either, unless it gave me cause.'

The youngest girl laughed, brown eyes shining.  
'You're funny. I'm Luss and this is my sister, Flyk.'

'Felyka,' the elder corrected, giving her sister an imperious glare.

Fritha smiled.  
'And your other sister is Nera?' she confirmed and Luss nodded.

'Uh-huh, Neri's the eldest, but she doesn't play with us so much.'

'Yeah, mama needs her to help with the chores,' agreed Felyka, before continuing, 'so where have you explored?'

'Well, I've been to Baldur's Gate.'

'That's not very far away,' said Luss, frowning slightly, 'some of the merchants come from there.'

Fritha smiled gently. 'No, that's true. But, I've been to the island where Balduran, its founder, ended his final voyage. And this morning I'm heading to the Umar Hills, have you heard of there?'

Both girls nodded solemnly.

'Well, there's a village there that has been having some problems. Some say it's ogres, some that it's wolves, and some say that the Umar Witch herself has returned to the village.'

'That's scary,' breathed Luss, her eyes wide, 'won't you be scared?'

'Well, maybe. I-' Fritha began, but another cut her off.

'My lady?'

She glanced behind to see Anomen, halfway up the steps watching her with a clear interest.

'Ooo, who's that?' asked Felyka, peering shyly over her shoulder.

'That's Anomen. He's a priest of Helm.'

'Is he your boyfriend?'

Fritha snorted a 'no' and the two girls giggled appreciatively.

'Ah, looks like someone's here for you, as well,' she continued, straightening as a stout matronly woman appeared in the doorway behind them, glossy dark hair tidied back under a pale yellow scarf. 'Good morning, madam.'

'Good morning there, m'lady,' she greeted amiably, glancing sternly to her children as she added, 'my girls aren't bothering you, are they?'

Fritha smiled and shook her head.

'No, no, quite the contrary actually.'

'Fritha's an explorer,' Felyka piped up.

'But she doesn't kill dragons,' added Luss wisely.

'Indeed?' confirmed the woman, a smirk pulling at her lips, 'well, that's unlucky for you, for there'll be a dragon appearing in your very_ midst_ if you both don't get in now and do your chores.'

Fritha laughed gently at the chorus of groans.

'I bet Fritha doesn't have to do chores.'

'Where do you think I'm going now?' she laughed, crouching down before them again to pretend to pull a silver piece from each of their ears.

'And one for your sister, too,' she added, dropping another coin into Felyka's hand before she straightened to bid them farewell and made her way over to the waiting squire.

'You have quite a way with children, my lady,' said Anomen as she reached him, the man smiling warmly and Fritha was glad for it. It had been hard to see him so melancholy.

She threw a glance back to the girls behind her, talking excitedly with their mother.

'They remind me of myself, when I was- actually, not that long ago,' she admitted with a grin, clattering down the steps to join the others who had gathered in the street below.

'You are more responsible than you give yourself credit for. Why, I am sure you would make a fine mother.'

Fritha just smiled though, turning to the rest of them.

'Right, are we all here?' she began, casting her eyes over the group to find two missing. She sighed, bringing her fingers to her mouth and seconds later a shrill whistle split the air.

'Oi, you two!' she shouted, grinning as Aerie and the bard started from their conversation, still lingering in the doorway, 'stop flirting and fall in.'

Aerie flushed a stunning shade of magenta and Haer'Dalis sent her a smile and overly elaborate bow before they both wandered across to join them.

'Really, my raven, _what is this life if, full of care, we have no time to stand and stare_.'

'Our life, bard, so get a move on.'

Haer'Dalis laughed merrily and the group set off, the bard reciting the rest of the poem to Aerie as they brought up the rear together.

xxx

Autumn was well upon them now and the forests east of the city had taken on their bronzed livery, a crisp carpet of fallen leaves crunching pleasantly underfoot as they made their way to Umar.

Anomen shrugged his pack into a more comfortable position, no break to his steady gait as he followed the ranger through the trees, glad to be away from the city and feeling more at peace than he had in days. It was the afternoon of their second day travelling, the way steadily becoming more hilly as they went and according to Minsc and the rough map bought before they'd left the city, they should arrive at Imnesvale some time after noon on the morrow.

It seemed the village was quite well known, being one of the main caravan stops between Tethyr and the Heartlands. Something which was fortunate since the girls failed to get directions when they accepted the quest. Not that Fritha had let it bother her.

In fact, not a lot seemed to bother Fritha at the moment, the girl spending their days of travel walking side-by-side with Nalia and on occasion Aerie as well, the girls kicking through the amber leaves, their chatter so quick and fluid it was almost as though they were speaking a different language, the sound broken only by their warm laughter.

Anomen wiped a hand across his forehead, feeling unpleasantly grimy. Apart from the fact he had not been able to wash for days, they had been caught in an ambush by a nest of giant spiders that morning and though no one had been injured everyone was quite a bit dirtier for it. He was no stranger to the discomforts of the road, but the smell the spiders had left was disagreeable to say the least and he was looking forward to the time when they would stop and he could remove his armour for a thorough clean.

Another round of laughter from behind caused him to turn, glancing back to where Haer'Dalis and Aerie were walking together and joined for once by Nalia and Fritha, the pair flushed and beaming.

Fritha was different lately. She smiled a lot more; well, she had always smiled quite a bit, but now he would catch her just smiling at nothing. Anomen let his gaze travel along the line to where Haer'Dalis was entertaining the three, singing in a high falsetto the song of the merry maid, loudly bemoaning his virginity and making the girls laugh.

Though Anomen did not know when he had first noticed it, the change in Fritha was unmistakable and he could not guess as to what would have caused it. He watched as Haer'Dalis reached out behind her as though to playfully steal a hairpin, Fritha batting his hand away as she laughed.  
Anomen frowned. At least he _hoped_ he could not guess.

'By Silvanus, bard, be silent!' Jaheira finally snapped, turning back from where she was leading the way with Minsc to give the tiefling a glare. 'This day has been long enough already without you adding hours to it.'

'Oh, as you will, my ptarmigan,' Haer'Dalis sighed deeply. 'As a poet, this sparrow is more than accustomed to suffering the artistic ignorance of the masses.'

'Well, as long as you are suffering in _silence_,' the women replied with a smile and everyone laughed, the man in question joining them, albeit grudgingly.

The way was becoming steeper again now, the trees thinning about them as they climbed and a silence fell over the group, broken only by their deepened breathing until, at last, they left the cover of the trees and Aerie stopped, her breath catching in her throat.

They were stood on a rocky outcrop, the rolling hills and valleys of Umar stretching off to the horizon, patches of amber forests stippling the verdant hills, the whole landscape a hazy gold under the setting sun.

Her heart was already trembling from the climb and Aerie felt almost light-headed as she stared out across the golden hills, a river like a ribbon of silver snaking along the gorge beneath them. She had seen much of Amn on her travels with the circus, but always from one town to another, journeys by roads though civilised lands, and the wild beauty of this place was stirring.

'It's beautiful,' she breathed and Jaheira smiled, sending her an almost fond look.

'Ah, _season of mists and mellow fruitfulness_,' came Fritha next to her and Aerie smiled.

'When I was younger, playing with my sisters, we would dare each other to get as high as we could. You would look down, the city and the mountains laid out beneath you and the sun sinking behind it, setting the whole world ablaze.'

'Back in Candlekeep I would sometimes wake before the dawn so I could sit on the roofs and watch the eastern sky ripen with the sunrise.'

'Ripen?' repeated Aerie, wondering if she'd heard her right.

'Yes, the way it warms from the palest quince to the deep blushing orange of a heavy autumn peach… Oh, I am so _hungry_!' Fritha added with a mix of groan and laugh, a hand clutching her stomach.

Aerie smiled, both at the girl's joke and her description, her words bringing the scene to life behind her eyes.

'Fritha,' she began and the girl glanced to her questioningly.

'Yes?'

'I- It's nothing just… the way you say things sometimes; it's very pretty.'

'Yes, Aerie, I have noticed it too,' agreed Jaheira with a broad smile, 'almost worthy of a bard…'

A look that Aerie could not read passed between the two before Fritha suddenly smiled, continuing airily.

'Oh, I'm sure a bard would have been able to come up with something _much_ wittier, something that would have us all laughing politely behind our hands. Well… except for Anomen, he would just scowl.'

'What?' interjected the squire, starting at the mention of his name and turning back to them with a frown. The three laughed, Jaheira shaking her head.

'Nothing, Anomen,' Fritha smiled, stepping forward to stand next to him, 'Aerie was just commenting on the sunset. So where is Imnesvale?'

Minsc glanced to the map and pointed north-eastwards.  
'Do you see the fourth hill, young Fritha? In the valley behind it. This river leads to the village, though Boo says the way will be quicker over the hills.'

'We won't make it tonight,' sighed Nalia. Fritha smiled, tugging her sleeve.

'No, but we didn't expect to. Come on.'

xxx

They arrived at Imnesvale early in the afternoon of the next day, just as Minsc had predicted, the last few miles walked on the north-south trade road that the village had grown around. The group secured rooms at the local inn, taking only time enough to lighten their bags before setting out for the Mayor's home. Fritha crossed the large open square, passing the village's stone dais, the wind whipping the fallen leaves about their ankles as they went.

There was only a handful of buildings in the village though, just one wide packed earth street before it opened to a rough green plain, rising up to hills in the east while the forest continued to the north and west.

The place was quite small really, the majority of people living on the surrounding farms and relying on the township for trade and supplies; Imnesvale the vital hub of a very widespread rural community. And it seemed everyone in that small village had an opinion on who or what was behind the recent killings, the mayor's stout and stern wife declaring it was a tribe of ogres who had recently taken up residence in the northern forests, while the innkeep was just as vehement in his belief that the Umar Witch had returned to take vengeance on them all.

The mayor himself, a corpulent balding man of late middle age by the name of Lloyd, seemed reasonable enough though, merely telling them what he knew of the situation so far.

'Well, my lady, some time ago a few of the outlying farms began reporting that strange beasts were roaming the hills and forests to the north, with flocks on the more remote holdings being attacked. At first we attributed it to the wolf pack that has roamed the area for decades, though such behaviour was unusual for so early in season; it is not yet cold enough for them to be coming down from the mountains in search of food.

'Then over a fortnight ago now, a shepherd from one of the more isolated holdings went missing, he turned up three days later, his body skinned and torn in a way that I could not imagine any animal was the cause. Since then, more deaths have occurred, rumours about the Umar witch and the ogres growing daily. People are frightened; some farmers have moved within the village boundaries for fear of being next and now our local ranger Merella has gone missing, we are at a loss as to who to turn.'

'Well,' sighed Fritha once they were all back outside, blinking in the glare of a bright afternoon sun, 'what do we think? Angry ogres, hungry wolves, or the Umar witch?'

Jaheira frowned.

'It is as the minister said; the state of the bodies would discount the involvement of any normal animals and these reports of the witch seem to be little more than hearsay. The tribe of ogres certainly bears investigation though.'

Fritha nodded.

'Okay, and at least we've an idea of where they'll be. Lloyd said someone saw one near the edge of the forest just days ago, so there may still be some tracks.'

The group set off once more, crossing the plain and heading north towards the forest. The nearby hillside to the east was dotted with colour, the village children taking advantage of the day's blustery weather, running up and down trying to get kites airborne and Fritha gave them a longing look as she passed.

Jaheira and Minsc moved off into the forest, looking for any trace of a trail and Fritha let her gaze linger there a moment before turning with half an idea of watching the kites when she noticed a girl of about seven summers sat upon the low wall outside her house at the edge of the village, her sandy hair drawn back into one long braid. The girl glanced to her, holding up a hand in greeting and Fritha walked across to join her.

'Hello,' the girl greeted at her approach, 'you're from the city aren't you?'

'Most recently, yes. I'm Fritha.'

She offered her a hand, the girl taking it to shake solemnly.

'My name's Kaatje.'

'Well, it's very nice to meet you, Kaatje,' Fritha smiled, a noise behind causing her to turn and she leaned forward, peering around the house at their back to see three boys in their mid-teens hiding behind the woodpile, all laughing and snorting as they shared the contents of large jug between them.

'The blond one is my brother, Valsben,' said the girl in answer to her unspoken question, her voice taking on an air of slight disdain. 'He stole Father's ale from the pantry earlier today and now him and his stupid friends are drinking it -Mother's going to be _so_ cross when she finds out,' she added with a gleeful smile and Fritha laughed, sitting down beside her and gesturing to the other younger children that scattered the nearby hillside.

'You don't want to play kites with your own friends then?'

Kaatje shook her head, sad but resigned. 'I can't.'

'You've no kite?'

'No, I have one,' the girl sighed, sounding suddenly old and Fritha felt herself smile as she continued, 'but Mother took it from me and said I wasn't getting it back until I stopped telling lies, only… only I wasn't! I saw what I saw and I won't say otherwise, not for all the kites in Wa!'

Fritha felt an unease stir in her stomach.

'Kaatje, what did you see?'

'Well, I'll tell you,' the girl answered after an appraising pause, 'only don't tell my mother, she said it'd be my life if she caught me telling the story again. About a tenday ago now, I remember because Mother and Vals were arguing again, so I had snuck away to see Merella. She's the ranger here and she's really nice. She tells me about the plants and the animals and everything. Anyway, as I got closer to her cabin I heard a strange noise, so I hid in the bushes and I saw this- this dark shape leaving her cabin. It was like a wolf except all made of shadows. I wanted to go inside and see that Merella was all right, but I was too afraid. I ran home and told my mother straight away, but she didn't believe me.'

Kaatje shook her head miserably. 'Everyone says I'm lying, that wolves haven't been seen so close to the village since the deep winter of 1360, but I'm not and now, now Merella is missing.'

'Fritha, are you coming?' called a voice and she glanced up to see Nalia beckoning to her, the others stood watching expectantly.

'Yes,' she called back, sending the girl next to her a reassuring smile as she rose. 'Don't worry, Kaatje, we'll find Merella for you.'

xxx

They followed the trail they had found northwards for just under an hour before they came upon the ogres' camp, the creatures quickly presenting them to their leader Madulf, who explained in halting common that they were deserters from the Sythsill army who had journeyed north to escape the violence, and were not responsible for the killings in Imnesvale; indeed, they had lost people themselves.

Jaheira found no reason to doubt the creature, especially when Madulf asked Fritha to take a request to Minister Lloyd for trading between his tribe and the village, and the group set off soon after, heading south westwards through the darkening forests. Fritha had already explained to them what Kaatje had told her, and now it seemed the ogres were no longer under suspicion, what the little girl had seen at the ranger's cabin was the only promising lead they had left.

Jaheira was always happiest out amid the nature she grew up in, but the forest did not feel the same there in the western reaches. Though she had always held a careful respect for predators and other more dangerous aspects of the natural world, the druid had never felt fear when out in the wilds. But now…

She felt uneasy, like she was being watched by things she could not see and as though to be of some comfort, her mind drifted back to her last visit to the Harper hold, and the warmth that she had carried with her since came rushing back.

Jaheira had expected more questions from Galvarey, more awkward discussion on the subject of Fritha, perhaps a firmer request to meet the girl. But after a quick talk about what she had been doing and her next tenday's plans, he led her into the hold's common room and it was as though she had seen a ghost. Sat there, in amongst Harper's both old and familiar was Dermin: her mentor, the man who had brought her to the Harper's and one whom she had not seen in almost ten years.

She felt a smile pulling at her mouth as she watched the meeting play again behind her eyes. The warm feeling of belonging as the pair laughed, reminiscing on journeys of old, both good and ill; even his condolences on Khalid had held some comfort, for they were not the shallow words of any acquaintance, but sincere regrets from a man who had been there from the beginning, who knew how much he had meant to her.

Jaheira had not felt so part of something since Khalid had died and ashamed though she was to admit it, she was almost looking forward to her return to the city that she could meet them all again.

'Is that-?'

Aerie's voice snapped her from her thoughts and Jaheira glanced up at, to notice a clearing up ahead, the grey of stone visible through thinning the trees. The cabin.

It was a squat plain building, probably only large enough for two rooms, with a roof of greying thatch. Most of the shutters were closed, no smoke rising from the chimney despite the chill to the wind, and Jaheira fancied the house held a dead look. Her skin bristled as they drew closer and in a way that had nothing to do with the breeze. There was no bird song, no sound at all save the hiss of the wind as it stirred the branches above them.

'I think we're here,' Fritha confirmed unnecessarily as she finally stepped into the clearing with Minsc, the others hanging back slightly as the girl moved up to the house.

'Has no one thought to visit her cabin before now?' asked Anomen, a hand absently fingering the eye of Helm that hung at his neck and Jaheira wondered if he sensed something too.

Fritha merely shrugged though, standing on her toes to peer through a darkened window.

'According to Minister Lloyd, they only realised Merella was missing because she was supposed to meet him about a recent killing and she never arrived. After that, no one dared brave the forests to check her cabin.'

Fritha moved back from the window, none the wiser it seemed, the girl drawing her sword and Jaheira noticed those who had yet to ready their weapons followed suit as the girl stepped onto the raised wood of the porch and pushed the door ajar.

'Hello? Merella?'

Silence followed, one moment stretching into two when another gust of wind howled through the clearing and a loose shutter crashed closed causing everyone to jump, something that was followed by much nervous laughter as Fritha pushed the door open and stepped inside.

It was hard to see anything at first, the room dark about them and something felt sticky underfoot as Jaheira followed the girl inside, her eyes adjusting to the gloom to find it covered in blood, the floor stained red where it had soaked into the wood. The air was heavy with the stale reek of rotting flesh, its source soon found in a tangle of flesh and blood that had once been a man, the skin missing and body half eaten.

Just one body could not account for all the blood though, and it seemed to have gotten everywhere; splattered across the walls and covering the floorboards, long smears across the floor leading to the doorway they had just entered through, as though a body had been dragged outside.

'By Baervar,' breathed Aerie as she came in behind them, staring around the place as though it was the ninth layer of Hell.

Fritha snorted and Jaheira felt herself wince as she heard the girl declare brightly, 'This place has nothing on Rejiek's.'

There was more blood in the second room, the floor around the bed a jumble of what looked to be the paw prints, though Minsc confirmed her suspicion that there had probably only been one of the creatures.

'Hey, I think I've found something.'

Jaheira moved back through to the main room to find Fritha, whom she had left rifling through various books and parchments on the table, now stood with a book open in her hand.

'Diary,' she said by way of explanation before flicking to the back and quickly scanning the last few entries, the others stopping their searching to gather round and listen.

'It's seems Merella noticed the local wolves were acting strangely too. Listen. _I can't describe the feeling I have now when out on patrols, as though something, some awareness separate from the forest follows me wherever I am. More worrying still is the behaviour of the local wolf pack. To see them so far south this early is unheard of. I see them in the woods just north of here when I patrol, following my movements as though stalking me, but any attempts to engage them are ignored… they act as though possessed_…'

So Merella had sensed it too, the forest watching her and Jaheira felt the skin of her neck prickle as Fritha continued.

'_In my continuing efforts to discover the source of the wolf pack's strange behaviour I took my patrol further north than usual, taking a journey of a few days to travel almost to the forest's edge and back. All seemed normal apart from the unnatural quietness of the place and some troubling dreams each night I camped out. However, I found the old temple ruins up there show sign of recent inhabitants. Could they somehow have affected the wolf pack? I have made plans to go and investigate the area further tomorrow, after my meeting with Lloyd_… And that was written almost a tenday ago,' Fritha continued, turning back a page to check the date and finally closing the book. 'What do we think?'

Jaheira frowned. 'This temple could be unrelated to the wolves or it could be the root of this mystery. Either way, we should look into it.'

It was agreed, and after one last check of the cabin, the group left, everyone suddenly very keen to get back to the village before the sunset. Anomen brought up the rear watching the group before him. Their formation was more close than usual, a wary silence hanging over them; all bar the tiefling, of course, who seemed more exhilarated than anxious, excitedly whispering to Aerie as they went.

They walked and walked, and they must have only been a mile or so from the village when Minsc suddenly brought them to a halt, the ranger saying nothing but his reason was instantly clear. Almost lost in the hiss of the wind, the sound of something crashing through the forest and it was getting louder…

Everyone fell back instinctively, weapons drawn with only the slightest noise, the belted strap on his shield creaking as Anomen swung it down from his shoulder, Nalia taking a step behind him to ready an arrow. The noise was louder now, the rumble of footfalls just audible over the crash of bracken. A flash of brown through the trees and in his peripherals Anomen saw Nalia draw back the bowstring, waiting for the next clear shot.

Another flash and suddenly Aerie cried 'No!' just as Fritha jumped forward to shout, 'Stop, stand down, it's just children!'

Nalia pulled away just in time, releasing the arrow high into the canopy as three boys crashed in to view screaming, 'Dragon! Dragon!'

'What?' Fritha cried, whirling back to see a gibberling chasing through the undergrowth after them. She sighed deeply. 'Nalia.'

The melodic hum of the released string, the whisper as another arrow split the air and the creature fell dead instantly, Fritha turning to the boys now collapsed at their feet and laughing breathlessly.

'Who are they?' questioned Aerie, still looking a touch alarmed.

'Well, the blond one's Valsben, Kaatje's brother,' Fritha provided with a shrug. 'I don't know the names of the other two, but they're his friends.'

'You recognise them?' came Jaheira and Anomen was sure he heard a certain tautness to her tone. Fritha merely nodded though.

'Yes, they were all hiding behind her house, drinking some ale they'd stolen when I was talking to Kaatje earlier.'

Jaheira looked suddenly and severely displeased.

'You _saw_ it happening? And you did _nothing_ to stop them?'

'_By the pricking of my thumbs…_' he heard Haer'Dalis mutter behind him, his amusement apparent, Aerie hushing him as the women continued.

'How could you be so irresponsible, Fritha?'

'I'm sorry, I didn't think,' the girl apologised blandly, although Anomen was given the distinct impression that the only thing Fritha was sorry about was having to listen to the druid's reprimand.  
Anomen frowned. He would have thought someone who had been mere inches away from being shot would be taking the situation much more seriously.

'Well, we'd best get this lot back to the village. Come on, boy,' Fritha continued with a sigh, hoisting Valsben to his feet, Jaheira following suit with the brown-haired lad who leant against her heavily and told her he loved her, much to the amusement of the rest of them.

The wind had picked up now, indigo clouds boiling overhead and bringing with them an early dusk. Some of the trees close to the village were baring the remnants of lost kites and the children had wisely abandoned the pursuit in favour of a game of marbles on the packed earth before the town dais.

'Hey Fritha,' called a high voice and Fritha glanced up to see Kaatje running across the street to meet them, the girl stopping in her tracks as she noticed her brother walking between Minsc and Jaheira and swaying threateningly. 'Vals!'

The girl instantly turned to run back to her house, disappearing inside only to reappear moments later with her mother in tow, a tall narrow women with a careworn face who at that moment looked as though all the furies of the lower plains were flowing through her.

'_Valsben Brenith Herdson_! I have _never_ been more ashamed of you! Your father has been out for the last hour, braving those beasts to search for your ungrateful hide! Just you wait till he gets home!'

'Ah, ma please, my head's killing…' the lad groaned as he staggered forward, the other boys snickering behind him.

'_Your head_?' the woman shrieked, cuffing the side of it for good measure, 'Inside _now_! And you two as well!' she ordered, rounding on his friends who promptly stopped laughing. 'Go on; I know for a fact your mother is worried sick, Neler.'

They sullenly did as they were told, following Valsben into the house, and Kaatje's mother spent the next few moments apologising profusely to them for the behaviour of her wayward son, Kaatje stood behind her all the while, hiding her giggles in her apron as she enjoyed the trouble her brother was in, before her mother ushered her inside too and, with one final apology, bade them farewell.

Only a few more paces along the street and they finally returned to the inn, the group taking a table to eat together, though Fritha did not join them, staying only long enough to collect a piece of bread and a square of cheese before leaving to watch a marble tournament just starting outside.

Anomen watched her go before turning back to his own meal. The scene at the cabin had been unpleasant enough to curb his appetite, and he ate slowly, wondering how much of Fritha's nonchalance had been genuine as he recalled her comparison to the tanner's house.

And yet, things could transpire to be much worse than any of them had experienced if Merella's theories were found to be true. What could have caused the wolves to begin acting so strangely? And though Anomen could not say why, he felt certain that this temple was somehow the cause of the problem.  
Perhaps it had originally been to the glory of some dark god, forgotten over the ages, but if people had started worship there again…

He started as an unexpected peal of thunder rattled the windows, rain suddenly patting heavily against the glass and he rose as others did, throwing wide the door in time to see the heavens open, the square descending into a chaos of children, all whooping and shrieking as they danced about in the downpour, Jaheira providing an amusing mirror of the village mothers, stood under the eaves demanding Fritha come inside that instant.

'Never!' the girl laughed, the thunder almost drowning her out, stood on the town dais with her head thrown back to catch raindrops on her tongue. 'Come on, Nalia!'

Anomen watched the young woman next to him, wringing her sleeves with indecision before she screamed shrilly and gathered up her skirts to go charging out to join her and Jaheira finally seemed to give them up as a lost cause, turning back into the inn.

'Idiots, the pair of them. Haven't the sense they were born with.'

Anomen glanced back to the girls, dancing along the dais laughing wildly, before he shook his head, following the druid inside.

Nalia returned a quarter of an hour later, soaked through and flushed, explaining that Fritha was still watching the storm, before promptly leaving to change out of her wet clothes. Jaheira snorted crossly, throwing the closed door a dark look as though it was somehow its fault Fritha had not returned yet.

'The girl is mad.'

'Isn't she though,' beamed Haer'Dalis as though the druid had just bestowed upon her the highest of compliments.

'Yes, and she needs no encouragements from you, _bard_!'

Haer'Dalis did not look happy at this and neither did Aerie, though Anomen wondered if it did not stem more from the druid insinuating her sweetheart would somehow have an influence on the girl's behaviour. But either way, he had no desire to hear the imminent quarrel. He quickly drained the last of his ale.

'Please excuse me a moment,' and with that, Anomen left for the bar.

So, it seemed Jaheira had perhaps noticed it as well, this spark of regard between Fritha and the bard…  
Anomen shook his head; it was a shame if it were so, for it was clear where Haer'Dalis's true affections lay, his attentions never far from Aerie. The squire sincerely doubted Fritha had failed to notice this though, observant as she was, but hearts were rarely known to be bound by reason and Anomen resolved to keep an eye on the tiefling from then on, lest he take advantage.

There was a window next to him as he stood awaiting his drink and he could see her through the rain-streaked glass, Fritha now just stood before the dais, her gaze fixed southward. The rain was starting to ease off, the storm rolling on down the valley, ceasing as suddenly at it had begun, and he watched as a break in the clouds engulfed the square in a warm yellow light, the water that drenched every surface sparkling like a thousand stars and it was in that moment she turned and saw him through the window. She waved.

'Yer ale, milord.'

Anomen started, turning back to the bar to find the innkeep waiting patiently for coin. He paid him, returning to the table and he had just sat as Fritha appeared in the doorway.

She was shivering uncontrollably, water dripping from her hair to run across her face, though she seemed to be disregarding both, her eyes bright and black as polished jet as she spoke.

'Finally come to your senses have you?' said Jaheira curtly, though the girl did not seem to notice her tone, her voice quiet and breathy.

'Oh, it was beautiful. I've never seen anything like it! The way clouds hung black overhead, boiling and twisting like the sky was alive… and then lightning would suddenly slice over the hills, thunder roaring through the air as though the world were at an end!' she cried, throwing an arm wide and splattering half the table with water. 'Oh, sorry.'

Jaheira rolled her eyes and Anomen could tell she was trying not to smile.

'Come on, upstairs now, before you catch your death.'

And the women rose to usher her swiftly up the stairs, Fritha still chattering breathlessly as they went.

xxx

Fritha sniffed, the sudden change from the cold of the square to the warmth of the inn making her nose run, Jaheira ahead of her as they climbed and keeping up a constant tirade as they went.

'Gods, Fritha, how are old are you? Twelve? No, you are not, and I think it high time you began to act like it! Standing out in the rain getting soaked through.'

'I was enjoying the glory of nature,' Fritha supplied with a grin, Jaheira ignoring her to point along the landing.

'Here, go into Nalia and Aerie's room, the fire is already lit in there. Get out of those wet clothes and I will fetch your bag.'

And with that she turned and stalked off to the room that they were sharing, Fritha moving to the door the woman had indicated to find Nalia, already changed with her wet clothes hung over a chair before the fire, her hair hanging in dark red tendrils as it dried.

'You're back,' she smiled, coming forward to welcome her in, 'how was it? I wish I could have stayed out, but it was so cold.'

'It was amazing,' Fritha grinned, letting the memories of it draw her back. 'There was this moment towards the end, when the wind seemed to drop and the rain just hung in the air, like time had been stopped. I-'

'_What_ did I say?' snapped a voice behind her, Fritha turning to see Jaheira in the doorway. 'Get out those wet things _now_! Here's your bag. I trust I don't have to stay and dress you.'

'Stay?' asked Nalia, 'You are going out?'

'Just into the forests to pray awhile.'

Fritha frowned slightly, concerned.

'Should you be going alone?'

Jaheira sent her a look that clearly indicated she did not think much of this hypocrisy before answering, 'No and you are not the only one to think so. It seems _Boo_ is insisting on accompanying me.' She thrust the bag into her arms. 'Now change!'

Fritha managed to hold in her laughter until the druid had stalked from the room, the girl still giggling as she moved behind the screen to peel off her wet clothes, Nalia wringing them out over the hearth while she changed, the girl hanging them on the chair to dry with her own.

Fritha sighed, straightening her tunic and finally stepping out from behind the screen to sink on to Nalia's bed, the girl herself sitting down next to her, pulling her bag onto her lap with a smile and drawing out a large bottle of dark red liquid and two cups.

'Is that- is that _wine_, Nalia? Where did you get it?'

Nalia sent her a roguish smile.

'I had it sent up by the maid. I had a feeling Jaheira would bring you in here once you came back inside. Besides, it's medicinal, here…' she grinned, passing her the cup she had just poured, 'cheers!'

Fritha laughed, receiving the cup from her and raising it in toast before draining the contents and the girls settled down to finish the rest between them, talking about where life had brought them and teaching each other the songs they had learnt when they were young and without the worries that just seemed to come with age.

Fritha glanced to the window, where a sky of inky clouds hid both stars and moon, before turning back to the girl next to her. Nalia was sat as she was, barefoot on the crumpled blankets of her bed, her dress hitched up to her knees and exposing her pale freckled legs. Her hair was wavy where it had been left to dry, softening the slight sharpness to her features and Fritha was pleased by the idea that only she could see the girl so, propriety keeping all others at a distance.

They had talked for hours, the subject becoming increasingly silly as the wine bottle emptied until it had finally descended to their current topic, the group's first and only couple.

'I wonder what Aerie and Haer'Dalis _did_ do on that night they went to circus…' mused Nalia, leaning back against the headboard with a sigh.

'You mean she hasn't said anything more than what she told you back in Athkatla?' Fritha confirmed, rather impressed by the elf's resolve; Nalia could be very persuasive. The girl shook her head.

'Not a word. She says they just met with her uncle and friends and went for a walk afterwards. I keep asking her if they kissed but she just flushes pink and tells me to mind my own business.'

'Coyly?' questioned Fritha.

'No, crossly now you mention it…' Nalia answered with a contemplative frown, straightening slightly as she considered aloud, 'Hmm, do you suppose that maybe they haven't kissed? That would explain why she's cross. Maybe Aerie tried to kiss Haer'Dalis and he wouldn't let her.'

'What, you mean he was all, "No Aerie, we cannot give in to our base passions!",' Fritha sent her a sceptical look, 'I can't see it myself. Oh, can you imagine the horror of plucking up the courage to kiss someone and them not kissing you back?' She laughed, her stomach twisting as she lost herself to the feeling, 'That awful moment of realisation, when your lips are on his and you can feel the rigour in his jaw. Oh, I'd just die of embarrassment on the spot.'

'Or perhaps…' Nalia continued, though she did not get very far before her voice was lost to laughter.

'Yes?' pressed Fritha, eager to hear the joke, Nalia raising her pink face from her sleeve to choke, 'Or perhaps they kissed and it was really _dreadful_!'

'Nalia!' Fritha cried and promptly burst out laughing as well, 'Besides, I'm sure Aerie's silence is a result of things more than likely going _well_ rather than badly.'

Nalia snorted. 'Yes, Aerie is still maintaining that, "we just talk and hold hands" rubbish. I'll wager they are down in the tavern kissing as we speak.'

'Really? Gods, poor Anomen,' said Fritha with sincerity and the pair were lost to laughter once more.

Fritha sighed, finally calming enough to lean back against the cool uneven plaster of the wall behind her, the mixture of laughter and wine leaving her warm and slightly sleepy.

'Have you ever been kissed, Fritha?'

Fritha opened her eyes to find Nalia leant back against the headboard, the girl watching her with a gentle look. Fritha shook her head.

'Not likely; I still thought boys smelt until a year or so ago. You?'

The girl shrugged

'Well, once. My father would sometimes have knights stay at the castle; some were old friends, others just men from campaigns in which he had served. Once when I was in my thirteenth year, a knight came to stay for a tenday and he brought with him his squire, Avron. He was about my age, perhaps a year older and we befriended each other for the time he was there. I remember we were in the orchard when it happened, one moment we were just laughing and he was trying to steal the book I had been reading, the next I was in his arms…'

Nalia trailed off looking suddenly uncomfortable and Fritha made a show of taking out her hairpins, as though she had not noticed the billowing silence.

'Afterwards, we just laughed it off really. We were both quite embarrassed and I don't think either of us had expected it to happen. It was more friendly than anything romantic to be honest…' Nalia sighed, continuing in a way that sounded both brisk and slightly sad. 'Then he left with his knight and I was sent to St Hilaria's but a few months later. I do not know what made me think of it after so long… Would you like me to comb your hair out?'

Fritha frowned slightly, wondering what had prompted her offer when she realised the mess of her curls now at her shoulders and she shook her head, hurriedly pinning it back up.

'No, no, I can't be bothered at the moment. I'll battle with it in the morning.' She yawned, straightening to stretch out her back, 'I really should drink something other than wine before I sleep.'

Nalia smiled, the soft look still to her eyes as she stood, stooping to pulling on her stockings and boots

'Come, we can take tea downstairs before we retire –_and_ see what Aerie and Haer'Dalis are up to.'

Fritha laughed, slipping on her sandals to follow her out.

xxx

Anomen took another drink, the tavern quiet about him though the moon was barely risen. Jaheira and Minsc had left just as the rains had stopped, going out to experience nature, or some such nonsense, Aerie and Haer'Dalis leaving soon after, and he had been alone for the last couple of hours.

Not that he minded really. He had found it difficult to be in company of late, and though he was slowly improving, the tension that existed between Jaheira and the tiefling that evening was not making things any easier.

Anomen sighed, listening as the forest outside groaned and creaked in the wind, the way it whistled down the chimney shrill and almost melodious. He paused, his cup halfway to his mouth as he suddenly realised it was not the wind at all, but singing and Anomen glanced up to see Fritha appear on the stairs with Nalia, the pair clattering down into the tavern.

'_Oh matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match, find me a find, catch me a catch!_'

Fritha had an empty bottle of wine in one hand, the girl tripping lightly over to his table and grinning as she threw herself into the chair next to him.

'Hello Anomen. Oh, I feel positively squiffy,' she sighed in quite a good likeness of Nalia, the girl herself laughing gently as she stepped up behind the chair, Fritha dropping her head back to look up at her as the young woman spoke.

'Right, I'm going to fetch some tea, dearest; would you like anything, Anomen?'

He shook his head and Nalia nodded once, stooping briefly to kiss the top of her head before sweeping off to the bar, the girl she left straightening with a sigh.

'So,' began Anomen, trying to sound stern as he eyed the empty bottle Fritha had set on the table, '_what_ have you two been doing?'

'Oh, nothing much. Drinking, singing, gossiping about _boys_,' Fritha finished with a wicked laugh before she sighed again, resting her flushed face upon her hand, her grin lessening to the half-smile she sometimes wore which always made her look both contented and sad at the same time.

'So where is everyone?' asked Nalia as she arrived back at the table, setting down the teapot and cups and taking a seat, 'I thought Aerie and Haer'Dalis were down here with you.'

Anomen shook his head.

'No, they left to walk out a short time after you did, and when they returned went straight upstairs.'

'I wished we'd known,' sighed Fritha, sending him an apologetic look as she took her first sip of tea, 'we'd have come down earlier if we'd known you were on your own.'

'It is fine, my lady. I was enjoying the peace.'

'Ah, well, best we weren't about then,' the girl smirked into her cup, Nalia sending her glance before asking with a deliberate nonchalance, 'So, how did Aerie and Haer'Dalis seem before they left?'

Fritha rolled her eyes. 'Oh, Nalia, not this again.'

'There's no harm in getting another's perspective,' the girl dismissed before turning to him once more, 'So, how did they seem?'

Anomen frowned. 'Well, as they usually do, my lady. Why? Is something wrong?'

'No, no nothing's wrong, Anomen,' Fritha smiled, shaking her head. 'Aerie has just become very reticent to speak of their relations lately and Nalia is worried for them, the course of true love never running smooth, and all that.'

Anomen gave the pair a stern look.

'Really, is it any of your business?' he reproached but Fritha merely laughed.

'Goodness Anomen, if everyone kept their interest only in their own affairs the world would be very dull indeed.'

Anomen sighed and shook his head, trying not to smile as he turned the conversation to more relevant matters.  
'So, have you given any thought as to what could be behind the corruption of this local wolf pack? I believe the temple is the most likely source, perhaps it is dedicated to some ancient dark power.'

Fritha shrugged. 'Perhaps, or it could have been taken over by another sect. Malar, or the like. I suppose we will find out once we get there.'

Anomen nodded. 'Indeed. According to the innkeep, the temple is over a day's journey north; we should be prepared to camp out with the knowledge these beasts are abroad.'

Nalia sighed, looking downhearted; something Fritha did not fail to notice.

'Dearest?'

'Oh, it is nothing, foolish really. I- I am just finding it difficult to accustom myself with sleeping out of doors, especially now it is getting colder.'

'Well, that's nothing to be ashamed about,' said Fritha with an understanding smile, 'I've been doing it for almost a year now and I'm still not much keen on it either. It's not so much the cold, but I hate that feeling you get sometimes when you are lying there, the fire at your back and making the darkness you are facing seem all the darker, and you can't seem to help but imagine all the twisting creatures it could be hiding. I never sleep properly.'

Anomen swallowed; he doubted _he_ would from now on and by the look of Nalia she was right there with him. He had never been very comfortable out in the wild, and he wasn't sure whether the idea the two girls were just as uneasy made him feel better or worse.  
Fritha sighed, glancing up from her cup and she must have noticed their expressions for she laughed embarrassedly.

'Oh, I'm sorry, I'm not helping, am I. Well,' she continued, draining her cup and tugging affectionately on Nalia's sleeve as she rose, 'we had better sleep well tonight if we are not going to get much tomorrow. And don't you be staying up too late either, Anomen,' she scolded playfully.

He smiled wryly and dipped his head in acquiescence.

'No, my lady. Goodnight.'


	33. Darkness falls

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Darkness falls**

Haer'Dalis shifted, the leaves beneath the cloak he was sat upon rustling as he inched closer to the fire. The group had set out early that morning, moving northwards through the gloaming forests, Minsc or Jaheira halting them now and then to consider the tracks they came across, though they saw no sign of any creature as they travelled over the rough terrain.

Night had fallen much sooner than expected and they had made camp as best they could in the press of trees, the group huddled awkwardly about a small fire as the darkness closed in about them. Haer'Dalis glanced about the circle, their numbers only five now while Minsc and Anomen were off walking the surrounding forests, checking all was still clear before they bedded down for the night.

Haer'Dalis let his gaze fall upon the woman next to him, Jaheira frowning as she stared into the flames. The druid had grown increasingly agitated as the day lengthened and now night was upon them he could practically see her twitching in her own skin. Haer'Dalis sighed. He could understand her discomfort; even he could sense the unnatural air of the forest about them.

It reminded him of Niflheim in the Grey Wastes. The troupe had been travelling back to Sigil when an ill-summoned portal sent them careening into the second level of Hades; a hopeless miserable place where apathy hung in the air like the ever present mists.  
There had been a forest there too and one not unlike this one. Twisted sickly trees stretching for leagues in all directions, empty save for the beasts that prowled in search of unwary travellers.

They had managed to find the way to the gatetown and return to Sigil after a few days, but for some it was too late. Laedrith, a promising young actor who had always been of a melancholic disposition contracted a bout of the greys. They took him from that plane as quickly as they could, but he was never really the same afterwards, taking no pleasure in the performances which had once been his highest joy, and he would spend any spare moment in the Laughing Succubus tavern behind the theatre. He drank himself to death within the year.  
Haer'Dalis sighed. As the raven would often say, such is life, and there were reasons he lived only for the moment.

He leant back on his pack and stretched his legs out before him, the muscles still aching slightly from the day's walk. The inky sky was visible through the dark web of branches above him and for a moment he let the sounds of the camp fade as he lost himself in the glittering vastness of it. There were no stars above Sigil; no moon either. He had travelled the planes for years now and he had never found anything he would rate higher than that glorious confusion of a city, but he was coming to realise that there were certain aspects to the Prime that bore merit.

And as though the thought of it prompted him, Haer'Dalis dropped his eyes to take in the three girls sat opposite him. The day had been a long and dark one but still they seemed to find the will to keep bright and the sight was heartening; Sigil was not a place for the innocent and those who were did not remain so for long.

Fritha and Nalia were weaving garlands of the fallen leaves, Fritha eschewing the glue Nalia had produced from her bag for the task, the raven trying to coax out some magic to bind hers instead, though by her tired frown Haer'Dalis considered she was probably enjoying little success.

And then there was his dove, the jewel of them all, sat next to them and practising her embroidery. He smiled as he watched her, a slight frown creasing her brow as her silk tangled, Nalia pausing a moment to look it over before gently informing her it would more than likely have to be unpicked and Aerie gave up, throwing the hoop into her bag with a frustrated sigh and finally glancing up to catch his eye. She smiled, moving across to sit next to him and pressing in close as he threw his cloak about them both.

'How goes it, my love?' he asked, gesturing to her bag and the elf sighed.

'Oh, fine. The girls make it look so easy. Nalia says I am making good progress but I cannot see as such myself. I suppose I shall just have to be patient.'

Haer'Dalis smiled slightly as his mind drifted back to their last evening in Athkatla.

'Yes, that is often the way of things.'

The girl had been nervous about him visiting her circus, though trying to hide it beneath her usual smile, and when all had gone well she had seemed almost drunk with relief. They had walked out afterwards, over to the temple district to sit and watch the canals beneath them, silver under the moon, the air thrumming with the murmur of services in the surrounding churches. And it was there as the bells sounded midnight that she had kissed him, and not innocently either but with an intensity that was surprising, though the girl had seemed more than shy of herself by the time they had returned to the inn. It was the same even then, the previous evening's ardour leading into a day of shy looks and reluctance.

He did not mind though. Aerie was an interesting confusion of burning passions and repressive mores; she would come to him again in time. An occasion made all the sweeter by the wait.

He smiled, glancing up as light laughter drifted over the campfire, Nalia giggling at Fritha who was sat holding up a very bedraggled garland, her lap full of leaves. Fritha caught his eye and smiled, heaving a sigh when suddenly her breath seemed to catch, the girl swallowing furiously as she tried to stifle it.

Haer'Dalis smiled. Fritha had been very subdued all day, the girl walking at the back of the group with Nalia, hiding her pale drawn face in her sleeve as she coughed quietly and he had a feeling her little jaunt in the rain may have had some unwelcome consequences.

'Are you okay, Fritha?' asked Aerie, the elf rising from her place next to him to move to her side, Jaheira sending the pair a suspicious look.

'I'm fine, Aerie, honestly,' the girl answered in a strangled voice, batting the hand away from her forehead, but the elf was too quick.

'Oh, you feel really warm, I-I think you've got a fever.'

'By Silvanus,' snapped Jaheira, looking as though she had been waiting for this moment, 'and I wonder why _that_ is.'

Fritha shot Aerie a look and sighed.

'It's nothing, Jaheira, just a sore throat.'

But Jaheira did not appear to be listening.

'Foolish girl, dancing about in the rain like an idiot! Well, I've not an ounce of sympathy for you, not one!' she announced and promptly began to root in her pack, adding various herbs to water that still hung simmering over the fire, muttering darkly and from what he could gather, Fritha had suffered with something similar but months before and the druid's worries that it would take firm hold were high, though it was not a fear Fritha shared.

'Oh, it's my own fault, Aerie, don't fuss,' she sighed as the girl hovered over her with an anxious look. 'Besides, Jaheira's cooking me up a caudle,' she added with a roguish grin and the druid rolled her eyes, Aerie moving back to sit beside him and watch her work.

'Here, drink this,' Jaheira ordered at last, ladling out a cupful of the mixture and handing it too Fritha, the girl straightening to receive it, taking a sip and clearly fighting hard not to spit it immediately out again.

'Ah, Jaheira,' she gasped, holding the cup at arms length, 'this stuff is vile! I'd rather be ill.'

The druid raised an eyebrow to a background of laughter.

'As you wish,' she replied in clipped tones, moving to retrieve it and Fritha seemed to enjoy an instantaneous change of heart.

'No, no, no,' she retracted hastily, drawing back to cup it with both hands, 'I'm sorry, it's lovely. Thank you, Jaheira. Mmm, yum…'

She forced her face into a smile and took another drink, which turned instantly to a grimace as soon as the druid's attention shifted, Fritha physically shuddering as she forced down another mouthful. Haer'Dalis grinned.

'Poor sick raven, was your hour of pleasure worth a tenday of plague?'

Fritha said nothing, but the look she sent him over the rim of her cup could have killed lesser men and he laughed, Aerie tutting reproachfully. 'Haer'Dalis.'

He turned his smile upon her.

'To take joy in the entropy at work is in my nature, my dove, but perhaps you can distract me from it with pleasures of another sort.' The girl coloured and it was all he could do not to laugh as he continued kindly, 'shall we work some more on our play?'

For an instant Aerie looked relieved before she sighed and certain weariness settled over her.

'Not now please, I am tired and I find it difficult to concentrate.'

'As you will, but you should not be too focused in any instance; you must feel the role, my dove, lest the performance feel too practised.'

'Yes, yes…' she snapped, shaking her head as she added remorsefully, 'I am sorry, Haer'Dalis, I know you are only trying to help. I am just finding it harder than expected. This character I must play, she is so unlike me. Can't we try something else?'

And that was why he had chosen it; something to bring the girl out of herself and free the fires he knew she had hidden within her. Haer'Dalis shook his head, putting an arm about her shoulders.

'Nay, my dove, I have every confidence that you shall master this role and feel all the better for doing so.'

Aerie looked downcast but did not refute it and he continued more gently, 'But let us put this aside for now, the day has been a long one and I can see it is distressing you.'

She nodded, leaning into him slightly and a comfortable silence fell over them, Haer'Dalis allowing his attention to drift over to the pair opposite.

Fritha had finished her tonic by now and given up on her garland too by the look of it, clearly deciding since her secret was out she no longer needed to pretend she was well, Nalia seemingly content to lay down her own work as well, and the two were together, Fritha laid with her head resting in the girl's lap.

Haer'Dalis smiled, tightening his arm about the girl next to him, wondering when Aerie would feel comfortable enough to let him act with such affection in company. He watched them, Fritha looking half asleep as Nalia absently combed her fingers through the curls at her temple. And such from the girl who had shied from his merest touch; the primes were very odd.

xxx

Jaheira swallowed dryly, her heart racing as she pushed her way through the tangle of branches, the only life to that forest the gusts of wind that groaned through canopy above them. Minsc was just a silhouette a pace or so before her, the others following close behind them as they walked the last mile or so to the temple ruins, all silent and Jaheira knew even the least perceptive among them could sense the aberration of that place.

It was mid morning, not that it was apparent, the forests darkening to a perpetual twilight as they had continued their journey northwards; not the clear deep darkness of night, but different, somehow hazier, as though a veil of shadows had been thrown over the world. Another gust of wind and somewhere behind her the crack of timber caused more than one person to start, the others' nerves merely serving to heighten her own. Hardly anyone had slept that night, Jaheira spending her guard watching the others laid about her, their eyes reflecting in the firelight, every now and then the sound of distant wolf calls sending a shiver over the camp.

There had been no sign of the creatures yet that morning though, even as they closed upon the ruins, but still she could not shake the feeling that they were being watched and Jaheira kept alert for any sound or movement that would give them away, every nerve straining until she felt alive with it. She sighed, her shoulders aching with the tension in her. They should be reaching the temple soon according to Merella's map, though the forest was so dense and dark it turned out they were almost upon the place before she noticed.

A glimpse of blue-grey stone through the gloom and the group finally found themselves in a clearing that was easily half the size of the village, the ruins of what once must have been a huge structure sat dead within it.

Uneven steps led up into the temple and Jaheira ascended with the others to find herself in a large square bordered on three sides by a hatching of crumbling walls, the place as lifeless as the surrounding forests and silent bar the wind that howled through the broken stonework, catching up the fallen leaves to send them scuttling across the square.

Jaheira frowned slightly. Merella had written of inhabitants, but where were they staying? There wasn't enough of the ruins left to live in by the look of things.

She followed the others across the courtyard, the cobbles underfoot a mess of wolf tracks just as Merella's cabin had been, Fritha pausing to consider an arid fountain, the cracked basin full of dead leaves.

'Look at this,' she began, pointing to the pattern of sunbursts carved about the rim, her voice rustling like the leaves being swept about the square. 'The symbol of Amaunator.'

Anomen raised an eyebrow and Jaheira could read his thoughts on his face as she glanced about the decaying ruins; she could not think of anywhere less likely to be dedicated to the ancient sun god.

'You are sure, my lady?'

The girl just nodded though and the squire frowned, his hand moving unconsciously to the chain at his neck as he cast a wary gaze about them.

'Then this place must have been corrupted.'

'And most powerfully too,' murmured Aerie, shivering slightly as another gust of wind howled through the ruins, only the howling did not fade this time.

'Wolves!' screamed Nalia an arrow already nocked and Jaheira whirled to see a score of the dark shaggy creatures suddenly prowling from the empty ruins as though stepping from the shadows themselves.

The group moved instinctively together, their backs facing inward and weapons drawn, everyone casting about for some sort of shelter, though the wolves seemed everywhere.

Jaheira felt her grip on her staff tighten as they closed in. The beasts looked half dead, as though they had not eaten for days, their black fur matted with filth and blood. They prowled about them just out of reach of their weapons, an uneasy stand-off until suddenly one lunged and chaos erupted. Nalia took the first down with an arrow, Minsc killing another, its body scattering others as it was flung backwards. Jaheira caught one sharply across its front legs, clearly breaking bones and she was horrified to see the creature pick itself up to stagger back ready to attack again.

What was making them act like this? Even dire wolves still followed their instincts, retreating when outclassed or wounded and the druid suddenly realised that the wolves would fight until one group was dead, and by the numbers of them still creeping from the ruins to join the fight, Jaheira did not like to think which it would be.

The wolves were becoming more reckless now, almost frenzied, the creature throwing themselves forward regardless of their weapons. A large female leapt at her and Jaheira swung out, knocking it backwards, whirling to catch a second across the muzzle and it was then she saw them, just visible in the jumble of paw prints and leaves.

Tracks. And not wolves', but of a man and leading straight to-

'A trapdoor! Everyone, over here!' she screamed, breaking from the group to tear over to it before they were completely overwhelmed, falling into a crouch to heave at the heavy iron ring, one hand still tightly gripped about her staff. A set of stone steps swung into view, leading down into the darkness and she did not even have time to consider whether what could be down there was worse than what they were escaping.

'In, now!' she shouted as Fritha arrived, Haer'Dalis and the girls a second behind her as Minsc and Anomen protected their retreat, and there was a flurry of movement as they raced past her, Jaheira flying down the steps after them; the last thing she saw, a myriad of snapping jaws as the trapdoor slammed closed.

Jaheira drew a breath, trying to calm the wild beating of her heart, the idea of finding nature so corrupted unsettling in a way she could not describe. The others were pressed in about her in the darkness, still panting from the run, Fritha's hoarse coughing echoing somewhere beneath her and Jaheira did not need to see the girl to know she was brought double with it.

The druid closed her eyes, taking a moment to centre herself and call forth a light, opening them to find others had done the same, a winding passage of blue-grey stone stretching off before them and flickering in the mingled glow of their werelights.

'So this was where Merella meant when she spoke of the temple being inhabited again,' said Nalia and Jaheira realised she too must have been wondering about the lack of structures in the ruins above.

'Well, I hope they _are_ the ones controlling the wolves,' sighed Fritha, the girl finally having caught her breath, 'because I don't think we'll have an easy time fighting our way out through that.'

The group turned as one to look up at the trapdoor, their only known means of escape, the faint sound of scratching and the occasional whine drifting through the wood. Aerie swallowed.

'D-Do you think they will just grow tired and leave?'

No one spoke and Fritha sighed deeply, throwing the elf a smile that looked more like a grimace in the glow of the werelights.

'Oh well, ever onward.'

xxx

Fritha paused to pull her cloak about her more tightly, surprised to see her breath wasn't misting as she followed the others through the temple's labyrinth of passages and rooms, the place seemingly empty save for the odd grouping of wolves, some of them more shadow than beast. But they were easily driven off by Aerie or Anomen, the creatures shrinking from their holy symbols as though the mere sight of them was agony and they just trapped and left the beasts in side rooms where possible, Jaheira and Minsc against killing any animal that did not pose a direct threat.

Fritha adjusted her grip on her sword, trying to suppress the tremor in her hands as she shivered, another wave of cold passing over her. She did not know whether it was the corruption of that place or just the air down there, but she was frozen. Nalia sent her a concerned glance, her face sallow in the glow of her lantern.

'Are you well, dearest? For a moment, you looked as though someone was walking over your grave.'

Fritha snorted.

'Walking? More like dancing! It's _freezing _down here!'

Ahead of them, Anomen glanced back, his face wearing the stern look she was _more_ than accustomed to seeing lately. He had been sharp with her ever since the night before when he'd returned to camp to be informed of her illness and Fritha suspected the squire too had joined Jaheira in the opinion that she was now suffering a just reward for her previous _foolishness_.

'You are cold, my lady? Indeed, I note no one else is so afflicted; perhaps it stems from another source,' he offered mildly and she knew exactly what he was insinuating. He was probably right too, she considered crossly. Fritha sent him a dry smile.

'Yes, your manner'd be my guess.'

He coloured slightly as Nalia laughed quietly into her sleeve, but offered her his cloak all the same, Fritha refusing on the grounds that it probably _was _just because she was ill and there was no point in them both being cold.

Up ahead, Jaheira brought them to a halt, the woman pausing to examine a door they had come across, it apparently unlocked as she pushed it open and Fritha filed in with the others to find herself in a long room, though how long she could not tell, the far end still swathed in shadows. Two rows of slender columns ran the length, disappearing into the darkness as well and under the arch of each, large stone tombs rested, dusty and silent.

'A mausoleum?' came Nalia behind her and Jaheira nodded, stooping to examine the nearest grave as the others fanned out about her.

'Yes, though some look to have been tampered with. The seal on this one is broken.'

'This one as well,' came Haer'Dalis, Aerie at his side providing a light, 'it seems their final rest was not so peaceful.'

'Tomb robbers,' came Anomen, his disgust apparent.

'Well, they were very thorough then,' said Fritha, holding her lantern over the grave next to her, the stone lid cracked and left ajar, 'because this one's empty.'

A low creaking just on the edge of her hearing and everyone's attention snapped to the darkness that still hung over the rest of the room.

'What was that?'

Fritha swallowed, holding up her lantern, the others following her as she began a slow walk towards the source, the shadows parting before her until-

'Skeletons!' someone screamed as a skull suddenly lunged out of the darkness, Fritha lifting her blade just in time to sever the arm swung out at her, both it and the axe it bore clattering to the floor.

But the creature did not even seem to register the blow, Fritha poised to follow up on her attack and she was forced to dodge awkwardly as pressed on with its offence, catching her across the shoulder with its buckler, Fritha's cursing lost in the sound of splintering glass as she dropped her lantern. She took a step backwards, almost tripping over the broken lamp in her haste and bringing up her sword to slash it across the torso, the rotting leather armour it had been buried in parting easily, though again the creature did not seem to notice.

To her left, a spell flared, knocking one of the skeletons clear across the room, Aerie's face a stricken mask as it struggled to its feet again and pressed on as quickly as before.

'Magic, it- it's not working!'

'Well, ward them then!' Fritha heard the druid snap, the sound followed by a vicious crack and she suspected Jaheira was having more luck with her staff than she was with her sword.

Fritha brought her attention back to her own opponent, the pair stood, each waiting for the other to make some sort of move when it suddenly rushed forward, swinging out at her with its buckler, Fritha parrying the blow to knock the shield wide and bring her blade up to slice through its neck.

The creature finally dead, Fritha took a moment to glance about her. Haer'Dalis was fighting one, Aerie at his side with her staff, warding clearly as ineffective as her spell had been. Jaheira and Minsc seemed to fairing better though, bones of the fallen littering the ground at their feet, while Nalia stood back slightly peppering creatures with arrows for all the good it was doing.

And as for Anomen, it appeared the squire was in his element, the man ahead of her now and fighting two of the creatures, using mace and shield in perfect union to press the attack, a fine aura of dust swirling about him as he moved.

But even he would have been hard pressed to fight three at once and Fritha ran forward to engage the last skeleton before it reached him. This one was armed with a warhammer and though much heavier than an axe or sword, it swung the weapon with a brutal speed, keeping her constantly on the defensive as she waited for a window of attack.

Another wide swing at her and suddenly she saw her chance, Fritha stepping around the weapon to strike at the creatures head. But it was too fast, turning to swing out at her again as though the hammer was weightless in its hands and it was all she could do to dodge in time, the skeleton catching her a glancing blow across the chest that winded her. Fritha staggered back, suddenly unable to breath, the creature rushing forward to press the advantage when Anomen appeared at her side, swinging his mace out and its skull shattered on impact, showering her in shards of bone and dust.

Nalia rushed to her side as Fritha dropped immediately into a crouch, burying herself in knees as she coughed uncontrollably, the others slowly gathering themselves and moving in around them.

'That- that was awful,' breathed Aerie somewhere above her, the girl sounding shaken and Fritha suspected that finding her spells were useless had been a shock for her. 'Do you think there will be any more of those creatures?'

Fritha glanced up in time to see Anomen nod.

'Most likely, and we must be prepared for it.'

But it was clear that was not the answer Aerie had been hoping for and Minsc sent the elf a kind smile.

'Never would this happen in my homeland. People's spirits are released in glorious fire, on pyres even taller than Minsc. Much better, I am thinking. No evil magic can tamper with you then, eh Fritha?' he laughed.

Fritha just nodded though, unable to manage any words of comfort right at that moment. Her chest felt impossibly tight, every lungful of that cold dry air burning her throat as she fought to catch her breath.

The others spread out to check the remaining tombs, Nalia at her side as she shuffled back to lean against the wall, trying to stop coughing long enough to take drink of the syrup Jaheira had brewed her early that morning. The woman had surpassed herself in managing to make something which tasted worse than the previous night's concoction, though the way she felt at the moment, Fritha would have drunk anything the druid gave her if she said it would make her feel better, although it had meant she'd wasted the last of her water that morning in attempts to take the taste away. And as though on cue, another pair of boots joined Nalia's and Fritha straightened to see the frowning face of Jaheira.

'Really, Fritha, listen to you!' she sighed, taking her chin to peer critically down her throat as Fritha gasped and spluttered, 'Have you been taking the linctus I gave you?'

'Yes, yes,' Fritha dismissed, batting her hand away and taking a quick mouthful, 'it's just a cold, Jaheira. Stop twisting on, I'm fine.'

Fritha sighed, smiling instantly at how less than fine she sounded as her voice cracked and wavered. 'Gods, I need a bell, don't I,' she laughed hoarsely. 'Unclean! Unclean!'

'For the love of Silvanus, you are making it worse!' Jaheira scolded as her mirth soon descended into another bout of coughing, Nalia sighing tersely as she rubbed her back.

'For goodness sake, Jaheira, she's taking your linctus; leave her alone.'

'Yes,' Jaheira snapped, whirling on the girl, 'and she should have been drinking it _yesterday_. If you were her friend you would have told me of this illness as soon as you knew.'

Nalia coloured and Fritha felt her stomach tighten.

'Leave off, Jaheira,' she croaked, straightening with some difficulty to send the woman a frown, 'this is no one's fault but mine. I asked Nalia not to say anything.'

Jaheira was looking back and forth between them, Fritha squaring up to her gaze and next to her she sensed Nalia doing the same, when suddenly the woman was shaking her head and Fritha was surprised to see she was smiling.

'Well, at least you stand united- even if it is in _idiocy_. Just make sure to tell me if she gets any worse,' the druid continued to Nalia sternly, the girl assuring her she would as the woman stalked off, leaving the pair staring bewilderedly after her.

'What was that all about?' asked Nalia. Fritha shook her head.

'Haven't a clue.'

'Nalia, could you come and check something for me, please?' called Aerie from the far end room and Nalia looked torn. Fritha sent her a smile.

'Go on, you go. I'll stay here and take my medicine.'

Nalia nodded, moving off to help the elf, Fritha leaning back against the cold wall and closing her eyes as she took another drink of the astringent syrup, unable to suppress a shudder as she swallowed.

'The Adder's Root blend?' came a voice at her shoulder and she opened her eyes to find Anomen stood over her, eyeing the bottle in her hand. 'Yes, that one is rather bitter-'

'Yes, yes, I know; _all my own fault_,' Fritha sighed, screwing up her courage for another mouthful, Anomen watching her drink with a contemplative look.

'Here,' he said eventually, opening his flask to pass it to her and she took a long grateful draft, cold water soothing her throat in a way nothing else could.

'Thank you,' she sighed with a tired smile, moving to hand the flask back to him, though he shook his head, indicating for her to keep it as he continued, his manner warmer than it had been in a long time.

'Not at all. I had worried whether your staying out in the storm would not be something you would later regret. I only hope this experience will serve to show you that such careless diversions usually hold hidden detriments, and ones not favourable for the life we must lead.'

'What?' she began with a laugh at his paternal tone, a stern look from Jaheira stifling it as she continued. 'Anomen, I only went out in the rain and got wet.'

The squire frowned, his air of concern waning.

'Yes, and suffering for it now, I see.'

'And? It's only a bit of a cold, Anomen. Gods, you wear that armour like a shell!' she laughed, rapping lightly on his breastplate for good measure. 'So I went out in the rain playing silly devils. So? It was a wonderful experience. And now I am sick and that's an experience too; admittedly not as enjoyable, and the timing could have been better, but I would not sacrifice one to save me from the other.'

But Anomen clearly did not appreciate this unrepentant standpoint.

'And have you no thought as to how this affects anyone else? All night I had to listen to you rattle and cough!'

Fritha swallowed, her smile fading on her face, and for all her sickness, it was only then she felt truly awful.

'I'm sorry,' she said quietly, guilt squirming in her stomach, 'I didn't realise I'd kept you awake.'

Anomen paused, a look of intense indecision passing across his face before he slowly admitted, 'You- you did not. I was awake anyway, I could not sleep… But that is not the point-'

'Well, what is it then?' she snapped, her guilt quickly turning to annoyance at this perceived attempt to trick some remorse from her. 'If the only person suffering by this is me and I think it's worth it, what does it matter?'

'Er, Fritha, could you come and look at something, please…' called Aerie tentatively from the other end of the room. Fritha sighed and shook her head, more than glad of an excuse to end the quarrel.

'Thank you for the water,' she said briskly, with as much geniality as she could muster, Anomen's reply just as clipped.

'You are quite welcome.' And with that, they parted.

Fritha walked up to find the girls stood before a section of wall between two pillars and examining a panel of intricate carvings.

'What is it?'

Aerie glanced back to her and shook her head.

'I don't know. I- I just sense something here. I thought perhaps it was some kind of magical trap at first, but Nalia can't find anything.'

Fritha took a step closer. The familiar sunburst of Amaunator was carved above a table of sixteen tiles that looked as though they could be removed and all baring a different symbol.

'Well, they're all characters in Old Draconic. See, that's light… life… I think that one's book, or perhaps joy…'

'So, it is some sort of puzzle then?' came Nalia eagerly, 'We have to put them in the correct order?'

Fritha shrugged.

'Looks like. So we've got light, life, joy…'

And Fritha set about translating the rest as best she could remember, though she freely admitted she was guessing a lot of them, the girls between them deciding on the order with much swapping about and changing of minds, until they finally decided, their disappointment palpable as they placed the last tile in and nothing happened, before Nalia suddenly remembered that, outside of books, Draconic was usually written from top to bottom.

A moment to rearrange the tiles and finally Aerie was fitting the last tentatively into place, the three starting backwards as the sound of ancient clockwork groaned somewhere below them and the whole wall slid away to reveal a small circular room, the walls lined with tables and shelves all covered in a dusty collection of books and jars.

Together they stepped inside, Fritha moving to leaf through the nearest tome, while Nalia set to examining a tray of narrow iron instruments on one of the tables. Aerie took the lid from a large stone jar, replacing it immediately as the rich woody scent of olibanum filled the air.

'I- I think this must have been where they prepared the bodies of those people buried out there.'

A clatter as Nalia instantly dropped the long iron hook she'd been examining, Fritha smiling as she held open her book to show the elf some strange diagrams she had just found.

'Here, what do you make of these?' she asked, Aerie leaning forward to take it, a curtain of flaxen hair falling across her shoulder and Nalia suddenly cried, 'Is- is that…?'

The elf straightened, looking embarrassed but Fritha had seen it too, a small violet stain upon her neck, Nalia's amusement mirroring her own as the girl continued incredulously, 'Aerie, is that a _lovebite_?'

Aerie said nothing, stunned to silence, but her blush spoke volumes and the two girls broke out into raucous laughter.

'It isn't! It's a bruise, truly! Oh be quiet, you two!'

'Lovebites!' cried Nalia, still laughing, 'What about all that "Oh, we don't really kiss, we just hold hands and talk"!'

Fritha grinned.

'No, no kissing, they just skipped straight to the good stuff! Ah, grotts of all things; and I thought you were such a nice girl, Aerie.'

'Grotts?' came Nalia and Fritha nodded brightly.

'Yes, that's what we call them up in the Heartlands. It's slang, probably some contraction of garrotte. Hmm, it does look a bit like someone's tried to strangle you. Let's ask the man himself shall we?' Fritha teased, turning to draw a fractured breath as though to call for Haer'Dalis and Aerie leapt in with a shriek to clamp a hand over her mouth, Nalia left breathless with laughter.

'What _are_ you three-?' came a familiar terse voice, Jaheira stepping into view and trailing off as she stared about her. 'A hidden room…' she said eventually, looking rather impressed and Fritha sent the girls a grin.

'_We three_ were hard at work, as you can see.'

Jaheira snorted.

'I'll never see the day- wait, what is this?' she continued a concern creeping into her voice and all three turned to a plain narrow table in the back of the room, a small muslin-wrapped bundle upon it and overlooked in the surrounding chaos of scrolls and bottles.

'Isn't that-?'

It was. The bones of a child, still wrapped in its burial shroud and Fritha suspected by its size it had probably reached no older than four years when it had lived.

The girl moved closer and it was only then she noticed the circle of runes that were painted roughly around it, a feeling of cold worse than any she had yet experienced washing over her as she reached the table. She did not think and could not say later why she had done it, just quickly reached out to snatch the bundle up, ice piercing right to her heart.

'Fritha!' snapped Jaheira as it brought her double, Nalia at her side in an instant.

'Are you all right?'

'Yes, just- just cold,' Fritha gasped as she straightened and the three gathered around her, all staring down at the bones cradled in her arms, the skull looking almost alive in the flicker of their lights.

'Who do you think it was?' asked Nalia, her voice suddenly little more than a whisper. Fritha shook her head, moving the bundle gently into the crook of her arm as she parted the shroud slightly to reveal a treasure of bracelets and pendants in amber and gold.

'I don't know, but they must have been important; look, they were buried in a dragon's hoard.'

'It feels powerful,' came Aerie quietly, 'and- and good. I can't describe it…'

Jaheira nodded decisively.

'Well, it clearly doesn't belong in here, in any case.'

'No, and all the tombs outside were spoken for,' agreed Fritha. 'Come on, it can come with us.'

She moved a hand up to the clasp of her cloak with the intention of making a sling, feeling it would be somewhat disrespectful just to push the bones into her bag. But Nalia noticed what she was doing and beat her to it, ignoring her protests to take off her own cloak and lay it on the ground, Jaheira folding it this way and that before they gently laid down the child and gathered it up to be slung across Aerie's back.

Fritha smiled, feeling oddly protective over the tomb-worn bundle.

'Come on, little one, we'll soon have you back at rest.'

xxx

Deeper into the ruins they went, continuing their search for the inhabitants and a source to the corruption there. Anomen could sense the evil of the place, the unnatural air of darkness that hung over them as they explored room after room, most emptied by scavengers but still recognisable as storerooms of sorts, all dusty weapon racks and empty bookcases, and he wondered if the place had not once been similar to the temple-school where he trained to become a cleric.

They were currently walking along a narrow corridor, the curve of the passage and the ever-present shadows making it difficult to see what was up ahead. Anomen readjusted his grip on his mace, glad for the familiar weight of it in his hand as they continued on. At least the way had become easier since the addition of that child's remains to their group, the wolves now fleeing from their mere presence. The undead that wandered the place were still proving to be a problem though, especially in that they seemed both immune to the effects of the remains and their own warding.

Up ahead a hoarse coughing started him from his thoughts. Fritha was still trying to catch her breath from their last skirmish, the sound of it putting his teeth on edge. All night he'd had to listen to her; laid there, the only sounds the crackle of the fire and Fritha's rattling cough, a laboured pained sound that went right through him.

He had tried to be sympathetic before, but the words had not come out as he'd planned and her lack of repentance had annoyed him. He had almost been tempted to let her continue in her belief that she kept them all awake that night, if only to make her rethink her foolishness and save herself from something similar in the future. But it would have been untruthful and now he was reaping the rewards for his honesty, the girl as obstinate as ever.

Anomen frowned, almost hoping they would happen upon another group of skeletons, if only so he could vent his frustrations on them. But the passage remained empty and they walked on for another few moments before finally reaching a door, Minsc pushing it open after Nalia had picked the lock and Anomen found himself walking down a set of stairs into a huge arena, columned archways stacked one upon the other and rising up to an open roof, a dark starless sky hung overhead.

And then from the shadows he heard it, a low guttural growl, two steady wisps of smoke rising without a kink in the still air as a voice rasped, 'Welcome fleshlings.'


	34. Here be dragons

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Here be dragons**

'Welcome, fleshlings…'

Fritha swallowed, trying to find a voice in her dry throat. She had a pretty good idea of what was addressing them, the still air tinged with the scent of smoke and sulphur, though her speculation was rendered unnecessary as the creature moved from the shadows and the group were suddenly face to face with a large black dragon. Fritha had never seen such a creature outside of books and for a moment all she could do was watch it, its claws tapping lightly on the tiled floor as it settled again, coiling itself in its own spiny tale, deep yellow eyes coolly surveying them from over the tip and putting her in mind of a huge scaly cat.

'Greetings,' she began politely, taking what was admittedly a small step forward, 'I am Fritha. We are here looking for the source of the local corruption and, er…'

'And you wonder if it I?' it finished for her with a throaty chuckle. 'I was as much a slave as the beasts and bones that roam this place until you brought the child here.'

'The child?' came Aerie behind her and Fritha could hear the hollow chink of the bones the elf was carrying, 'You know of it?'

The dragon nodded slowly.

'Yes, I can sense her; even in death her bones hold a power to be reckoned with. Long ago this temple was built to seal a rift which had opened between the Prime and the Plane of Shadows. The faith of the Eternal Sun was strong back then and the wards well-maintained by the priests that worshiped here. But over the centuries the faith of the Yellow God waned across Faerûn and the wards here weakened. The child you hold, elf, was a prophetess, born of Amaunator and mortal woman to work his will upon the earth and save a dying religion. Only she came too late. She was killed when just a child in an attack by a rival temple, oh, a thousand years ago now.'

'And how do you know all this?' asked Jaheira and Fritha did not need to see her face to imagine the distrustful frown that was undoubtedly there.

'Look about you,' the creature growled, gesturing to the nearest pillar with its long snout and Fritha could just make out carvings in the gloom, weathered pictures surrounded by more Draconic script. 'The fool priests built this chamber to tell the story, a last act of faith for their dying god.' The dragon sighed in a bored sort of way, its leathery wings rustling. 'I have been here so long I could recite it for you word for word had I the inclination.'

'But what _is_ the source of the corruption then?' continued Fritha quickly, 'Who trapped you here, who is controlling the wolves and poisoning the forests?'

The dragon snorted contemptuously, engulfed for a moment in a thick puff of smoke as it sent a dark look to the large doorway to its left.

'I do not know its true name, the jumped-up little shadow merely calls itself the _Shade Lord_. When the wards here were finally weak enough to allow such an insignificant creature to penetrate them, it slipped through from our plane. Usually, it would have been little threat to this plane of light, but then it discovered the child and the power her bones still held. It managed to corrupt that power, harnessing it for its own ends, summoning me as guardian and controlling the local wolves. Through them it learnt of the ranger and once it had secured her as a corporeal body its power only grew.'

'Then Merella is still alive?' confirmed Jaheira, but the dragon shook its head.

'Only in the most basic sense. Her body still lives, but she is no more than a puppet of the shade now. _Pathetic creature!_ It plays with powers beyond its ken, spending its time in the adjoining chamber engaged in its petty plans for conquest. I believe its next mark is the local village, though it will not now get the chance.'

Fritha nodded once.

'Indeed. Our thanks, sir.' She dipped a quick bow, more than keen to leave the creature's presence. 'Farewell.'

But the dragon merely smiled broadly and Fritha felt the hairs on the back of her neck begin to prickle.

'Oh, no, no, no, you misunderstand me. Your taking the child from the ritual circle will have weakened the shade, though I doubt it even realises it yet, and, eager though I am to return to my own plane, it is _I_ who will destroy that little upstart for the indignity of enslaving me. But not before I have ended _your _lives. Prepare yourselves for death, fleshlings!'

The dragon reared back, suddenly towering above them on its hind legs, jaws opened wide and Fritha stumbled backwards, the group behind her beginning to scatter as a burst of dark blue fire roared from its mouth, only to be deflected harmlessly to either side as Aerie threw up her hands, a shimmering barrier instantly appearing above them.

The dragon gave a frustrated snarl, snaking its head down to bite at the elf, though it met Minsc's blade instead, the ranger stepping in to slash his sword across its muzzle, the creature shrieking in pain as it drew back.

In the meantime, the others had managed to gather themselves, Anomen joining Minsc before the creature, both keeping its snapping jaws away from Aerie who was already working frantically on another spell, Haer'Dalis and Fritha weaving nimbly past its claws to attack the creature's flanks and keep it distracted. Nalia was stood further back trying to pepper the creature with arrows though the majority merely glanced off its thick hide, Jaheira stood next to her, hands raised as she chanted to the featureless grey sky above them and Fritha felt the familiar crackle of static in her hair; she knew what was coming.

The dragon roared as lightning suddenly split the air with a crack to strike it, the beast unfurling its wings, the downdraft making it difficult to keep their footing as it rose jerkily into the air, its jaws opening wide and Nalia could see dark smoke issuing from its snout as it prepared another blast of fire. She held her bow ready, trying to ignore the mounting urgency, the chaos about her suddenly muted as she waited for the perfect shot.

With a move that was more instinct than thought she released the string, an arrow streaking upwards to pierce deep into a wing joint, the dragon howling as it plunged to the ground once more, scattering the group beneath it, Anomen pulling the still casting Aerie clear as it hit the stone tiles.

For a moment it lay stunned and the group surged in with hopes to overwhelm it. But the dragon seemed ready for this, heaving itself onto all fours to frantically snap and claw at anything that came within range, its panic almost palpable and making the creature all the more dangerous. Another rumble overhead and Fritha glanced up, preparing to get clear once she saw the lightning spark, though she was not the only one to have noticed.

The dragon roared, sweeping out its tail at them wildly and the druid leapt back with a curse, her spell lost. She was much faster than some though, Minsc jumping back to fall heavily on his hip while the tip of its tail caught Aerie sharply across the chest, throwing the elf backwards onto the tiles where she lay still and did not make to rise.

A fact not unnoticed by the dragon and it pressed forward towards the girl, heedless of the others as they moved to defend her, the beast knocking Anomen aside with its snout and sweeping the tiefling away with another flick its tail, set upon her death it seemed.

Fritha rushed forward, her only thought how she could distract the creature before it reached Aerie, holding her sword high to bring it down into the joint where its back leg met its body and sinking the blade in to the hilt. The dragon shrieked, shaking her off and pain seared along the right side of her face as she was thrown across the tiled floor, the girl rolling onto her feet before she had even stopped sliding.

'Fritha!' screamed Nalia, at her side in an instant and they both looked up as the dragon whirled to them, dragging its back leg where Fritha could still see her sword protruding awkwardly from the joint. But it seemed to be ignoring this in its rage, the creature drawing its head back to tower over them, its now bloody jaws opening once more.

Fritha had already turned to run for all the good it would do, her hand closed tight about Nalia's wrist as she went to pull the girl with her but Nalia resisted and Fritha glanced back to see her reach frantically into her back to remove a small leather pouch, the girl wrapping the ties loosely about the arrow she had already nocked to shoot it streaking into the creature's yawing red mouth.

For a moment nothing seemed to happen, the dragon still looming over them when there was a sudden flash light, a deafening roar filling the air as blue flames engulfed the creature's head, the chamber shuddering with the force of an explosion that threw them all to the ground.

Nalia looked up from where she lay sprawled to see the creature swaying through the smoke, its head lolling on its long neck before it fell forward on to the tiles, finally dead.

She lay still a moment, trying to steady her breathing before she rose on unsteady legs, the suddenness of it all leaving her feeling dazed. Fritha was coughing heavily next to her, the girl's face and hands badly grazed from where the dragon had thrown her while, across the chamber, Anomen was already knelt by the unconscious Aerie, Haer'Dalis and Minsc rushing over to the pair and Nalia watched as Jaheira struggled to her feet as well, the druid cradling her left arm awkwardly as she stared across at her.

'What in the name of Silvanus was _that_?' she breathed, staring back and forth between her and the still smoking corpse of the dragon, its face a shattered mess of flesh and bone.

'B-Blackpower,' Nalia heard herself stammer, 'I- I brought it to the top of my bag in that first fight with the skeletons, in case we were overwhelmed…'

Jaheira just nodded though, still looking a touch faint as she turned her attention to the huddle of people behind her.

'Are you okay, dearest?' came a voice at her side and Nalia started, turning to see Fritha. The girl had finally caught her breath it seemed and was watching her with a concerned look. Nalia nodded, the words sticking in her throat.

'Yes… fine. I am fine.'

Fritha nodded once, sending her a slight smile before she too limped across to join the others at Aerie's side, retrieving her sword as she went.

'Is she all right?'

'Yes, she is merely stunned, my lady,' Anomen answered from the depths of his pack, finally surfacing with a small vial, the man removing the cork to hold it under the elf's nose. Aerie instantly began to cough and splutter, Haer'Dalis descending at this first sign of life and Fritha glanced back to Nalia with a lopsided grin, tugging gently at the sleeve of the man next to her.

'Come on Minsc, let's leave them to it.'

Jaheira gave a snort of dry amusement and Nalia tried to smile as well but it felt unpleasantly false, the group's usually easy banter suddenly unreal. She watched as the others turned from the couple to face the chamber once more, her eyes drawn unwillingly to the crumpled form of the dragon.

'Stupid beast,' Fritha sighed hoarsely, as she tentatively felt her raw face, 'why couldn't it have just been happy with its freedom?'

Jaheira frowned, crossing over to gently take the girl's chin in one hand, the druid's other arm still held awkwardly at her side.

'Here, let me see,' she soothed, though Fritha took a step back from the woman stubbornly shaking her head.

'No, no, not till your arm's been looked at. Anomen?'

The squire had already risen from his place next to Aerie and Jaheira relinquished her arm to him with the minimum of complaints.

Fritha watched the druid fondly a moment before she glanced to her with another lopsided smile, but Nalia could not return it. The sight of Jaheira stood forcefully giving her opinion to an exasperated looking Anomen was making her feel awful rather than amused and she turned abruptly away, walking quickly to stand in the shadow of the arches at the edge of the chamber, the darkness somehow making her shame easier to bear.

'Nalia, dearest, what's wrong?' came Fritha's voice and she turned to see the girl stood behind her, the marred half of her face hidden in shadow, and Nalia shook her head.

'It- it is just Jaheira, she never would have hurt her arm had I not…'

She trailed off, unable to force the words past the hot coal that was suddenly stuck in her throat. She had just acted on instinct, knowing the dragon's own combustion would create an explosion that would stun it. But the reaction the blackpower had had with its chemistry had been unexpectedly violent and the horror she felt now as she imagined what _could_ have happened was making it difficult to think of anything else.

'That blast, I never expected it would do so much damage. I- I could have killed us all…'

'Oh, dearest,' Fritha sighed, laying a hand upon her arm to send her a reassuring smile that Nalia suspected was quite painful. 'No one blames you, in fact you probably saved us. Who knows what would have happened had you not acted as you did. I warrant I'd have a whole lot worse than a grazed face, for a start.'

Fritha smiled again and Nalia returned it weakly, the girl's eyes soft as she tugged at her sleeve, 'Come on, dearest, come back to the others, it hurts to see you so.'

Nalia said nothing, just drew a breath and nodded, feeling a touch better as she followed the girl back out into the light.

As it happened, Jaheira's arm was just sprained, Anomen binding tightly it for her, and the druid was soon back at Fritha's side, Nalia helping her as she spread a yellow foul-smelling balm over the girl's face, the pair laughing at Fritha's disgruntled claims that the stuff had been the basis of what Jaheira had been forcing her to drink for the past two days.

'You feeling better now?' Fritha questioned kindly, Nalia almost answering her before she realised she was looking at someone just over her shoulder and she turned to see Aerie now stood, the bard at her arm, though her gait seemed steady enough as she approached them.

'Y-Yes… yes, thank you, I'm fine.'

Fritha smiled, shooing Jaheira away from her as she turned to face them.

'Well, we shouldn't tarry, I imagine the shade realises we are here now,' she said the girl sending a glance to Aerie and Jaheira, clearly concerned, 'Can you two continue on?'

The pair nodded firmly though, and the group seemed to turn as one to the large set of heavy wooden doors the dragon had indicated, Minsc limping boldly over to throw them open, a flight of steps leading up into the darkness.

xxx

Nalia held her breath a moment, trying to deepen her breathing as a stitch began to pierce her side. It felt as though they had been climbing for hours, the stairs seeming to stretch endlessly upwards, the dark silence pressing in about them, and she felt almost smothered by it.

'Here, up ahead,' whispered Jaheira, bringing them to a halt and Nalia glanced up to see a faint light above her, the final step silhouetted against it and she climbed the last few with the others to find herself in a long corridor that ended in an ornate stone archway, a pale blue light coming from the room beyond. Instinctively, the group around her readied weapons and extinguished werelights, darkness suddenly engulfing them.

Fritha stepped back, allowing the more armoured Anomen forward to take the place at Jaheira's side and Nalia followed close behind them to ensure a clear first shot should she need it, smoothly removing an arrow from the quiver at her hip and nocking it easily in the gloom, the movement so familiar by now she felt she could have done it in her sleep.

Quietly, they moved along the passage, every step seeming impossibly loud in the ominous silence. The archway was just ahead of them now and through it Nalia could see a small square room, the smooth walls painted with suns and stylised figures at worship. In the centre, an altar had been set, the black cloth that covered it bearing a circle of runes not unlike the ones they had removed the child from, bottles and pendants glimmering dully in the half-light and she scanned the room for the source only to realise as she drew level with the arch that the light was coming from above them. She glanced up, surprised to see the same shadowy sky that had been arced over the dragon's chamber, only this time distorted by the thick panels of cracked blue glass that formed the ceiling.

'So you come…' a voice rasped shrilly, and Nalia was not the only one who jumped as a figure appeared before the altar, seeming to step from the very shadows, and Nalia found herself facing a black robed woman who she assumed had once been Merella, skeletally thin as the wolves had been with wild unkempt hair, her movements sharp and clumsy as though she was unused to her body.

'I learnt from the wolves you had entered my temple…' she continued, sounding supremely unconcerned about the appearance of seven heavily-armed mercenaries. 'I had hoped that you would have perished along the way, but…'

The woman jerked her shoulders in what Nalia assumed was supposed to be a nonchalant shrug, though the movement was performed with such force it looked more like she had been hit with one of the druid's lightning bolts.

'It matters not, I suppose, for you will die soon enough. _None_ can stand against my power.'

Jaheira raised a contemptuous eyebrow

'Truly? Your pet wyrm gave us the impression the only power here belonged to a long-dead prophet.' She smiled, looking uncharacteristically malicious, 'We found the child, shade.'

The creature turned sharply back to the altar, throwing a hand over it and muttering a few words, the rune circle glowing fiercely a moment before fading away and the creature gave an inhuman shriek.

'No! _No!_' she screeched, whirling back to them suddenly panicked and fearful, 'The power is _mine_ now! You will not take it!'

And she lunged at the nearest of them, the others readying their weapons as Anomen calmly took a step back, his holy symbol still wrapped about the hand that gripped his mace and the creature met the weapon mid-swing, a shrill scream making everyone wince and Nalia watched as the shadow seemed to be driven from the body by the blow, dissolving in a burst of light and Merella collapsed.

Aerie and Jaheira dropped to the woman's side in an instant, but from the looks on their faces Nalia could tell there was nothing they could do; the ranger was dead.

She sighed, turning her attentions to the low altar in the centre of the room.

'What do you suppose is under that?'

'Only one way to find out,' said Fritha matter-of-factly, using her sword to sweep the jumble of bottles from its surface and pulling away the cloth to reveal a small stone sarcophagus, richly carved in suns and psalms.

'Do you think…?' Nalia began to no one in particular, Jaheira stepping forward to kneel beside it, feeling along the edge of the lid.

'The seal has been broken. Here, help me with the lid, Minsc.'

The ranger obliged her, heaving it clear away to uncover an empty tomb just large enough for a child. Fritha glanced back to them

'Aerie?'

Haer'Dalis had already helped the elf remove the bundle from her back, the bard handing the child carefully to Fritha and the girl stood on her toes, reaching down into the depths of the tomb to settle the bones gently back to their rest. Fritha straightened, taking Anomen's flask from her bag and Nalia watched as she turned to the man himself with smile.

'A blessing if you would, cleric.'

The squire frowned but held his hand over the flask all the same, drawing a complicated symbol in the air as he intoned, 'In the name of Helm the All-Seeing, let this water be blessed.'

Fritha nodded, turning back to the open sarcophagus to pour the remains of her water over the bones, a hiss that was almost a sigh rising from them.

'Look!' cried Aerie and Nalia glanced up to the murky glass above them, the sky beyond slowly brightening, as though the dawn had come in but a few moments. Everyone about her was smiling and she felt it too, like a cold weight had suddenly been lifted from her.

Minsc replaced the tomb lid, stooping to gather up the body of Merella, claiming Boo had said she should be buried in the forests she once protected and together they left, moving back into the chamber where the dragon still lay.

It seemed even in death the creature was to be a source of trouble for them though, an argument breaking out over what was to be done with the beast. Anomen had quite rightly observed that such a hide would serve to make a strong armour, but Fritha had been less than keen on the idea, the girl countering hotly when he pointed out the fact she wore leather that she couldn't 'converse with _cows_', before Jaheira mildly commented that whether made into armour or not, dragon hide would fetch a high price. An unreadable look passed between the women, before Fritha finally seemed to decide morals were something she could not currently afford, the girl dismissing the rest of them with a sigh and she would accept no help from anyone as she drew her knife and began skinning the creature.

The others moved off, making their way slowly back to the trapdoor they entered by, Jaheira doubling back to release the wolves they had trapped along the way, soothing the frantic beasts with but a word before driving them out into the world above.

Nalia waited for Fritha though, the girl arriving a good half an hour later, blood smudged on her face and clothes, a long roll of black hide drooping over one shoulder before together they too followed the others out into the light.

xxx

Anomen gazed about him, taking a moment to breathe in the clear cool air as the others began to set up camp, the familiar sound of them as welcome as the pale blue sky that arced above him. Under a late afternoon sun it was as though the ruins and surrounding forests had been transformed, the twisting press of trees that had felt so threatening before, suddenly alight with a wild beauty.

And it was a change that seemed to have extended to his companions as well. Jaheira was more at peace than he had seen the woman in days, currently skirting the forest's edge as she gathered wood for a fire, and even Fritha looked a lot better, the girl laughing hoarsely with Nalia as they worked. The fountain in the centre of the courtyard was running again, water sparkling in the air as it cascaded into the pool below, Fritha and Nalia stooped over it, their sleeves rolled up as they cleared the basin of dead leaves.

He watched as Nalia straightened to push the hair from her face with her forearm and noticed him, the girl clearly telling Fritha, for a moment later she turned as well, drying her hands on her tunic as she walked across to him.

'Here,' she said by way of greeting, handing his flask back to him and he could tell by the weight she had already refilled it. 'Thanks again for lending it to me.'

He nodded, slowly placing it in his bag and avoiding her eye as he searched for some way of opening a reconciliation between them, still struggling to find the words as he straightened to discover her still watching him. She smiled slightly.

'And I'm sorry we argued, Anomen, I can understand how you would think me careless and I should have taken your concerns more seriously even if I didn't agree with them.'

Anomen nodded once. He had not expected _her_ to seek to mend this and the way it had been borne… She did not regret her behaviour, nor did she agree with him, she was just sorry that the difference had brought them to a quarrel and he felt, confusingly, both annoyed and pleased at the same time. Anomen drew a breath, frowning as he tried to explain his own thoughts.

'I would apologise as well, my lady. I have no business dictating to you how you should live. I was merely… concerned; as a priest of Helm it is my duty to protect all those in need of it,' he smiled dryly, '-even from themselves.'

Fritha snorted, her grin broadening.

'You've got your work cut out for you then.'

Anomen smiled slightly, watching her as she turned to look out over the ruins, her manner sobering.

'It's nice to see this place at peace once more, isn't it, though I can't help but worry it's all just temporary. The wards here are still weak, it's only a matter of time before something similar happens again.'

'Yes, I had been thinking on the same thing myself, my lady,' he admitted, 'I intend to inform High Watcher Oisig once we return to the city. He can dispatch a contingent of priests to renew the wards here and prevent another breach.'

Fritha nodded, smiling, the girl opening her mouth to answer when another cut her off.

'Fritha?'

Anomen looked up to see Nalia approaching them, Jaheira's cooking pot full of water and hanging from one trembling arm. 'Fritha, do you know where Aerie is?'

The girl shrugged.

'No, haven't seen her. She's probably just off snogging Haer'Dalis somewhere.'

Anomen frowned, sure he was soon going to regret asking, but-

'I beg your pardon, _snogging_?'

Fritha gave a thoughtful pause, smiling slightly as she considered it.

'Yes, now how do we describe it? Well, you know how _quaffing_ could be used to describe a somewhat messier and more enthusiastic way of drinking… well, I think snogging and kissing could be related in a very similar way.'

Anomen paused, her comparison slowly dawning on him and he could not quite suppress a snort of disgust as the girls laughed.

'Well, I'm going further into the ruins for a wash,' explained Nalia once their amusement had died, 'I wanted to invite Aerie as well, but…' she shrugged, resigned to the loss it seemed. 'Are you coming?'

Fritha nodded earnestly.

'Oh Gods, yes! Can you tell Aerie if you see her, please,' she continued to him politely and Anomen nodded once.'

'As you wish.'

They thanked him and he watched them go, Fritha taking the pot from Nalia to carry it easily, the pair disappearing into the maze of crumbling stonework and he turned back to where Jaheira was feeding wood to a small fire, Minsc already seated upon his bedding and cleaning his sword, Merella's body wrapped in an old shroud and ready for burial. Anomen sighed, dropping to sit next to him and beginning to unbuckle his greaves, absently wondering how much mockery he would have to endure if he too disappeared for a wash.

xxx

Fritha shivered as another gust of wind blew through the ruins, her arms and back a mass of gooseflesh as she scrubbed the cold soaped cloth across her skin.

They had walked until they could no longer hear the sounds of the camp, before moving into the remains of what once looked to be a small storeroom. They were crouched in the shelter of the crumbling walls now, Nalia with her robes and chemise bunched up around her waist, leaving the top half of her in only her bleached linen slip as she washed briskly, while Fritha had stripped to a similar level, crouched next to her in just her trousers and a linen camisole.

At her side she heard Nalia draw a sharp breath as the girl scooped up a cupful of water from the pot before them and leant forward to rinse the soap from her shoulders. Fritha frowned; she had tried in vain to use her magic to heat the water when they'd first arrived. In fact, Nalia had been adamant that she had managed to take the chill off it, but Fritha was pretty sure she was just being nice.

Fritha swapped the cloth she was using into her other hand and picked up the battered metal dish she often used as a mirror, holding it up to see her reflection and trying to scrub the worst of the dirt from her face without getting soap into the graze that ran from temple to jaw.

'Gods, if Imoen could see me now, she would laugh. She always thought I was a bit of an idiot when it came to washing in the wilderness. "By Mask, Fritha, what's the point?"' The girl smiled ruefully, continuing with her scrubbing, 'I just can't stand to feel grimy.'

Nalia nodded once and resolutely.

'I quite agree… Do you think of her a lot?'

Fritha glanced to her, suddenly uncomfortable.

'Imoen? At the risk of sounding completely heartless, I usually try not to… I- I worry for her so much…' she shrugged and forced a smile, 'I just try and put all my focus into getting her back.'

Nalia just nodded though, and she could not tell whether she disapproved of this stance or not.

'What will you do when you have rescued her?'

Fritha sat back on her haunches with a thoughtful sigh.

'I don't know. We were going to leave before, head eastwards, but now I am not as sure. Amn in itself seems as nice as anywhere else I've been…' she glanced to the girl next to her, 'perhaps we can find reasons enough to stay.'

Nalia just smiled, gesturing to the clean water still left in the pot between them.

'Do you want to try and rinse your hair as well?'

Fritha eyed it, tempted for a moment before the frowning visage of the druid swam behind her eyes. She shook her head.

'No, no, I think Jaheira will go doo lally_ tat_ if she sees me with wet hair at the moment,' she laughed hoarsely, Nalia joining her, her hazel eyes shining.

'Ah, you're lovely, you know?'

'Lovely?' Fritha repeated incredulously, holding up the dish to glance again at her raw reflection. 'Nalia, half my face looks like someone's been at it with a nutmeg grater.'

The girl just shrugged.

'Perhaps that is your sort of lovely.'

Nalia was still smiling, the sunlight filtering through the trees about them dappling her face and Fritha could feel the warmth of her arm next to hers, so close she fancied she could count every freckle. She held up the dish to present the girl with her own reflection.

'_As sun lends moon the grace to shine, so your beauty draws forth mine._'

xxx

Aerie frowned, pulling her cloak about her more tightly and wishing she could have stayed by the fire as the cool breeze whipped around her. Anomen had said the girls had been looking for her as soon as she had arrived at the camp, pointing in the direction he saw them walking in before going back to cleaning his armour and Aerie had enjoyed barely a moment to warm her hands before she had set out to find them.

Haer'Dalis had been fascinated by the dead dragon, especially after Fritha had taken a large section of its hide from one side and Aerie had stayed behind with him as he made some sketches. The man muttering darkly to himself as his hand swept and scribbled over the fine sheet of parchment he had brought from the folio in his bag, while Aerie walked about the chamber, examining the pillar carvings and trying to ignore the carcass behind her, its torn face shining wetly, patches of exposed skull glazed in black-red blood.

Aerie shivered, wondering if she shouldn't just give up and go back to the camp when she saw a glimpse of copper just above the stonework. The girls were sheltering in a corner where two half crumbled walls met, their heads very close, Aerie smiling as she saw them.

'Hello, you two.'

The pair leapt up as though her words had scalded, the clatter of a metal dish echoing about them as it hit the stone tiles, Fritha breathing a deep sigh of relief when she saw it was just her.

'Gods Aerie!' she scolded with a breathless laugh, 'You scared the life out of us.'

'Sorry,' the elf replied feeling slightly injured; she hadn't exactly crept up on them. 'Anomen said you were looking for me.'

Nalia smiled, looking just as relieved as Fritha.

'Yes, we thought you might like a wash. There should be enough water left.'

Aerie nodded and thanked them, proceeding to wash her hands and face, though she was too cold to do any more, the girls quickly changing their clothes as she did so.

'So,' began Nalia slowly once the three were all seated again, 'have you and Haer'Dalis been enjoying yourselves?'

'I don't know _what _you are implying, but we don't spend _every_ spare moment kissing!' Aerie answered hotly and she watched as their smiles faded, Fritha shifting closer to lay a hand upon her shoulder.

'We're sorry, Aerie, we don't mean to tease you about Haer'Dalis, it just came as a bit of a surprise. Why did you feel you had to lie about it?'

Aerie fought back a snap about it being 'none of your business anyway!' and sighed. She didn't really feel that way and part of her had been aching to tell them ever since it had happened. But she felt strangely nervous as well. That perhaps she had done something wrong and they would think less of her for it. Her own upbringing had taught her to embrace love in all its aspects, but she had been living with the humans for sometime now and she knew that among the more noble circles at least, such behaviour was still frowned upon.

'I wanted to tell you, truly, but I was worried what you would think. That I had done something that perhaps I should not have.'

'Well, there would be little point in courtinghim if you did not want to _kiss_ him,' said Nalia bluntly and Aerie sighed.

'Yes, well, I suppose…'

Fritha sent her a puzzled frown.

'What's the problem? You like him, he likes you. I would had thought if you'd any reservations you would have considered them before you…' she paused and Aerie had the distinct impression she was carefully considering her next words, 'began to court him,' she finished slowly.

A look Aerie could not read passed between the two girls before Fritha suddenly smiled, seemingly herself again as she stood to shoulder her pack.

'Come on, you two, let's get back to camp.'

So they returned together, Fritha happily swinging the now empty pot, while she and Nalia imagined the scolding Jaheira would give the girl if she found she'd been prancing about the ruins in only her underwear. Aerie sighed; they always seemed to have a way of excluding her without meaning to, Nalia touching Fritha's elbow as they laughed and the elf was glad when they finally reached camp, everyone looking up as they arrived, Haer'Dalis sending her a smile that warmed her better than any fire could.

She moved to sit next to him, Nalia dropping down beside Anomen, while Fritha appeared moments later with the pot she carried full of water once more, the girl hanging it over the fire to heat as Jaheira began to take the rations that were to serve as their evening meal from her pack, deftly unwrapping the packets of dried meat and cheese with one hand as she rested the other in her lap.

xxx

Aerie smiled, feeling pleasantly warm as she sat next to Haer'Dalis in a friendly silence, the first few stars glimmering in a pale indigo sky as dusk fell about them.

The meal was over now, everyone sat drinking the tea Jaheira had brewed up, the druid herself leant back against her pack with her eyes half closed, and Aerie suspected she was enjoying the feel of the forest now it was restored.

Other members of the group were less peaceably engaged though, Anomen and Nalia caught in conversation about the duties of the nobility which looked as though it could spill over into a quarrel at any moment, Haer'Dalis watching it with a mild interest, but Aerie pulled her attention away, turning instead to listen to the more harmonious discourse of Fritha and Minsc.

It seemed the girl had finally decided she wanted to know what she was actually chanting in their odes and had convinced the ranger to begin teaching her Rashemi, the man pointing about the camp telling her the names of various things, before they settled into one of their odes, Minsc translating it line by line, Fritha making notes in the back of her journal as they went.

It was quite nice, sat there drinking the hot tea and listening to the pair, until Haer'Dalis made a comment about them doing it a touch louder so he could hear them over Nalia and Anomen. Something which had the dual effect of abruptly ending the pair's argument and sending Fritha an intense shade of pink, the girl muttering something about having 'enough to work on for now' and disappearing behind her journal to review her notes.

Aerie sent him a frown, but the bard merely smiled roguishly in reply and she could not help but feel her lips twitching. He was so unlike her, with a sharp streak that could have been considered quite cruel if she had not known him better. He was still facing her, his eyes reflecting darkly in the firelight, and she wondered absently if she could kiss him without any of the others noticing. But as soon as the thought arose so did her unease and she settled for taking his hand instead; there was no need to rush things, after all.


	35. Wine and song

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Wine and song **

Fritha smiled broadly as the grey slate roofs of Imnesvale filtered through the thinning trees. They had risen early that morning, setting out from the temple as soon they had laid Merella to rest. Yet despite this sombre start, Fritha felt better than she had in days, their journey full of talk and laughter and somehow much quicker than the passage _to_ the ruins had been, though she had still kept a bottle of Jaheira's linctus with her for the walk.

It was late afternoon now, the amber forests finally giving way to the broad sloped clearing of Imnesvale, a fat golden sun hanging in the western sky and casting a warm yellow light over the houses nestled at the foot of the plain before them. Together they made their way down to the village, though the group had barely reached the first building when a high voice called out and Fritha glanced up to find a young girl running up the slope towards them, her long sandy braid flapping out behind her.

'Hello Kaatje,' Fritha called brightly, the girl not even pausing to catch her breath as she reached them.

'Oh Fritha, everyone's been talking about you! The wolves have gone! Did you find Merella? What happened?'

Fritha felt her stomach sink, glancing to the solemn faces around her before turning resignedly back to the girl.

'Ah, I'm sorry Kaatje, we found Merella, but it was too late.'

Kaatje's face fell, her fingers absently playing with the hem of her apron as she continued, her voice quiet and sounding suddenly much older.

'Oh, I see… I suppose I always knew really… ever since I saw the wolf at her cabin. I just didn't want to believe it…'

Fritha crouched down next to her, trying to see her face

'I'm really sorry, I know she was your friend. Are you all right?'

The girl nodded, though she still did not look up and Fritha had the horrible feeling she was trying not to cry in front of them. She smiled gently. 'And how's your brother, has he recovered yet?'

Kaatje glanced up with a shaky laugh, the girl looking almost surprised the noise had come from her, smiling tentatively as Fritha sent her a knowing grin and they continued on down to the village, Kaatje telling them of her brother's scolding and subsequent punishment in every gleeful detail.

Imnesvale was not as they had left it though. For a start it was busier than Fritha had seen it yet, stalls lining the wide street while people browsed or stood about in groups laughing and talking excitedly, many nodding and smiling to them as they passed, though their young escort seemed oblivious to the bustle.

'Kaatje,' said Jaheira eventually, giving a voice to all their thoughts, 'what is going on? Has a caravan arrived?'

The girl glanced up, looking for a moment puzzled before her face lit with a smile.

'Oh, didn't I say? There's going to be a party!'

'A party?' repeated Fritha, her face suddenly impossibly hot, 'Not for _us_?'

But Kaatje just laughed.

'No, silly! For Highharvestide!'

'Oh,' Fritha sighed, feeling more than relieved, the image of her stood in petrified silence on the town dais before the assembled people of Umar as they waited for a speech finally fading from her mind. 'Oh, that's nice.'

And they carried on through the bustle, Kaatje only leaving them when they reached the mayor's house, explaining it was time for her supper and assuring Fritha she would be about later if she 'wanted to play'.

Fritha smiled, watching the girl skip back up the way they had just come before turning to the stout stone house before them. It was indistinguishable from the surrounding buildings barring the large bronze bell that was hung in a small tower on the porch roof and she wondered whether it was merely a mark of the office or served a more practical use; from the appearance of the rope, it looked as though it had been rung recently.

Fritha stepped forward to knock politely on the door, rubbing her hands together as they waited for an answer.

'Oh, I'm so excited! I wonder what I'll spend my ten gold reward on.'

Behind her, Nalia and Aerie shared a nervous look.

As it turned out though, their reward was a far more respectable five hundred gold pieces which had been raised by the local farmers and merchants, Minister Lloyd as unhappy to hear about Merella's fate as he was pleased that the village was finally safe.

'Merella was a good woman and the winter will be all the harder without a ranger, but I am pleased to hear this evil has been lifted from us. We knew you had been successful when reports began to come back about the wolves moving off, and you need only enter the forests to feel the change in them. But glad though we were, we had been worried that you had met your ends as well; I am most pleased to see it was not so.' He beamed, barely leaving room for a reply as he continued enthusiastically. 'And you return in time for Highharvestide too! We have held a harvest celebration in Imnesvale since before most can remember. I had thought this would be the first year it would be called off and instead we have twice the reason to rejoice!'

Fritha nodded, not wanting to mar this good mood, but Nalia and Aerie had approached her earlier in the day with their concerns and she had agreed that they could not go unanswered.

'And,' Fritha began stalwartly, Nalia giving her a slight smile as she continued, 'have the boys, Delon and Blayel arrived back yet? As I said, we put them on a caravan back in Athkatla. I know they were due to stop in Trademeet before heading here, but I would have thought they should have arrived by now.'

Lloyd smiled broadly. 'Ah, my friends, such concern does you credit.'

'Indeed,' continued Nalia rather briskly, 'but are not their parents worried?'

The mayor frowned and shook his head.

'Well, they are orphans, my lady. Their father was a woodsman who kept a cottage just on the western outskirts of the village, but he died early last year. The boys live alone there now, but Blayel is old enough to look after his younger brother and most in Imnesvale keep an eye on them as well.'

Lloyd sighed, a slight shadow passing across his face. 'I must admit I was a little reluctant to let them go when they volunteered to take a request for help to the city, but we were getting desperate and no one else was willing to leave their families. And as for your question,' he continued with a polite nod to Fritha, 'I'm sorry to say we've had no caravans from the north for a good few days now, but they can sometimes be delayed this time of year due to the rains.'

The mayor saw them to the door, still offering them his assurances about the late caravans and expressing his hopes of seeing them at the celebrations later, before the group finally left to return to the inn. The tavern was even more crowded than the square they had just crossed though, people drinking and making merry and Fritha was glad they had paid the extra coin to keep their rooms free in their absence. The inn was a large one, especially considering the size of the village it served, and already people were being redirected to a nearby barn that had been converted for the task, some just setting up tents on the green behind the inn.

Fritha returned to the room she shared with Jaheira to quickly wash and change her clothes as the others did the same, before tripping back down to the tavern again to finally get a table and share a meal.

Dinner was not the usual relaxed affair though. It seemed everyone in that close-knit community knew it was they who had routed the evil from the ruins and Fritha was quick to grow uncomfortable with people constantly sending smiles and toasts in their direction as they ate. She was sure it was kindly meant; indeed, the others seemed quite pleased with this recognition, but the idea everyone was talking about them was making Fritha feel very on show and she soon left with the excuse of finding a buyer for her dragon hide.

Outside, it was a little quieter, what crowds there were being distracted by the stalls and general air of revelry and Fritha found she could blend in a lot better without the others around her, Haer'Dalis and Minsc not exactly inconspicuous wherever they were. She wandered absently between the stalls, finally managing to find buyers for her hide, half going to a merchant who was heading to Trademeet, the rest going to the local blacksmith, who apparently dabbled in making armour; a fact she rather wished he had kept to himself.

Fritha was sat upon the town dais now, ignored as she watched the activity about her, people laughing and talking, everyone knowing each other and fitting in, all just going about their lives, small and ordinary and wonderful. She suffered with flashes of it now and then, ever since she left Candlekeep, the profound sense that she was different, doomed always to be on the outside of things. Not that she did not feel welcome there in Imnesvale, or indeed, anywhere else she had visited, but she did not belong either, everyone treating her as an honoured guest; respected, yes, but ultimately removed.

Fritha sighed to herself, smiling as she noticed Minsc crossing the square towards her, a gesture which only grew as she watched the villagers getting out of his path with an amusing haste.

'Ah, young Fritha, you are here,' he greeted genially, 'the girls were asking where you had gone.'

'Aerie and Nalia? What did they want?'

'They were going to change their clothes again, even though they had changed them just before we broke bread! Very strange, though Boo tells me it is normal.'

Fritha snorted.

'Well, I'll take his word for it then. Come on,' she said as people began to glance in their direction once more, 'I could do with a walk.'

Minsc nodded and the pair were soon heading northwards up the street and across the plain beyond to the foot of the hill where the village children had been flying their kites but days before, Minsc settling on a large flat stone while Fritha sat at his feet and took her hair down, absently scratching Draconic characters in the packed earth next to her. She sighed, looking back down to the village and wondering what it would be like to know a little corner of it was her own.

'Are you never tempted to settle down as Merella did, Minsc? Just watch over one area, live there until you belong to the place and know it all down to the last leaf and stone.'

But the ranger just shook his head gravely.

'No, young Fritha, Minsc and Boo were made to roam. And besides, we must return to Rashemen one day.'

Fritha nodded absently, glancing up to the man next her, his solid presence somehow comforting.

'Yes, I suppose. I want to travel too, but it must be nice to actually have somewhere you can always come back to, somewhere you belong… What's this?'

The sound of footfalls brought her attention back southwards and Fritha laughed as her eyes fell upon a small group of children headed by Kaatje walking up the slope from the village towards them, some of the younger ones looking wary.

'An army marches on us, Minsc. Ho Kaatje, we surrender!'

Kaatje giggled, a few others joining her nervously as she announced importantly, 'See, I _told_ _you_ she knew me. Hello Fritha, these are my friends,' the girl continued brightly, promptly reeling off a list of names of which Fritha barely caught half.

'Oh, ah, nice to meet you all,' she said eventually, standing to dust off her trousers and smile down at them all, 'I'm Fritha, this is my friend Minsc. He's a ranger. And this is Boo, his, er, companion.'

A soft wow travelled the group, a few of the bolder children stepping forward to tentatively pet the hamster Minsc had lowered in one large scarred hand.

'So did you kill all the wolves that were attacking the village?' asked Kaatje abruptly, the other children all turning to look up at her as well and Fritha felt rather caught out.

'Well,' she began slowly, perching on the edge of Minsc's rock and the children instinctively dropped one by one to sit at their feet, the girl still wondering whether or not she should be telling children such a story even as she continued. 'It wasn't really the wolves' fault. They were being controlled, you see, by a shade who had corrupted the power of the ancient temple here.'

'The northern ruins? My father took me and my sister there last summer,' came a young boy with a messy crop of dark brown hair who, from the look of his tunic, had had something with jam for his supper.

Fritha nodded. 'Yes, well, like I said, this shade had corrupted the place and made the wolves go around killing people. So we fought the shade and now the temple is safe again and the wolves have gone back to the hills.'

'My brother said you killed a dragon up there as well,' came a round-faced boy, shaking his curly blond hair from his eyes as he stared up at her.

'Well, yes, we did,' Fritha conceded, adding quickly, 'but only because it gave us no choice. Dragon's have feelings and mothers the same as anyone. You shouldn't go around killing things just because you can.'

Much nodding followed this before a brown-haired girl in a pale green smock piped up, 'b-but what about monsters?'

Fritha smiled slightly. Ah, the worries of children… there were so many real evils in the world of which to be frightened; how nice they were safe enough to be scared of imaginary ones.

'Well, of course, monsters are a different matter _entirely_,' she began knowledgably, a sudden awed hush falling over the children at her feet. 'There are your common-or-garden wardrobe dwelling variety, and the ones that hide in shadows under your bed, but those are actually quite harmless. No, the one you _really_ need to watch out for is the Frithenach.'

'The Frithenach?' breathed Kaatje, her eyes wide and Fritha nodded gravely, dropping her voice as she leant forward.

'Oh yes, a _huge terrible_ monster with teeth as long as your arm and most common in autumn when the leaves match its wild orange coat. But worst still, it can disguise itself, taking the form of a young red-haired girl and delights in luring children away to wild places where it can _eat them!_ _RAARRGH!_'

And Fritha leapt up to make a grab for the nearest girl, the children shrieking and laughing as they scrambled to get away, Fritha stooped and snarling as she gave a pursuit just slow enough to keep from catching them and Minsc laughed deeply.

'Ah, but Boo says you must not forget, however big the monster is, there is always something bigger!'

And it was Fritha's turn to shriek as the ranger caught her up and threw her over his shoulder much to the delight of the surrounding children, the air filling with laughter and Fritha's cries for help.

xxx

Anomen stood under the eaves of the inn watching the crowded square before him with an uncomfortable frown. He had been tense all day, waking that morning from dreams of his sister, and though he could not quite remember what had happened, they had left him with a feeling of unease that he just could not seem to shake.

At his elbow, Nalia and Aerie were giggling about something the bard had said, all three of them in high-spirits and blending in well with the celebrating villagers, and Anomen's eyes scanned the crowd for others of their group, though he knew that, for one at least, it was in vain. Jaheira had left once the meal had finished to go and make her prayers, Minsc leaving soon afterwards as well. And as for Fritha, the girl had been the first to quit their company, barely stopping to eat with them in her eagerness to find a buyer for her dragon hide. He could just picture her now, wandering from stall to stall, enjoying the laughter and the bustle as she looked for potential customers.

Anomen sighed, he knew he should be happy too, indeed, for there was no real reason not to be. But the air of joy that hung over that place felt somehow oppressive and he suddenly wished the village had a shrine or small temple that he could visit and gather his thoughts.

The others laughter had finally faded by now and at his side Aerie's voice rang clear above the surrounding din.

'Come on, let's take a walk about the stalls. Anomen, aren't you coming?' she questioned, glancing back with surprise as he made no move to follow them. Anomen stood a moment, hesitating and the words left his mouth before he fully had a chance to consider them.

'Ah, no, I must go and find Fritha. There are matters we must discuss.'

Aerie looked mildly taken aback, but nodded all the same.

'Oh, very well then.'

The three stood staring at him expectantly and he was left with little choice but to turn and begin his search. He did not really mind though; if he was to talk to anyone about these unsettling dreams it would be Fritha. Quite apart from the fact that he knew she suffered from them too, on occasion, the girl had a surprising talent for always being able to say something that seemed to help.

To his surprise, there was no sign of her in amongst the brightly-clothed villagers though, and Anomen sighed with relief as he left the square, walking up the street with half and idea of passing the girl, Kaatje's house in case Fritha had gone to visit the child.  
But he saw neither, the walled area before the girl's home empty, and Anomen continued northwards, leaving the village and walking up the slope to at last see Minsc stood on the plain up ahead, the ranger in the centre of a group of young children, all laughing and shrieking as they danced about him. Anomen frowned slightly, the children barely sparing him a glance as he approached.

'Ah, Minsc, have you seen…'

He trailed off as the ranger turned to face him and he was greeted by a familiar pair of sandaled feet dangling over one broad shoulder.

'…Fritha.'

A small white hand tapped his arm and Minsc obediently turned his back to reveal a head, the face obscured by a mass of curls, fingers appearing through them to pull away a curtain and finally Fritha emerged, pink in the face and beaming.

'Hello, Anomen. Minsc here was just explaining the, ah, intricacies of the food chain.'

She shook with the rumble of Minsc's laughter, smiling through a wince as she turned her head to call back, 'here Minsc, if you don't put me down soon, I'm liable to be sick.'

Anomen took an instinctive step back as the ranger obliged her, moving aside to reveal her now stood, already gathering hair back from her face to pin it up again, while Minsc moved off to help the children mark out what looked to be a hopscotch board in the packed earth.

'You were looking for me?' Fritha confirmed brightly. Anomen nodded.

'Yes, I was…'

'Fritha, are you coming?' came a high voice behind and he turned to see Kaatje stood, hands on hips and glowering at him, the interloper who was delaying their games.

'I'll just be a moment,' Fritha called back, turning to him expectantly.

'I, ah,' he faltered, feeling rather on the spot, 'your cold is better then?'

She blinked once and nodded slowly. '_Yes_…'

'Fritha, we want to start!'

'Patience is a virtue,' she trilled back, her eyes not leaving him, 'Anomen are _you _all right? You seem a bit, well, odd.'

He wrestled with himself a moment, feeling increasingly foolish before, at last, he shook his head.

'No, I am fine, my lady… Well, I should let you get back to your…'

'Hopscotch,' she supplied after a moment, smiling mildly as she added, 'you can join us if you like.'

'No, no, I will no doubt see you later.'

He felt her eyes on his back as he turned back to the village, silently berating himself. What had all _that_ been about?  
He had been prepared to speak with her, to ask her advice on his dream, and suddenly he had been speechless. Anomen narrowed his eyes. Finding her playing with the children had thrown him, and her ensuing amused bewilderment as they spoke had hardly helped. It was the same feeling he got when speaking with Prelate Wessalen, that there was a joke somewhere that he was missing, and he had the frustrating feeling it was at his expense.

Anomen shook himself, feeling out of sorts and irritable and he glanced back, half expecting to find the girl laughing with Minsc. But Fritha was playing hopscotch with the children now, clearly trying to keep her balance as she stood on one foot and bent down to retrieve her token, the ranger sat watching them from a nearby rock.

The squire returned his gaze to the path ahead of him and drew a deep breath. He was being foolish. Fritha wasn't acting any differently, he was just tired and it was making him unreasonable. He should just return to the square and join in the festivities. Anomen swallowed, a heavy reluctance settling him over at the mere thought. Or…

He turned back to watch the children at their game, Fritha stood with the others watching the next girl take her turn. He would not have to _play_, after all. He could just sit and watch them as the ranger was…

Another glance down to the crowded village and he had started back up the slope once more, fighting to quell his embarrassment with every step.

xxx

Anomen sighed, letting absent fingers trace over the symbols etched in the earth at his feet, the blithe chatter of the children washing over him. That afternoon had been one of the nicest he had spent since joining their company.  
Fritha had greeted him again without comment as to his sudden reappearance, before mildly going back to her game and he had settled down next to Minsc to watch them in easy silence.

He smiled as the girl before him cut off a potential disagreement between two young boys by distracting them with a magic trick. Fritha was really very good with the children, getting them to suggest different games and joining in with an enthusiasm which was amusing, and the afternoon had passed pleasantly in a round of marbles and follow-my-leader, the girl even getting Minsc to fetch out the company's rope from his pack for some skipping.

But the dusk was drawing in and one by one their numbers dwindled as parents and elder siblings arrived to collect the children, and the games were eventually abandoned, the three walking Kaatje back to the village and meeting the girl's father halfway. He was a broad bearded man, who shook hands with them each in turn and gruffly thanked them for returning his son safely, before scooping up the yawning Kaatje and disappearing into the twilight.

Fritha seemed unusually quiet now the children had gone though, and they travelled the rest of the way in silence, the girl walking close to Minsc and wearing the absent look Anomen was more than used to seeing. Time away from the village had wrought changes though. The stalls were now packed away and benches had been brought from the inn to line the edges of the square, while a group of minstrels were setting up on the town dais- something which soon brought Fritha from her melancholy.

'Look, musicians,' she exclaimed eagerly, quite herself again as she turned to him, 'do you think there'll be dancing?'

'You like to _dance_?'

'You needn't sound so surprised!' she laughed, giving his arm a playful shove and Anomen felt himself flush.

'I did not mean- it is just- well,' he corrected quickly, thinking back to the Rashemi ode and her ensuing shyness the previous evening, 'you seem so reluctant when it comes to singing.'

Fritha just shrugged though.

'Dancing's different,' she said airily, 'it harder to tell if you make a mistake and usually people are too busy concentrating on their own dancing to notice you.'

Anomen frowned and considered that if she were tripping about the same dance floor as him, with worn sword and grazed face, he'd probably find it difficult not to.

'Look, there's Nalia and the others,' she continued brightly, 'Hey Nalia!'

And soon they were joined by the three, their group reunited bar one.

'Has Jaheira not returned yet?' asked Fritha, peering about the square as though she hoped to see the woman, but Nalia shook her head.

'No, I suppose she must still be out praying. Don't worry, dearest,' she added as Fritha sent a concerned frown to the woods behind them, 'the forests are hardly a danger for one such as her, not now anyway.'

Fritha persisted to look worried, but any further discussion was cut off as the musicians suddenly struck up.

A flurry of movement all about them as people moved towards the square and Anomen looked over to the dais where four men and a woman were playing an assortment of harps and pipes, one of the men squatting frog-like behind a large heavy drum.

Together they followed the crowds, Minsc breaking from them to stand next to the dais, apparently absorbed in watching the musicians, while the rest of their group gathered at one of the benches, couples already sweeping about the square behind them and Anomen watched as the bard turned to Aerie with a gallant flourish of his arm.

'Would you like to dance, my dove?'

'Oh, ah…' the girl stuttered, blushing slightly and looking shy. Haer'Dalis took a step back, clearly considering whether to press the point, and perhaps he would have as well, had it not been for Fritha.

'I'll come if Aerie doesn't want to,' she said brightly and the tiefling beamed.

'A flight with my raven, how could I resist?' And hand in hand, they joined the throng.

Anomen watched them a moment, the pair caught together in some strange dance he had never seen before, the movements sharp and quick, while Aerie sat silent on the bench with Nalia, the elf's gaze following them with a disgruntled look.

The squire smiled slightly, letting his attention drift over the other dancers. He, of course, knew how to dance; his mother had taught both he and his sister when he was but a boy, but he never really enjoyed it. He had always felt a little awkward and not so much with the steps, but more with having to find something to talk of while you went.

Nalia had been asked to dance as well now and seemed to be enjoying herself despite having a slight problem with some of steps, and he suspected she was better acquainted with the more formal styles.

'Not dancing, Anomen?' came a familiar voice and he glanced behind him to see Jaheira, her staff still in hand from where she had been out at prayers.

'Jaheira, you have returned.'

The druid smiled dryly. 'So it would seem.'

She moved to stand beside him, her eyes travelling over the square as his had and he could see them linger on Fritha and the bard, Jaheira frowning slightly as she noticed Aerie still sat alone on the bench a little way from them.

'Haer'Dalis asked Fritha to dance?' questioned the woman eventually, sending Anomen a shrewd look.

'Well, he asked Aerie first, but she seemed a little… hesitant, so Fritha volunteered.'

Jaheira sent him a wry smile.

'And the Squire Anomen did not gallantly step in to provide a partner?'

'I prefer to watch,' he answered promptly, so much so he was worried it may have sounded a little sharp and continued more mildly. 'It is interesting, this dance is not one with set steps and yet, though all the couples are moving freely, they all dance together so smoothly, somehow moving as one.'

The druid smiled, looking genuinely pleased by his observation.

'The ordered chaos… it is a contradiction I know well. Nature is often accused of such disorder, but her laws there, and are much harder to break than those made by men. But listen to me,' she laughed ruefully, 'I turn a celebration into a sermon… though I sense in your manner there is little of the reveller in you this evening.' Jaheira sent him a measured look. 'You are thinking on your sister?'

Anomen shrugged, no longer in the mood to share his worries and after a moment the woman continued anyway.

'It is normal to feel grief, Anomen, but do not cling to it, however… _comforting_ it may feel. It does not do to prolong the winter, just because you fear the spring…' She trailed off absently, silent a moment and Anomen had the feeling she was no longer speaking to him. The druid shook herself, turning back to him and smiling once more. 'Though I would not pretend to have known your sister, I sincerely doubt she would wish you to be miserable.'

'Does that mean I can have your hand for a dance later, my lady?' he asked with mock innocence, safe in the knowledge she would likely refuse.

The woman sent him a withering look that was quite at odds with the smile he could see quivering at her mouth.

'Your _bravery_ is admirable, squire, but it is a sorry fool who invites his trouble in.'

And with that she left, Anomen watching as she moved to join Minsc before the dais. The squire smiled slightly, turning back to the square before him.

Haer'Dalis and Fritha danced three rounds together before they returned, both flushed pink and laughing, and Aerie did not need to be asked twice when the next song began, tripping lightly back to the square with the bard. Fritha took Aerie's vacant seat and Anomen moved to stand next to her, the girl's gaze following the couple a moment before she turned to him with a smile.

'Enjoying yourself, Anomen?'

Her eyes were shining darkly in the twilight and he stared down at her about to answer, only to find himself voiceless once more, his mind goading him to speech.

_Go on then, say something, anything…_

'It has been pleasant enough so far, my lady,' he replied at last, rather more formally than he would have liked and inside he groaned.  
What on Toril was _wrong_ with him?

But if Fritha had noticed his tone she was pretending not to, the girl nodding once and turning back to watch the dancers, her eyes drifting over to the bard and his lady who were dancing closely, Aerie laughing lightly as he spun her.

'Ah, that I should always have someone to dance with…' she sighed, all rueful smile and warm eyes. Anomen felt a sudden weight drop into his stomach.

_Ask her! Ask her to dance this minute or by Helm-!_

'W-Would you like to dance, m-m'lady?'

Anomen blinked owlishly and together he and Fritha turned slowly to the voice, finding one of the young lads they escorted back to the village drunk but a few days before stood behind them, pale, grimacing and looking more like he wanted to vomit than dance, his two friends a little way behind and falling over themselves with laughing, and Anomen wondered if they hadn't dared the boy to ask her.

'Hello, Valsben, isn't it? How's your mother?' Fritha greeted and the boy swallowed.

'Ah, she is very well, my lady. So, would- would you…?'

He seemed too embarrassed to finished, just gesturing to the square behind them and Fritha smiled kindly.

'I would be delighted.'

The boy looked as though he would collapse with relief, his face a delicate green as he reached out a trembling hand and Fritha allowed him to escort her into the floor, the girl leading them in a very basic box step when it became clear the boy could dance about as well as he could hold his ale.

But in spite of this, they both seemed to be enjoying themselves, Fritha just laughing brightly when a wrong turn sent them both careening into another couple, the lad's embarrassment fading in the face of her amusement. His dancing seemed to improve somewhat once his nerves had died and he was soon sweeping her around the floor in a merry jig, missed steps and their ensuing laughter seeming to only heighten their enjoyment.

Anomen sighed, glad he had been saved from having to dance and moving forward to take the bench she had left, the weight in his stomach evaporating to leave him feeling rather empty as he went back to watching the dancers.

'E-Excuse me, but, ah, is this seat taken?' came a voice at his arm and he looked up to see a girl stood next to him, slight and fair, with straight pale blonde hair and if she was any older than sixteen summers he would have been greatly surprised. He nodded politely and she beamed, sitting down next to him to lay her hands neatly in her lap.

'I saw you were alone… I- I am called Mari. I- you're one of the people who saved the village, aren't you?'

'Yes, that is so, my lady,' he answered, an awkward silence following this agreement and he felt pressed to continue, 'Ah, I am Anomen, a squire of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart. My companions and I were summoned here by Minister Lloyd to investigate the killings that were plaguing Umar. We found a shade had corrupted the temple ruins to the north, and set out to destroy it. I am pleased to say we were successful.'

The girl gasped, soft grey eyes wide.

'Oh, that's so brave!'

He nodded modestly, trying to ignore the quiet voice in the back of his mind that reminded him she wouldn't really know either way.

'So, Mari,' he began, searching for some topic to occupy them, 'ah, what is it you do in Imnesvale?'

The girl beamed, looking flattered he was interested.

'Well, I live with my parents and younger brothers here in the village. They are fur trappers, though I began my apprenticeship this year. I am learning to be a weaver under Mistress Elna, the Mayor's wife.'

He nodded once, the girl's pride rather endearing to see.

'A good sound profession and one for which there will always be a demand; there was a time my father imported many different types of cloth from all over Amn…'

Anomen trailed off, unsure as to why he had suddenly thought of Lord Cor then when he usually tried very hard to forget the man even existed, though Mari did not seem to notice.

'Your father? Is he a merchant?'

'Ah, no… he is of the Athkatlan nobility and used to be an importer of exotic goods for sale in the city.'

'Then you are of noble blood?' the girl cried, looking awe-struck and Anomen frowned, beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable.

'Yes, but the title belongs to my father while he lives. And besides, in the Order all are equal in brotherhood. The only title I wish for, is that of "knight"'

Mari smiled gently. 'That may be so, though I believe your manner would betray you anywhere, _my lord_.'

She dipped her face slightly, letting her eyes flick up shyly to meet his own, and Anomen turned his attention quickly back to the square as his embarrassment flared again.

Nalia was dancing with Fritha now, the pair looking very natural and pretty together, both taking it in turns to lead. Fritha seemed to be singing along to the music, Nalia's comment on this apparently an amusing one for she was suddenly shyly laughing into the taller girl's shoulder, another remark from Nalia prompting her to glance up and they both turned as one to find him watching, sending him a wave and a smile and nearly stepping into another couple for their trouble.

'Are they companions of yours?' asked Mari and Anomen nodded, glad their conversation seemed to have returned to its innocuous beginnings.

'That is so. The taller is Nalia, the shorter, Fritha.'

Mari smiled again. 'They must feel very fortunate to have a warrior such as you in their company to protect them.'

Anomen choked back a snort; he could just imagine the girls' faces if he suggested _that_ to them. Behind his eyes, Nalia was scowling and Fritha was already pink with laughter. Mari was still gazing up at him through the gloom, her young face shining with adoration and he frowned slightly.

Normally he would have been flattered by the girl's regard, for she was sincere and fair to boot, but confusingly, it no longer seemed enough. Mari was fair, yes, but she at that age where it was very easy for a girl to be pretty and besides, it was much harder to look nice when covered in troll's blood or sporting a black eye. And what was more, she was clearly too young for someone of his age and the obvious regard she held for him was inappropriate.

The dance ended, Fritha and Nalia moved from the square, going to stand with Minsc and the others who had gathered before the dais. Anomen straightened where he sat, about to excuse himself to join them when the musicians started up again and Mari gave a wistful sigh.

'Oh, I love this song…'

She was looking at him, eyes shrewd beneath the shy tilt of her head, with a clear idea of what propriety commanded in such situations. Anomen swallowed and against all better judgement asked if she would like to dance, the girl agreeing with a coyness of which Aerie would have been proud.

Fortunately, the song was a reel and one he knew quite well, the dancers forming two lines to make their salutes before the dance began. Anomen moved through the set of steps and turns, his stomach twisting uncomfortably as the girl moved opposite him, still dipping her face coyly now and then as they danced. He felt as though all eyes were following them, watching with a grave displeasure, and Anomen just tried to put all his focus into his steps as he continued with what felt like the longest dance of his life.

A flash of wild amber hair though the crowd and he caught a glimpse of his own group, his stomach giving a particularly violent twist in response. Fritha and Nalia had not noticed, chatting with Minsc and the boy, Valsben as they were. But Jaheira had seen him and looked torn between disapproval and amusement, while Haer'Dalis was laughing outright, Aerie tugging at his sleeve and trying to get him to stop as she hid her own smile behind her hand.

The song finally over, he quickly excused himself to rejoin them, the girl looking a touch unwilling to let him go, but there was little she could do about it and he tried to ignore the twinge of guilt as he felt her eyes follow him from the square.

'By Silvanus, could you have found anyone _younger_?' exclaimed Jaheira as soon as he was within earshot and Anomen felt himself flush.

'Come now, good druid, she is not so youthful,' rebuked the tiefling. 'Besides, I think some of the girls Fritha was playing hopscotch with earlier would be interested,' he added, turning to him with a wink.

'Haer'Dalis!' scolded Aerie over the laughter, the man barely noticing her slap his arm.

But Fritha was not laughing either and Anomen followed her eye to where Mari was now back on the benches opposite, watching the dancers with a forlorn expression.

'Oh, bless her, how lonely she looks,' Fritha sighed, seeming genuinely concerned, 'I think she needs a partner.'

For one awful moment, Anomen thought she would turn to him again, but the girl passed him by, instead stepping up to give Valsben an encouraging shove towards the floor.

'Well get over there then, and show her your moves.'

For a second, the poor boy looked stricken, but Fritha grinned at him and he seemed to come to slightly, returning the smile to jog over to the girl. The pair were on the floor but moments later, the group about him laughing and cheering and Anomen felt himself smile, Fritha's voice just audible at his arm.

'Dancing, matchmaking _and _hopscotch; this is the best party I've _ever_ been to!'


	36. A season for tempests

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

_Author's note: Just a brief message of thanks to everyone who took the time to review and pm over these last few chapters, it's always nice to hear from people and I appreciate the feedback.  
_

– Blackcross & Taylor

**A season for tempests**

Fritha looked up through the weave of branches above her, the higher ones with barely a handful of amber leaves still clinging to them, while the sky beyond was a marbled grey, a high sun making the clouds glow. The group had set out late the morning after the celebrations to make the three-day journey back to the city, though their trip had not been an easy one.

It seemed the storm they had experienced in Umar was to be the first of many, Eleint drifting into a squally Marpnoth as the autumn deepened, the fallen leaves now less crisp carpet and more a slimy mulch, battered into the mud by the intermittent rains. Jaheira had quite wisely suggested they purchase a canvas to sleep under before they left Imnesvale, but even so, camping out had hardly been enjoyable and Fritha suspected everyone was looking forward to their arrival in Athkatla in but an hour or so's time.

Fritha sighed and pulled the hood of her cloak up as she felt the first few drops of yet another shower speckle her face. Though the weather had finally turned, it was hardly cold, most of them only bothering with their cloaks when it rained. But she had learnt her lesson and kept wrapped up, determined not to tempt fate and another cold quite so soon after the last one. The shower was growing heavier though, the others pausing to throw on their own cloaks, the man next to her pulling his from where it had been slung across his pack with a frustrated sigh.

'On, off, on, off, it won't be about my shoulders more than a moment before the rain passes and I will have to remove it again!'

'It is merely weather this time of year, Anomen,' snapped the druid in terse reply, 'Why must you find everything to your distaste?'

Fritha grinned. That was pretty rich coming from Jaheira, but she intervened before Anomen could respond with the same thought, catching his arm to twirl herself under it as she sang, her voice high and wavering in the Calimshite style.

'_After the rain comes sun, after the sun comes rain again._'

Everyone bar him laughed, the man himself snatching his arm back with a scowl and they continued on again, the others slightly ahead of them now as she and Anomen brought up the rear together.

Fritha sighed to herself, feeling suddenly tired. The squire had been in a vile mood ever since they'd left Umar, though she couldn't for the life of her work out why and, with almost every conversation she had shared with him so far ending in crossed-words, she hadn't yet worked up the nerve to ask him.

But whatever the reason, she was finding it very difficult to maintain the happiness their last night in Imnesvale had left her with in the face of Anomen's temper, especially when combined with Nalia's increasing air of melancholy; the girl's misery harder to bear than anything Anomen could come up with. Nalia was never happy when sleeping out of doors and though she never complained, Fritha could see her wilting as the days wore on. The rains were doing nothing to improve matters either and Fritha felt a worry creep across her stomach as she considered it; the weather was only certain to become worse as the year drew to its close.

Fritha smiled slightly in spite of her unease, glancing to the head of the group where Nalia was leading with Minsc, the girl striding along and looking as though she could not wait to be back within the city walls. At least Nalia was trying to stay cheerful, as opposed to Anomen who was just trying.

_Don't be like that…_ scolded the voice behind her eyes and she nodded absently to herself. Anomen had not long ago lost his sister and she should not judge. It was just that he had seemed to be getting better until they had left Imnesvale…

Perhaps, their return to the city was playing on his mind, returning to the place where Moira should have been. After all, it had been the same for her when she had returned to Candlekeep…  
Fritha glanced up to the man next to her, his profile just visible behind his hood, eyes trained on some point far ahead of them. She smiled, trying to force a guileless cheer to her voice as she asked, 'So are you looking forward to our return to the city, then?'

Anomen turned to her with a scathing look.

'Well, I shall not miss being at the constant mercy of the elements.'

'Gods, you're 'ard work sometimes, Anomen,' she sighed half to herself, her voice taking on an unexpected inflection of Calant, the Sword Coast dialect. A mellow lilt that seemed to soften all her vowels and lengthen her R's, and she could not help but smile as she thought back to her home. The sages had come from all over Faerûn, educated people of neutral accents, but the servants and guards were all locals, and she would sometimes find her tone slipping comfortably into the almost melodic drawl when her language warranted it.

Anomen raised an eyebrow and she laughed brightly, continuing in her usual voice, 'Well, you are! I was only trying to be nice.'

Anomen sighed, feeling ashamed of himself. His dreams had become increasingly vivid since their departure from Umar, every night haunted by visions of Moira, his sister sobbing inconsolably as she fretted and worried over how their father was managing without her. He would awake each morning all the more tired for his sleep and filled with a disquiet he could not quell, and he had been quite sharp with everyone over the last few days, Fritha bearing the worse of it, though, admittedly, through no fault of her own.

He did not mean to snap at her, but the girl had been in high-spirits ever since the evening of the party and her air of laughter was at odds with his own unease. Something which was doubly frustrating when she was the one person with whom he would have felt comfortable discussing such a matter. Still, she was there now and the others were a little way ahead of them…

'I- I am sorry, my lady. I have been feeling ill at ease of late,' he began, Fritha glancing to him and he pressed his lips together, forcing himself to continue on. 'I dreamt of my sister last night. I… I have been dreaming of her quite often recently. She says she is unhappy, that her spirit cannot rest with worrying for my father. I try to comfort her but…' he trailed off with a shake of his head, Fritha now wearing a troubled frown. He sighed. 'You think I am being foolish, do you not?'

'No, not at all,' she replied with conviction, tipping back her hood as the rain finally stopped again, 'But… Well, either you believe that Moira's spirit is not at rest or…' she paused, her frown deepening as though it was painful for her to continue, 'I dream of Imoen a lot, you know… I find dreams are usually the mind's way of playing through concerns which perhaps you are unwilling to think on in your waking hours.' She turned to send him an understanding look. 'Anomen, if you find that perhaps _you_ are worrying for your father-'

'Be assured, my lady, I am _not_! They are merely dreams, nothing more.'

Fritha sighed again and he instantly wished he had managed to soften his tone, though her voice was even as she answered him.

'Fine, fine, as you say. Do you plan to speak with Oisig today about the Umar ruins?' she continued, clearly just for the sake of changing the subject and they walked the last few miles discussing idle plans for their time in the city.

'Oh, at _last_!' exclaimed Nalia ahead of them and Anomen glanced up to see the familiar walls of Athkatla through the trees before him.

It was busier than they usually saw it though, leaving the city early and arriving late as they did, and scores of people and carts were jostling in and out through the wide gates. The tenday after Highharvestide was a traditional time for setting out on journeys before the winter began and this increased activity combined with the rains had done nothing for the road; the packed earth path before the flagstones of the gates a sea of mud.

'Oh gods,' Fritha groaned at his side as she eyed the mire with nothing short of despair when something seemed to spark within her and she sprang nimbly up to sit on to the back of one of the carts that was rattling slowly past them, calling out to the driver politely.

'Good day, sir! You don't mind, do you?'

The man glanced back, clearly surprised to find her there though he laughed good-naturedly and called back, 'Not in the least, love!'

Fritha beamed and Anomen watched her catch up Nalia too as they rumbled past the others, lending the girl a steadying hand as she braced a foot against the wheel and jumped lightly aboard to join her.

Anomen had reached the others by now, who were stood watching the cart disappear through the gates with mixed expressions, the two girls sat primly on the back, Nalia laughing gently while Fritha sang a rousing chorus of 'Amnish Ladies', blew them kisses and generally made a spectacle of herself.

'_Farewell and adieu to you, Amnish ladies. Farewell and adieu to you, ladies of Amn_…'

xxx

Anomen sighed, his boots caked and mud splattered clear to his knees as he followed the others through the relatively solid streets of the slums, his mind still swimming with images of his sister and now, more disturbingly, those of his father too; the man sat drunk and alone in that rotting old house. Although he was loathed to admit it, Fritha had merely confirmed what he himself had always unconsciously known; however much he hated Lord Cor, the man was his father and he could not help but worry about how he was fairing now his sister was gone.

The group had reached the Coronet by now, the others disappearing through the door before him and Anomen was about to enter himself when a voice shouted, 'Squire Anomen!'

He turned, eyes scanning the street to find the narrow fair-haired figure of Cadril, a fellow squire of the Order and one whom he had never particularly liked, and he wondered a moment at the man's use of his title when he noticed the ornate ceremonial sword slung at his hip next to his mace and he was suddenly overwhelmed with the sense the gods were just mocking him. Cadril had been knighted.

'Squire Anomen, I thought it was you,' Cadril greeted, an impossibly smug smile on his pale angular face and Anomen felt his jaw clench, forcing the words through gritted teeth as he replied politely.

'_Sir _Cadril, my congratulations. When was this honour bestowed upon you?'

Cadril smiled proudly.

'On the day of Highharvestide. The Prelate himself presented me with my sword since my knight is away on campaign. And what have you been doing?' he continued, his smile slowly taking on a derisive air, 'The last I heard, you were in Umar, saving some villagers from a pack of wolves.'

'_Actually_-!' Anomen began hotly when the shrill groan of a window being opened cut him off and he looked up to the inn behind him to see Fritha leaning out to shake the dried mud from her cloak, the girl glancing up from her work to notice him.

'Oh hello, Anomen,' she called brightly, more than one person in the street turning to the source of the noise and Anomen felt his face growing hot as embarrassment rose within him. 'You made it through all right then?'

He nodded stiffly and she laughed, disappearing with a smile and a wave.

Anomen turned back to Cadril who was still staring up at the window, his disbelief so great he even forgot to remind him of his lower rank as he asked, 'Anomen, was that your lady?'

Anomen felt himself frown; that he and Fritha were _courting_ was the _last_ rumour he needed travelling the Order.

'_No_, that is Fritha, our leader -she is very glad to be back in the city,' he added quickly by way of an excuse for her overly exuberant behaviour.

He expected Cadril to at least smirk at this admission, but the man merely nodded, his eyes still on the window before he finally turned back to him, seemingly himself again.

'Well, squire, I fear I cannot tarry any longer. The life of a knight is fraught with responsibility and there are many pressing tasks that require my attention.'

And with that Cadril turned on his heel and swaggered off down the street. Anomen watched him go, silently seething, before turning to finally storm after the others into the inn behind him.

xxx

The tavern was a busy confusion of noise and movement, and just as Haer'Dalis liked it best, the man sat upon a table watching the bustle while Aerie sat in the chair beneath him as they waited for the druid to return from the bar with tokens for the bathhouse downstairs.

He smiled as she watched the girl next to him examining her muddy skirts with a frown. He had proposed he carry Aerie 'over the threshold', as it were, but she had refused his every offer and waded through the mire with the rest of them in the end. The girl had a stubborn streak which he found rather charming, though he could not help but hope that she would soon begin to show her affections a little more consistently. The journey back from Umar had found her shy of and eager for his company in turns and it was becoming tiresome never knowing when he reached for her whether she would be there or not.

Aerie sighed, finally straightening to send him a tired smile.

'I wonder where Jaheira is with our tokens, I'm desperate to have a wash.'

'Yes, I fear my dove is turning curlew, though I like you just as well in any plumage.'

Aerie giggled brightly and Haer'Dalis smiled as he continued.

'Now what plans have we for this afternoon? After our jaunt to the bathhouse, of course. We can go and visit your circus again, if you wish.'

'Y-You would want to?' she confirmed and he smiled at her modest surprise

'Indeed and not only because I know it will tempt a smile from you. I like your friends, they live their lives playing through the roles the circus has set them, always before the critical eyes of the masses; it reminds this sparrow of the troupe.'

'Really? Then I should like very much to go with you.'

Aerie smiled again, looking genuinely pleased and Haer'Dalis felt unexpectedly warmed, turning as a familiar face caught his eye in the crowds, 'Ah, and here's a welcome sight.'

'Jaheira?' exclaimed Aerie, turning eagerly to greet her, but it was not the druid. 'Oh hello, Fritha.'

'Our raven returns to us!' Haer'Dalis grinned, as the girl arrived at their table, 'I much admired your flight at the gates; did the good peoples of Athkatla appreciate your performance?'

Fritha laughed unashamedly.

'If they did, they were keeping it to themselves. You two just heading down to the baths?'

Aerie nodded.

'Yes, we are just waiting for Jaheira to bring us our tokens. You have already been, I assume; where's Nalia?'

Fritha smiled fondly, sending a glance back to the stairs.

'In bed. I left her sleeping. She never rests properly out of doors, poor dear.'

Haer'Dalis smiled as well, about to reply when the bang of the door behind them cut him off and all turned to see Anomen come striding into the tavern, his face set as he marched towards their table.

'Here comes one in haste and in a temper too, I'll warrant,' called Haer'Dalis, knowing it would merely rile the squire further and relishing the trouble of it. 'What has ruffled your feathers this time, knightling?'

Anomen threw him a scowl.

'My mood is no concern of yours, tiefling, _and_,' he continued, whirling on a bewildered Fritha, 'I would appreciate if the next time you see me in the street, my lady, you would refrain from hanging out the window and bellowing like a common fishwife.'

Haer'Dalis laughed, throwing an arm about the girl's shoulders as the squire marched off to the bar.

'You'd think the hound would be grateful at having pretty young women calling to him in view of all, I _cannot_ believe it happens very often.'

Aerie giggled but Fritha did not share their laughter, gently shrugging him off with a mutter about the promenade before heading for the door and Haer'Dalis let his gaze drift over to where the squire now stood speaking with the landlord, oblivious. The teifling felt his eyes narrow, an intense dislike stirring just under his ribs. The darker influences of his blood usually remained dormant, his easy acceptance of whatever the fates brought making him difficult to rile, but at the moment…

He may have long ago settled his affections upon Aerie, but that did not mean he was not still fond of Fritha, with her bright spark of verve that seemed to border almost on madness, and anything that robbed the world of that was certain to raise his ire.

'Haer'Dalis?'

He turned to see Aerie staring at him, her expression concerned, almost wary, and the anger faded as quickly as it had risen.

'Yes, my dove?'

'No, nothing, you just looked…' she trailed off and smiled suddenly, 'never mind.'

xxx

Fritha went to the promenade as planned, replacing their few supplies quite quickly and she spent the rest of the afternoon wandering listlessly from stall to stall, just asking idly for work and enjoying the feel of being alone before she headed over to the docks to make her tithes and pray for Imoen. Which left her where she was now, sat on a low wall about halfway up the slope of terraced streets, watching ships bobbing in the harbour below as the sun sank over the sea, throwing up a bright white glare that was almost blinding. She turned from the light, the world before her faded to a greenish grey as her eyes recovered, while the sun warmed her back.

The joy of Imnesvale seemed a lifetime past now, the last of it ebbed away by thoughts of Imoen. Fritha had once found her prayers for the girl a source of comfort, but now they seemed only to bring the worries for her friend to the fore of her mind. And though she would have liked to pretend such things did not bother her, the squire's continuing sharpness was beginning to take its toll. She thought back to his last outburst, feeling the sting of his words once more as she recalled it. She had only called to him in the street, why had he been so angry with her?

Fritha sighed. The fact that he was dreaming about Moira led her to think that he was probably still upset about his sister's death, not to mention the clear worries he held for his father, however much he may deny them; these buried feelings festering until they became an anger which, unfortunately more often than not, seemed to be directed at herself…

Anomen had once told her she remind him of his sister, something which had perhaps been a comfort in the days just after her death. But now…  
Perhaps now she was just serving to remind the man of what he had lost.

Fritha sighed again, still trying to muster the will to stand and make her way back to the inn, when the light rasp of claws on stone caught her attention and she turned to see a cat leap up from the roofs beneath and come trotting along the wall towards her, Fritha smiling in spite of herself as it began to rub its face affectionately against her outstretched hand, its fur warm and slightly dusty.

'Hello there, mister, you been sunbathing? There n-'

Fritha shrieked as the cat suddenly sprang back with a hiss to rake yellowing claws across her knuckles.

'_Ah_! What's your name? _Anomen_?' she shouted, the cat crouching low, its tail twitching while malevolent green eyes stared up at her and Fritha curled back her lips with a hiss of her own, taking grim satisfaction as the creature sprang from the wall to streak across the street and disappear down the alley opposite. Fritha clutched her hand tightly. The scratch was stinging and though it was hardly painful she felt suddenly close to tears.

'_Come now, let's not be silly_,' a voice reminiscent of Beth soothed behind her eyes, but only seemed to make her feel worse. Fritha shook herself, rising from the wall to return to the slums, determinedly turning her melancholy to anger as she went.

'Stupid creature! Hells take you, you horrible little be-!'

Something collided with her shoulder and the apology was on her lips before she had glanced up to see who she had walked into.

'Oh, I beg your-'

But the old man had barely noticed her, muttering away to himself just as she had been as he continued on his way, still pouring over the parchment in his hands, the bag at his hip overflowing with scrolls and books.

'And Arlem, that pompous old fool! I've never heard anything more preposterous!'

Fritha watched him a moment, his wizened form drowning in his voluminous grey robes, before she sighed, turning to continue her own path and it was then she noticed the neat scroll of parchment lying on the ground at her feet.

'Sir, wait! You've dropped…' she called, whirling back to the see the man disappearing through a pair of heavy wooden doors in the pale sandstone building a little way along the street, the windows long and narrow and set high in the walls. She sighed again, half-tempted just to pretend she hadn't seen it, but before she realised it, she had stooped to snatch the scroll from the cobbles and turned on her heel to march after him, catching the doors before they had swung closed and putting her head around them to call for him when her voice died in her throat.

The room was a mirror of the windows above her, long and narrow, every wall lined floor to ceiling in bookcases. Down the centre, rows of tables stood, people stooped over them here and there deep in study while grey-robed men drifted about the shelves and the place's similarity to Candlekeep was heart stopping.

'Yes, my dear?' came a voice and she started to find an old man stood before her, balding and bearded, wearing a similar set of grey robes and a polite smile.

She frowned, lost for a moment, until she recalled the chance that had brought her there.

'I- the man who just entered here before me- he dropped this.'

She handed the scroll to him, the man glancing it over before recognition lit his face.

'Oh, I see. Well, my sincere thanks for returning it to us.'

Fritha just shook her head, eyes still taking in the room about her.

'This place…'

The man followed her gaze to the book-lined walls.

'It is a library run by monks in the service of Oghma, though we are mostly funded by donations from patrons about the city. You are welcome to stay and use the facilities, my dear, though we ask any time spent here is paid for either with gold or time spent scribing.' He smiled kindly. 'But since you went to the trouble to return Brother Eadric his scroll, I think we can waive payment this time.'

Fritha nodded her thanks, still feeling a touch dazed as he swept off and she moved over to the nearest bookcase, letting her fingers hover hesitantly over the spines, before she was piling the myriad of tomes into her arms, and moments later found her at one of the many tables, surrounded by a wall of books. A huge time-worn volume was open before her, her face but an inch from the yellowing paper though she was not reading, her eyes unfocused as she drew slow measured breaths and lost herself in the feeling of home.

_This isn't Candlekeep_… a voice behind her eyes reminded reluctantly.

No, it was not, but this was as close as she had come for a very long time and if she just closed her eyes…

In an instant the world was reduced to the gentle murmur of the sages, the scratch of a lone quill, the cry of the gulls outside, while the air swirled heavy about her, rich with the scent of leather and parchment; so welcome, so familiar and even through her sudden contentment, she could not help but wonder if she would not live to regret this discovery.

xxx

Jaheira moved unnoticed through the emptying streets, a dark orange sun hung low at her back as she made her way from the docks. She had been looking forward to returning to the Harpers' hall ever since her last visit and now she ardently wished she had not gone at all.

Her report to Galvarey on what had occurred in Umar had been accepted without a question, though it had become clear this was merely because his mind was dwelling on other matters; the man waiting until she had just finished her account to ask again about Fritha.

Jaheira swallowed, her stomach tightening as she recalled it. Though he had not ordered her to present the girl to him, his request certainly had a more determined air than last time. And it was one which worried the druid in a way she could not describe later as she shared her fears with the only person she could, the calm lined face of Dermin rising behind her eyes and she could almost hear his gruff voice as she recalled his words.

'_Well, the senior Harpers are worried, Jaheira, and you can't really blame them; just one of the Children managed to almost start a war between Amn and the Gate.'_

'_Yes, and was stopped by another of the Children. They cannot just proclaim them all a threat!'_

'_No, no, I understand and I think Galvarey does too, but he's in an awkward position between you and the seniors. They want him to evaluate the girl, gain some proof she isn't a threat.'_

Jaheira shook her head, feeling her dread anew as she recalled her reply.

'_Because my word is not enough… I don't want to bring Fritha here, Dermin, I- I fear for her. Galvarey, he is-'_

'_Young and keen to prove himself. He's not a bad sort though, Jaheira, I'll talk to him. And I wouldn't worry too much about the seniors; what with the increased Zhent activities and the upheaval of Khelben's departure still being felt, I expect this will all be forgotten about soon enough.'_

Jaheira glanced up, surprised to find herself already outside the Coronet, the guard nodding politely to her as she went to enter when a high voice caught her attention and she turned to see a skinny dark-haired boy of about eight winters walking up the street towards her.

'Here, yer one o' 'er lot, ain't you? I'm looking fer the Lady Fritha.'

Jaheira raised an eyebrow, her worries merely feeding her irritation.

'Are you now, and who exactly are _you_?'

'Me?' he repeated, looking slightly annoyed she had asked, 'I'm Meck, I work as an 'and at the play'ouse. 'iggold's got a problem and sends me to fetch the Lady Patron.'

'Well, she left for the promenade a while ago, I don't know if she-'

'Lady Patron!' the boy cut her off, his gaze shifting to something behind her and Jaheira turned to see Fritha walking along the street towards them, the girl wearing an absent look that did not much fade as she noticed them.

'Oh, hello, er, Meck, isn't it?'

The boy gave a slight bow, clearly not foolish enough to show any of his previous cheek to his employer.

'Aye, m'lady. 'iggold said to come and fetch you, 'e's a problem that needs yer attention.'

Fritha frowned.

'Gods, it's not Jenna and Iltheia squabbling again, is it? By Milil, I'll-!'

'No, no, m'lady,' Meck soothed, looking a touch alarmed, 'nothing like that. Best you come see fer yerself.'

The girl shook herself, sounding suddenly tired.

'Yes, of course,' she sighed, sending her a wan smile as she continued. 'I'll see you later, Jaheira.'

Jaheira nodded, watching as the pair disappeared back along the way she had just come, silhouetted against the burning western sky.

The druid sighed, the sense of unease rising within her again, but she quelled it. She had been a member of the Harper's all her adult life; they were a part of her, had been a part of Khalid. And though things had changed of late, a more formalised structure arising in the wake of Khelben's resignation and the ensuing wave of dismissals, they had never yet given her a reason to question the trust she placed in them.

Besides, it was as Dermin had said, Fritha was a very minor concern in the ever-changing troubles of Faerûn; she would surely be overlooked.


	37. In Order

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**In Order**

'There, would you like any honey with it?' asked Nalia gently, passing a bowl to the girl next to her and Haer'Dalis watched as Fritha shook her head.

'No, thank you.'

It was mid-morning and the group were sat about their usual table in the Coronet taking breakfast, though the dark mood that hung over them would not have been out of place at a funeral supper. Haer'Dalis let his gaze travel the table. Jaheira was staring absently out of the window next to her, while the knightling was putting all his attention into slowly eating his breakfast, a frown never far from his brow, and even his usually bright dove seemed to be under a cloud that morning. In fact, the only one who was still in his usual good spirits was Minsc, the ranger watching his hamster steal food from his plate with a fond look, seemingly oblivious to the surrounding gloom.

Haer'Dalis glanced across the table to where Fritha was sat, pushing the porridge she had been served about her bowl looking drawn and distracted, Nalia hovering anxiously at her arm.  
The previous evening had found them all bar one about that same table, Jaheira insisting that they wait for Fritha to arrive back from the playhouse before they took their meal. But the girl did not return and eventually they ate without her, Meck arriving with the dusk bearing a message from her apologising for the absence and asking if he, Haer'Dalis, would return with the boy to the theatre and, strangest of all, to bring his lyre.

The boy would not tell him anything as they made their way back through the emptying streets, though it soon became clear as he arrived to find Fritha knelt upon the stage, sheaves of sheet music spread out about her, the ink on the one she held still wet. It seemed the musician Higgold had hired to play the music along with the less experienced Marcus had disappeared; the man leaving the inn where he was staying and taking the score for the play with him. Fritha had, of course, been summoned and after many wasted hours following leads about the city trying to find him, she had given the errant minstrel up as lost and sent for the tiefling.

At first, Haer'Dalis had joined her on the stage and together they had attempted to write the score again from memory while the cast about them tried to help, humming passages here and there and arguing, until Fritha seemed to decide this too was a lost cause and sent them back to their rehearsals, ushering himself and Marcus into a small narrow room, empty save for a huge gilt mirror. And there the three of them sat, a copy of the script before them and using what Marcus could recall of the old score for a foundation as they composed a new one, the boy on his harp while Haer'Dalis had his lyre and Fritha played an old lute they had found in the props cupboard that was missing the last pair of strings, the remaining pegs so worn it had to be retuned after every song or so. But she played it very well and did not seem remotely shy for all her claims of being frightened of performing in front of others.

He glanced to her again, Nalia and the girl holding a furtive conversation, though it seemed to be very one-sided, the young thief finally going back to her breakfast with a sigh. Fritha was clearly not in the mood to share whatever was wrong and Haer'Dalis let his mind drift back to his own concerns as his eyes fell on the girl next to him. Aerie was being decidedly distant with him that morning, though he could not for all the planes understand why. In answering Fritha's summons he had been unable to attend the circus with the elf and though when he had asked the girl at the time, she had said she did not mind, she was behaving very coolly towards him that morning, though whenever he questioned her she was still maintaining 'nothing' was wrong.

Aerie glanced up to catch him watching, returning the smile he sent her wanly before dropping her attention back to her dish and Haer'Dalis frowned. Upset or not, he had asked her about it more than once now and if she wasn't willing to tell him what was wrong, who was he to play psychic?

'Fritha, are you even listening to me?' came an exasperated cry from across the table, Fritha clearly glancing up just as he did and looking quite surprised as she came face to face with a very frustrated Nalia. 'Goodness, where _are_ you this morning?'

Haer'Dalis smirked slightly, ready to bring himself round with a little trouble.

'Wherever she is, I think the druid is there as well. Come now, my ptarmigan, you have surely admired your reflection long enough for now.'

Jaheira started at this address, turning from the window to send him a dark scowl.

'I was wondering on our plans for the day. Unlike you, bard, _I_ am able to focus past the end of my own _fine eyelashes_.'

'Oh, peace, you two!' snapped Fritha with an abruptness that made Nalia start. 'And as for our plans, we'll go and look at the bounties just as we do every time we set out to find work! Why must everything be such a battle?'

xxx

Fritha walked at the back of the party alone, following the others as they made their way back from the Council Buildings. None of the bounties on display there had been suitable and the overall mood of the group was low, something she knew had been little helped with her outburst at breakfast, though she was finding it difficult to care.

As though her problems with Anomen and the theatre weren't enough…

That she and Haer'Dalis had returned late the previous night was true, but she had not slept even once she'd reached her bed, just lain awake watching a shaft of moonlight move across the ceiling as long-buried memories of Candlekeep swam behind her eyes. The discovery of the library had awoken something in her, something that had been better off forgotten, and for all her telling herself she would _not_ return to that shrine to Oghma, her mind would give her no rest, constantly dwelling upon when she would have a spare moment to visit again.

'Fritha?' broke a voice through her thoughts and she glanced up to find Nalia had dropped back to walk next to her, her hazel eyes watching her with a troubled look just as they had all morning. 'Fritha, is something wrong?'

'No, nothing.'

Nalia paused, her air of concern unwavering though a slight smile was now pulling at her mouth.

'You sound like Aerie,' she said quietly and Fritha glanced ahead to where Haer'Dalis and Aerie were walking side by side, the bard looking mildly irritated as Aerie took what seemed to be a very deliberate interest in the scenery as they went. Fritha laughed slightly.

'I'm sorry, I don't mean to sulk.'

But Nalia just shook her head.

'I doubt that you are… my aunt would always accuse me of such after we had argued, but as I would point out to her, it is only sulking if there is no real reason for your melancholy.'

Fritha turned from her, letting her gaze travel over the grand houses and manors about them, the homes of Athkatla's higher-ranking nobles. Perhaps there was a reason for her melancholy, but it was hardly an exclusive one. Nalia too had lost her home and father, and the girl must have faced constant reminders of it as they moved about the city. Fritha sighed. Candlekeep was no more lost to her than it had been before the library's discovery and Gorion had always said that home was not just the place but the people too…

She glanced back to find Nalia still watching her, her eyes gentle.

'You do not have to tell me what is wrong, I- I just want you to know that I will be here should you wish to.'

'Thank you, I…' Fritha trailed off and smiled sheepishly, 'I think I might have been sulking though…'

Nalia laughed brightly and Fritha felt suddenly warmed, more than ready to distract herself with some idle talk. 'So, how was your evening yesterday, did you get any more embroidery done on your new robes?'

'Yes, a little, I-'

'Hear ye, hear ye, I bring grave tidings,' came a loud voice and Fritha turned with the others to see a lean dark-haired youth jogging along the street toward them, calling as he went. 'Hear ye, Trademeet is under siege.'

'Under siege?' repeated Nalia, holding up a hand to stall him as he passed, 'By whom?'

'By the very creatures that once roamed peaceably about her forests, my lady.'

Minsc looked instantly aghast.

'Innocent animals are attacking the town? Oh, no, no, no, Boo says this does not sound right!'

'Right or wrong, my lord, it is happening. It is as though Nature herself has risen up against the town and all eyes turn to the local sect of druids.'

'Druids would never act so without provocation!' said Jaheira looking affronted on their behalf, but the man just shrugged evenly.

'I merely report the situation, my lady, I do not judge it. Well, if you will excuse me, I've to get this about the city by sundown.'

Jaheira turned to face the group as the crier continued on his way.

'Well, it seems we could have found our next task.'

Minsc and Aerie began to nod, but Nalia looked almost stricken.

'Leave the city again so soon?' she exclaimed and Fritha felt her stomach lurch. 'But we have hardly exhausted all sources of work here yet.'

Jaheira sent the girl a stern look.

'We are in need of work, Nalia, and besides, we would do well to leave the city,' she glanced to Fritha and turned away again. 'It stifles me.'

'Well, it does not stifle the rest of us!' Nalia snapped and looking as though she would continue before she was calmly cut off by the squire.

'I must agree with Nalia. Many have surely heard this news and Trademeet is a fair distance; we could arrive in the town only to find the troubles already at an end.'

Jaheira looked angry, though it seemed more at the wisdom of Anomen's argument, than anything else.

'Indeed, and what have you to say on the matter, Fritha?'

'Well,' she began, very aware of Jaheira's eyes still boring into her as she stole a glance at Nalia. The girl had turned away from her, as though she did not want to influence her decision, but Fritha could tell she was unhappy. Fritha turned back to the others. 'We'll stay in the city for a few more days yet and look for something local. But if we don't find anything by the seventh we're heading out for Trademeet before the weather worsens.'

Jaheira snorted but said no more and everyone else seemed happy enough with this decision. Fritha sighed.

'Well, since we're staying here we should continue looking for work. What of the Order, Anomen? And if we're wandering that way we can ask about the temples as well.'

Anomen looked suddenly reluctant about having their whole group attending what was effectively his home, but there was little he could do now and he turned to lead the way with good grace, Fritha following a pace or so behind him, Nalia at her side.

xxx

It was approaching noon as they arrived at the temple district, the group making their way along the paths and bridges that spanned the canals to the Order's compound in the south-east. It was an impressive collection of sandstone buildings, a myriad of domes and towers just visible above the high poplar-lined walls and Fritha could see why Anomen was proud to number in their ranks.

They skirted the outer wall, following the squire to the gatehouse though not all was as she would have expected as they rounded the corner, a strange commotion on the path before the gates. A handsome young man was at the foot of the slope up to the gatehouse and seemingly trying to woo the petite young lady who was stood on guard at the mouth. Her platemail glinting in the sunlight, its shine was rivalled only by that of her pale blonde hair, which was cut to at least an inch above her collar and falling in neat feathery layers about her pretty face.

'Oh, my fair Irlana, I am here to pledge to you the love of a poet and an artist. Take my fragile love, my sweet, and hold it tenderly to your heart.'

'Helm's mercy, not that fool again,' sighed Anomen with a clear dislike, continuing when Fritha glanced to him for an explanation, 'That fop has been loitering about here for a month or more now and subjecting all who pass to this torment whenever the Lady Irlana is on guard duty.'

'The woman has my _deepest _sympathies,' muttered Jaheira behind them and Fritha nodded, giving little more thought to the matter, that was until the man turned and began to walk towards them and she recognised just who it was.

'Is-?' she gasped, glancing briefly to Jaheira for confirmation, 'Isn't that Garrick?'

'You _know_ him?' came Anomen, looking disconcerted and Fritha shrugged.

'Well, yes, in-passing. His bard-mistress tried to kill us when we passed through Beregost in the spring. Garrick! Hey, Garrick!' she called, tripping lightly down the steps to meet him, Nalia and Anomen both following at a more decorous pace as the others made to settle where they were and await their return.

'Garrick?'

The young bard now appeared to be in deep conversation with a clump of bushes that were nestled in amongst the poplars against the outer walls, though he glanced up as she spoke, his blue eyes narrowed slightly.

'Er, yes? Do I know you?'

'I should think so!' Fritha laughed, 'We met in Beregost, outside the Red Sheaf inn. You were working for Silke at the time… though, admittedly, not for much longer after we met her.'

A pause to consider this and suddenly the lad was beaming.

'Ah yes, I thought you looked familiar, so nice to see you again, Freya!'

Anomen sighed deeply and disappeared through the gatehouse, clearly deciding the rest of this discourse would be a waste of his time, Nalia laughing into her sleeve as Fritha rolled her eyes.

'It's _Fritha_ and why are you talking to a bush?'

'I'm not, see,' he answered, pulling back one of the branches to reveal a well-dressed gnome, dark-haired and swarthy with a neat pointed beard and large crooked nose.

'Well met, ladies, I am Cyrando,' he said, sweeping off his wide-brimmed hat and bowing so deeply the feathers brushed the ground.

Fritha smiled, nodding her head in greeting as Garrick continued.

'So how have you been, Fritha? I believe I left you with plans to visit the Nashkel Mines.'

'Which we fulfilled. Then we travelled northwards, looking for a source to the Iron Crisis. Ended up in the Gate of all places before we, ah, came here. Yourself?'

'I headed south a few days after you did, joined up with a troupe that was part of the Nashkel fair. I travelled with them to Amn where we separated and I came to Athkatla with thoughts of getting passage to the Moonshaes when I was caught by Sune's fickle net. The Lady Irlana's noble beauty has stolen my heart, but alas, I did not even dare speak to her until Cyrando here agreed to help me. He has such a way with words, it is only now I feel I am getting close to showing her the depth of my regard.' Garrick shook his head, looking for a moment rueful. 'He is a good friend, and I am a poor excuse for a bard.'

'Come now, boy, cheer up!' said the gnome, clapping him heartily on the arm, 'Now have you learnt the last poem I wrote for you?'

The youth nodded, pulling a sheaf of parchment from his pocket.

'This is all very decent of you,' Nalia smiled, turning back to Cyrando as Garrick moved off again, hastily going over his notes as he went. The gnome's gaze followed him, his expression unreadable.

'For all his faults when it comes to the more courtly arts, he has something I lack…' Cyrando glanced to them, looking resigned as he confirmed, 'He is handsome by your standards, is he not?'

Fritha glanced across to where Garrick had returned to his courting of Irlana. It looked as though Cyrando's poem was being well enough received, the woman blushing slightly as she pretended she could not hear him, though Fritha could tell by the stilted delivery that Garrick was having trouble remembering the words. There was no denying he was handsome, his smooth face earnest and ruddy beneath a neatly cropped head of warm brown curls. She glanced to the girl next to her and raised an eyebrow. Nalia shrugged mildly as though she didn't care much either way, and Fritha turned back to Cyrando with a smile.

'I suppose a girl could do worse.'

'Indeed,' he nodded, 'and I see the conviction behind the nonchalance of your words. The boy is a god and I, regrettably, am not.'

Fritha frowned slightly, feeling she was missing something here.

'So you're helping Garrick to court Irlana because he's handsome?'

Nalia sighed impatiently, giving Cyrando a sympathetic look.

'Fritha, do not be so dense! You are in love with her as well, are you not, sir?'

Cyrando nodded once, determined in his dejection.

'It is so, my dear. I have loved the lady ever since I saw her at the theatre here a year or more past now. But I could never court her. The boy, Garrick uses my words and, in a way, my heart is laid bare to her; I must be satisfied with that.'

Fritha frowned slightly. Sad though the situation was, Cyrando's broken heart was more due to his own reluctance than anyone else's doings and by Nalia's look they were in agreement.

'So you have not even told her of your feelings…' she confirmed slowly, to which the gnome nodded. Nalia folded her arms abruptly. 'Well, that hardly seems fair; by not giving Irlana a choice you're making her decision for her.'

Cyrando looked rather taken aback.

'But she would never- I-I am unworthy to be with such a beauty.'

Fritha snorted.

'What nonsense! Besides, she might not think so,' the girl continued evenly and Nalia gave a nod.

'You do the lady a discredit. You assume she is too shallow to consider anything beyond appearance in a suitor.'

Cyrando mouthed silently a moment and Fritha felt rather sorry for him. This was clearly not the reaction he was used to receiving for his confessions of love unrequited.

'No, you do not understand. I, well, that is…'

Fritha sent him what she hoped was a kind smile.

'Well, either way, it doesn't seem like she's overly impressed with Garrick for all his looks, does it?'

The three turned as one to look again at the pair, Irlana's blush now intensified to an uncomfortable scarlet as the bard walked up to the gatehouse and tried to take her hand. Cyrando said nothing.

'Fritha,' called a familiar voice and she glanced up to see Anomen marching down the cobbled slope from the gates towards them, barely sparing the swain and his reluctant lady a glance. 'Sir Ryan Trawl would speak with us inside.'

'Ah, duty calls,' Fritha smiled, giving a parting nod to the gnome next to her as she and Nalia made to join Anomen before the gates. 'And remember, faint heart ne'er won fair maid.'

But Irlana was not going to let this opportunity for distraction pass her by it seemed, the woman glancing up to notice the squire and a smile suddenly lit her face.

'Greetings to you, Squire Anomen,' she called, at their side in but a few quick strides and leaving Garrick to slope back to Cyrando looking rather put out. 'We have not seen you here in a while.'

Anomen nodded, no less than beaming.

'Indeed, Lady Irlana. And you are as fair as when I left, I see. It is a pleasure to hear the melodious tones of your voice once again.'

Fritha gave a snort that she turned very hastily into a sneeze, Nalia next to her and fighting so hard against a grin it looked like she was chewing a toffee. Anomen turned to throw them both a scowl as Irlana continued.

'So Anomen, how go your quests?'

'Very well, my lady. We have only yesterday returned from Umar.'

She smiled generously, her blue eyes shining.

'Is that so? And these must be your companions.'

Anomen nodded once, turning slightly to introduce them.

'Indeed, this is Lady Nalia de'Arnise and Lady Fritha of Candlekeep.'

'Hello,' the girls chorused brightly.

'Well met,' Irlana responded, still smiling, 'I hear you have been given the task of leading our squire here on the path to glory.'

'Aye, for our sins,' agreed Fritha, shaking her head mournfully and sending a sly wink to Anomen. The three women laughed at his suddenly flushed complexion though he was saved from any further embarrassment as Garrick chose that exact moment to return, a fresh poem in hand, and Fritha and Anomen left Nalia and Irlana to suffer alone, passing under the shadow of the gatehouse and into the courtyard beyond.

Inside the walls, a large paved yard was lain out before her, a scattering of knights and squires milling about it engaged in various tasks and some nodded greetings to Anomen as they passed. He appeared to be headed for the huge stone hall that was stood opposite the gates and Fritha let her attention drift to the other buildings as they moved across the square, a blacksmith's forge and stables to her right, while what she assumed were the dormitories and refectory were in a long tall building on her left, the smell of cooking floating from the open windows.

'Ho, Anomen!' called a voice and Fritha glanced over to the stable wall where two men were stood; one tall and lean, his dark hair curling about his collar, the other shorter and blond, a wide smile on his young suntanned face as he held up a hand in greeting. Anomen did not stop to speak with them though, merely raised a hand as well as he marched smartly past and through the heavy ornate doors of the hall before them.

The room he led them into was large, airy and almost empty, the high narrow windows allowing in a surprising amount of light, while a huge statue of Torm stood at the other end of the hall opposite her and the cool silence Fritha suddenly found herself in was rather imposing. The floor in the centre of the room was sunken down, stout marble columns running about the edge and leaving a raised aisle that ran perimeter of the hall. Fritha followed Anomen as he turned to walk towards the left-hand side, the man drawing to a halt just beside the first pillar.

He leaned in slightly, his voice low as he nodded to the paladin who was stood beneath one of the high windows about halfway down, a tall and imposing man of middling years, his lined face stern beneath his dark hair.

'There, my lady, that is Sir Ryan Trawl, Knight Commander of the Order and my direct superior.'

Fritha nodded, though it seemed they had missed their chance to speak with him, the knight now talking to another older paladin, the man slightly shorter and broader than Trawl, his grey hair short and wiry. At her side, she could sense Anomen preparing to wait for them to finish, when the older man glanced up and was suddenly striding across to them, smiling genially.

'Ah, Squire Anomen, I was just speaking of you with Sir Ryan. You are making quite a name for yourself about Amn, are you not?'

'My lord,' Anomen nodded, raising his hand in formal salute as though he did not know how to reply to such a compliment and turning quickly to her. 'My lady, may I present Prelate Wessalen, the head of our Order, and Knight Commander Sir Ryan Trawl. Sirs, this is Lady Fritha of Candlekeep.'

Trawl bowed slightly, no change to his impassive expression, but Wessalen beamed.

'Ah, the Lady Fritha, is it? A pleasure, my dear. Squire Anomen has told us of his time with you so far and I can see you are indeed deserving of your reputation.'

Fritha didn't like to think _what_ Anomen might have said about her lately; she sincerely doubted it would have been anything complimentary.

'Thank you, sir. I, ah-'

'I beg your pardon, my lord,' came a small voice at her arm and she turned with the men to see a pale sandy-haired boy, who looked as though he would have rather been anywhere but there under the gaze of two of the highest-ranking knights within the Order. 'Sir Harn awaits you in your office.'

'Ah, Squire Marc,' the prelate confirmed genially, 'you have returned from Murann? Good, I expect Harn will have much news of the siege for us. Please go and tell the cook to send us through some tea –and find you something nice while he's at it,' he added with a friendly smile and the boy scuttled off, just looking relieved his ordeal was over. Wessalen sighed. 'Ah well, my duties call. It was most pleasant to make your acquaintance, my lady.' He bowed and kissed her hand. 'Squire Anomen, Sir Ryan.'

Fritha watched as he marched unhurriedly down the aisle and disappeared through a plain set of doors at the back of the hall she had not yet noticed.

'Well,' began Trawl, and she quickly turned her attention back to the remaining knight, Anomen at her side and almost rigid in his stance as the man continued. 'I am glad you have come, my lady. There is a matter of a rather sensitive nature in which I believe your group may be able to aid the Order and you will, of course, be well compensated for the task.'

'We are ready to serve, sir,' said Anomen gravely and Trawl nodded once, turning slightly towards her.

'You no doubt understand, my lady, the life of a paladin is not easy. Many break under the demands of our path and leave to pursue avenues… ' he paused, a slight frown creasing his brow as though he found the idea distasteful, 'more appropriate to their talents,' he finished eventually. 'Sometimes, though, they bend in stead of break, turning their paladinhood to serve their own purposes. These ones are hard to detect, but when found they are quickly cast out.'

Fritha blinked at this careless description of cold abandonment, but said nothing. Such groups were known for their severity and she should have expected no less of the Order.

'Recently one of our highest-ranking knights was implicated in smuggling slaves. His name is Anarg and though he was once a friend he was expelled from the Order. We thought that the end of it, but he took others with him when he left. Their loss could have been tolerated, but we have recently heard rumours that they are still claiming to be members of the Order, using the influence such an association can affect to gain a foothold in and around the Bridge district through extortion and threats.'

Trawl let his stern gaze travel over them both.

'Word has it, they are casting about for allies to help strengthen and expand their position in the city and your group has enough of a reputation about Athkatla now to make you a desirable ally. I would ask that you approach them, determine the threat they pose and act accordingly. Have you any further questions, my lady?'

Fritha shook her head. Though it all sounded simple enough she could not quell the slight reservations that were squirming within her.

'No, sir, I have not.'

He nodded once.

'Then, I shall bid you both good day. Helm be with you.'

xxx

Outside, Anomen gazed across the courtyard, warm and familiar under a high sun. His friends, Simon and Erick, were still stood by the stables watching them, the squire as glad to see them as he was to find no sign of the newly-knighted Cadril; any meeting with the man sure to pick at his already frayed temper. Anomen felt beyond tired, unable to sleep the night before for dwelling on memories best forgotten. And when he finally had, his dreams were a disturbing jumble of images, worries for his father haunting the only rest he had managed to get.

_Just as Fritha had predicted…_ his mind prompted and he was suddenly very aware of the girl stood next to him. Anomen glanced down at her, Fritha looking out over the courtyard as he had been, though he could tell by her slight frown that she was deep in thought, no doubt planning out their next few days in the city. He should not have shouted at her yesterday. Though calling to him in the street was not the most ladylike behaviour, his anger had stemmed more from his embarrassment at what Cadril had thought than anything else and he should not have vented his temper on the girl.

And, of course, he _had_ planned to apologise to her the previous evening, his meeting with Oisig and subsequent prayers calming him as nothing else could. But then the girl had not returned from her theatre before he had retired and that morning had found her never far from Nalia to the point where he wondered whether Fritha wasn't avoiding him. Anomen sighed slightly. Now the whole affair felt too far passed to dredge up again with an apology, for Fritha seemed happy enough to pretend the altercation had never happened and he himself was reluctant to bring it up and feel his shame anew.

Anomen shook his head. He had to let the past go, his transgressions and his worries both, and focus on the future. Sir Ryan Trawl had entrusted them with this task and he would be the one to see it done; a good opportunity to directly serve the Order and his knight. At his side, Fritha stirred.

'Right, well, I'll go and let the others know our plans,' she began, glancing to his friends and smiling slightly. 'Just join us when you're ready.'

He nodded once. 'My lady.'

She nodded as well and he watched as she walked across the sunlit courtyard and disappeared through the gatehouse. An instant later Simon was at his side, a broad grin on his round boyish face, while Erick was not long behind him.

'Who was that?'

Anomen shook himself, half his mind still on his knight's words.

'Sorry? Oh, that was Fritha.'

'_Fritha_?' Simon confirmed with incredulous delight. 'Your _leader_?'

Anomen gave a curt nod.

'Yes, she has afforded me much guidance. She is very… capable.'

'_Capable_?' Simon repeated, staring back at him open-mouthed, 'Anomen, she's radiant!'

Erick laughed heartily, clapping the younger man on the back as Simon continued, shaking his head at Anomen as though sorry for him.

'You Helmites are all the same; all those thoughts of duty keep your blood cold. _We_ know how to follow our hearts,' he laughed, patting the symbol of Lathander that hung on a cord about his neck.

'Come, Anomen, our honour as Watchers rests upon your shoulders,' said Erick, a broad smile gracing his sculpted features, but all Anomen could muster was a frown.

'We are _not_ cold-blooded!'

Simon shrugged mildly.

'As you say, but you must introduce me.'

'I will not! And your attitude does not become a knight of the Order!'

'Then it is fortunate they haven't made me one yet, isn't it?' he grinned, and before Anomen could say another word, he'd turned smartly on his heel and was heading for the gatehouse. Anomen took one look at Erick and set off in hasty pursuit.

'Sweet Sunrise, there's more of them!' came a familiar cry from outside the walls, and the pair passed under the gatehouse to find Simon stood just before it, his grey eyes scanning the gathering of people scattered about the paths below. 'Who's the tall one? She is glorious, though slightly fearsome. And the elf is with you as well? Positively angelic! And isn't that Lady Nalia de'Arnise?'

'Simon,' Anomen hissed, but his friend had already been noticed by Irlana.

'Squire Simon, you must come and meet my new acquaintances,' she called in her clear bright tones and the man was more than happy to oblige. Anomen watched as he strolled over to her, being introduced to everyone in turn before joining Nalia and Irlana, the three sharing a brief conversation, glancing over to him and laughing at something Simon said before the man returned to his side, beaming.

'Gods, you have fallen on your feet there and no mistake! The elf, Aerie, is very pretty, but a little too obvious and Lady Nalia is as pleasant as ever she was, but I think my favourite is still Fritha; she has a lovely smile, don't you think?'

'I'm _sure_ I haven't noticed,' said Anomen sourly.

Erick laughed and Simon sighed, the squire suppressing rolling his eyes with some difficulty.

'Well, look on it _now _then.'

Anomen glanced across to Fritha, who was currently sat on the far wall opposite them and leaning backwards over the canal, Haer'Dalis daring her to go further as Aerie told him off and wrung her sleeves. Suddenly, Fritha overbalanced with a shriek, her arms flailing, and Anomen felt himself start forward as the tiefling did, though neither man was required as the girl straightened unaided, laughing merrily at her trick. He turned slowly back to Simon who was grinning widely.

'The girl is an idiot.'

'I thought she was capable?' interjected Erick mildly.

Simon laughed.

'She is merely high-spirited, Anomen, and very nicely it becomes her too. Come now, you should at least be able to see she is fair even if it is beyond you to appreciate it. Even Cadril thinks so.'

'_Cadril_? What has that braggart got to do with it?'

Simon looked expectantly to Erick who shrugged.

'Oh, I merely overheard him in the dormitories yesterday, telling his friends about some jewel of a girl he had seen in your company.'

Anomen was almost tempted to ask Erick whether he was sure it had been Fritha, when he suddenly recalled the way Cadril had stared up at the girl as she had called to him from the window; the incredulity in the man's tone as he had asked if she was his…

Anomen felt a surge of anger. That arrogant braggart didn't think he could win the favour of a lady! And, of course, he thought Fritha was pretty in her own way, she was merely not the sort of girl he usually considered attractive.

Anomen was not inexperienced around women. Indeed, the seminary where he spent his teenage years had been located but a few miles from a small town, and he had had relationships with a couple of the local girls over the years, though there had not really been anyone since he returned to Athkatla and joined the Order's ranks.

He thought back to Aveline, the golden-haired young lady whom he had met when he was but sixteen winters old. She had been a daughter of one of the local noble families and they had met when she had visited the seminary with her family to be present as her elder brother was ordained. They had begun a tentative courtship, one of shy looks and stuttered pledges, and appropriate to their youth and inexperience. But she had been sent to stay with her relatives in Athkatla upon her seventeen birthday just a year later, more than likely to improve her chances of a good match, though such was never said out loud and he had not seen her since.

And then a year or so later he had met Theda through mutual friends. Anomen felt himself smile absently. He could still recall the way her fine green eyes would shine as she would tell him of her latest service to her god. An acolyte at the nearby temple to Tyr, she was training to be a cleric as he was and their good-natured rivalry soon blossomed into a more intimate relationship, though it was perhaps based more on a physical attraction than the innocent adoration of his previous courtship and she had understood when he too returned to the city to pursue his dreams of knighthood; her sense of duty in such matters as strong as his own.

But had they been of noble blood or merely possessing of a noble heart, bothladies had held a certain quiet poise; virtuous, dutiful and _nothing_ like Fritha.

'There is a thoughtful look to your eyes, Anomen,' teased Simon, smiling broadly, 'Could it be you have enjoyed a change of _heart_?

Anomen sighed tersely.

'Fritha's appearance is of no more concern to me that yours is, Simon. She is my leader just as the others I travel with are my companions and nothing more. I have my gaze firmly set upon the goal of my knighthood… an example you could do with following.'

Simon shook his head, looking both amused and exasperated.

'Fine, as you would have it, Anomen. That group is clearly wasted on you. Come on, Erick, let us leave him to the ladies. Farewell, Anomen.'

And Anomen watched as his friends disappeared through the gates, the squire turning his attention back to the group before him. Irlana and the other girls were giggling and flushed and even Jaheira was smiling slightly as Haer'Dalis played the wit at the expense of Garrick's resumed attempts at courtship.

'Oh, my fair Lady Irlana, hear this poem and-'

'-try not to weep at the _atrocious_ delivery,' cut in Haer'Dalis with a grin.

'_And know_,' continued Garrick impatiently, almost drowned out by their giggling, 'my- my regard for you is undying! _My heart is heavy with this love, for which I'll bare my soul to prove. With tender words and honesty_-'

'And the ceasing of this travesty!'

Anomen snorted in spite of himself, the girls all looking quite pretty as they were lost to laughter once more; perhaps he appreciated this company more than he had admitted.


	38. Strut and fret

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

_Author's note: I had hoped to get this chapter published quite a while ago, but I've just bought my first house and painting has had a far greater claim on my time than I ever envisioned (or desired). Still, we got there in the end, so a quick 'thank you' to everyone who reviewed and messaged, and to my betas for their invaluable help and for listening to me whinging about how much I hate decorating.  
_

_For Alexandra Mary Anderson _

**Strut and fret**

Aerie looked up to the square of pale blue sky just beyond her window, the room about her seeming so much larger where she was sat, on the hearthrug before an empty grate, Nalia next to her, sat cross-legged with her skirts pooled about her while Fritha was at her side, legs stretched out and hair loose as she lounged against the fireplace with an easy grace, a large carafe of deep red wine set on the hearth between the three.

The group had split up after they had left the Order, Aerie and the others returning to the Coronet for lunch, while Nalia went with Fritha to see if Renal had any idea where the disgraced knights might be gathering. The pair returned an hour or so later with a potential location and in a much better mood for their trip, Fritha, who had been so sullen at breakfast, full of smiles as she told the table of their meeting with the old thief master. Of course, this had prompted yet _another_ quarrel between Fritha and Anomen, though Fritha had borne her half with an almost playful civility. Or, at least that was until the three girls had retreated up to Aerie's room, the wine they ordered going a long way to calming the very irate young woman.

Aerie glanced to her, the girl smiling as Nalia showed her some of her latest embroidery. Though the elf could understand Anomen's dislike of Renal, the squire knew how Fritha felt about the man and Aerie did not know why he deemed it necessary to tell the girl of his distrust every time the thief master was mentioned. That Anomen had been irascible lately was putting it mildly and Aerie wondered absently what could have troubled him so, though she suspected from the restraint Fritha was showing, at least in the squire's presence, that the girl may have a good idea.

'So why are you in a mard with the sparrow today?' asked Fritha abruptly, Aerie glancing up to find the two looking at her and it took the elf a moment to realise she was speaking to her.

'In- in a _what_?'

'In an ill-humour, Aerie,' explained Nalia, giving Fritha a fond if exasperated look as she sipped her wine. Aerie bit her lower lip with a frown.

'Oh, well…'

She had attended the circus last night, walking through the gloaming streets as she made her way to the promenade alone. That Haer'Dalis had been unable to join her had been disappointing at first, but she had soon found herself looking forward to the chance to catch up with her friends and uncle, uninterrupted by the more formal atmosphere that would accompany the entrance of an outsider.

But she arrived to something quite different from the easy air of reunion she had been expecting, everyone greeting her and clearly uncomfortable behind their smiles, though were denying it and it was only when her uncle had arrived that she'd discovered the reason for their disquiet. Aerie sighed, the girls still patiently waiting for her to begin.

'I'm not angry with Haer'Dalis, not at all, it's just… last night when I arrived at the circus without him, everyone was acting so strangely and then when I asked my uncle why, he said that they had noticed Haer'Dalis was not with me and they thought we had separated.'

Nalia frowned slightly. 'That is an odd assumption to make.'

'That's just what I said!' Aerie cried, the girl's agreement bolstering her, 'And Uncle Quayle said- he said that it was not that they did not like Haer'Dalis, but with us being so different they had not expected it to last…'

Aerie let her mind drift back to the night before, picturing her friends as they had been, stood about her in an uncomfortable silence that was a stark contrast to the brightly coloured costumes they were still wearing from their last performance as Quayle gave a voice to their concerns. Of course, she had refuted it vehemently at the time and their group had eventually returned to the easy camaraderie she had been expecting. But Aerie could not seem to forget their words and though it was hardly Haer'Dalis's fault, she was finding it difficult to speak with the man that day, her thoughts and feelings towards him all a jumble.

Something not helped by the unsettling darkness she had sensed in him only the previous morning. Aerie had always known he was tiefling, but she never really realised what that meant before and the fact that he was actually part demon and _very _different from her was an idea she could not seem to shake.

'Well…' came Fritha after a moment, the girl sending Nalia the same wary look her circus friends had shared as she continued gently. 'You can't really blame them, Aerie. I mean they were probably only worried for you and you and Haer'Dalis are very different; you used to say as much yourself sometimes.'

'Well, yes,' Aerie conceded, hastily trying to explain the difference, 'but that was before, when I was less certain of his feelings, the way he would never speak of the future, but now… Though he will still never speak of it directly, only the other day he said…' she smiled and flushed soundly, 'he said that some birds pair for life.'

Fritha glanced to Nalia and the two burst out laughing, Aerie folding her arms with a disgruntled sigh.

'Oh, be quiet! I thought it was really sweet.'

'Oh, we were only playing,' soothed Nalia, taking another sip of wine as she patted her arm. 'Besides, of all things, courting is _thoroughly _subjective. I remember when I was attending a tournament a couple of summers ago in Riatavin with Father. I was quite well acquainted with a sister of one of the knights competing, and before the joust her brother sought me out and told me he would struggle for victory in my name.'

Aerie smiled, feeling a pleasant flutter just under her ribs as she imagined it happening to her.

'Oh, that's so romantic.'

Nalia quirked a stern eyebrow.

'Is it? As I pointed out to him, he was aiming to win anyway whether for me or himself, so it was hardly a sacrifice on his part.'

Aerie sighed as Fritha laughed delightedly; the romance of such chivalry was clearly wasted on them.

'Gods, I can just see you doing it as well!' Fritha cried, still beaming. 'What did he do?'

Nalia shrugged nonchalantly.

'Stormed off in a huff. I got a bit of a reputation as a shrew after that.' She smiled wryly. 'No wonder I ended up betrothed to Isea.'

Even Aerie joined in the laughter that time, Fritha kneeling to refill their cups, the girl shaking her head with exasperation.

'Knights! Are they _all_ of a sort? I'll warrant Anomen would have acted in exactly the same way. They all speak so prettily and say such mean things!'

'I don't know,' considered Nalia thoughtfully, 'Squire Simon seemed most amicable.'

Fritha grinned.

'All right, I take it back. He was quite lovely actually. He could certainly give our own squire some lessons in charm. Can you imagine?' she laughed, catching up Nalia's hand and holding it to her chest as she continued deeply, 'My lady, I don't know if it was those ten pints of mead I've just necked, but you're looking particularly beautiful.'

Nalia laughed, pulling back her hand to bat Fritha lightly and Aerie smiled, drawn back to her previous musings.

'Do we know why Anomen is so quick tempered at the moment?' she asked the room, though her question was meant for Fritha, Nalia turning towards the girl as well and suddenly frowning.

'Yes, I could hardly believe it earlier he was berating you about Renal _again_!'

'Now don't you getting involved, dearest,' Fritha warned, patting her arm. 'The last thing we need is for it to grow into a group-wide squabble. I'm sure the whole matter will just blow over if we all keep our patience with him.'

'Just as you were?' asked Aerie innocently, fighting against a smile as she recalled the girl's previous fury. "_That man! That overbearing lout! One more word about us working with the thieves, just _one_, and I'll wring his bloody neck!"_

Fritha smiled sheepishly into her cup. 'Exactly.'

Aerie and Nalia laughed warmly; if Fritha knew anything of the squire's sudden ill-humour she was saying nothing.

'And since we're on the subject of patience,' Fritha continued playfully, 'do you have any plans to let Haer'Dalis know why you were trying his this morning?'

Aerie's smile faded.

'You mean tell him what my uncle and everyone said? I-I don't think I could bear to,' she admitted ruefully. 'He would pretend not to care what they thought whether he did or not. He can be so guarded at times, so distant; I sometimes feel I barely know him.' She sighed slightly, taking another sip of wine. 'It is a shame he's not an elf, at least then we could share reverie.'

Fritha raised an eyebrow. 'Oh, is that what they're calling it now?'

Cue raucous laughter from the girls, but even as Aerie giggled along with the pair, she could not help but wonder whether Haer'Dalis would have agreed to share reverie even if they could. It was rare he spoke of his past. She had told him everything of her own over the past few tenday; of her capture and imprisonment; of losing her family and finding the circus. And he had always been ready to listen and comfort her, just never to reciprocate…  
Oh, he was always there with some merry tale of the troupe of the like, but of _his_ past, he was a silent as the grave. Aerie frowned at this morbid turn of phrase; how the bard would have laughed if he had heard her.

'There she goes again,' sighed Nalia with a smile, and Aerie started to find them both watching her, 'back to his arms. Which amorous assignation were you reliving that time?'

The elf flushed and shook her head. 'No, nothing.'

Fritha sent the girl next to her a grin.

'Must have been good.'

'Are you in love with him, Aerie?' asked Nalia, giving her an unusually piercing look and Aerie shrugged.

'At first, I would have said yes without a thought… and I _do_ love him,' she added earnestly, worried they would doubt it, 'but _in love_ with him… I- I don't know. How can you tell?'

Fritha smiled playfully. 'I'll field this one. Whenever you see him it feels like you're going to be sick.'

'I must have been in love with Isea then,' commented Nalia dryly and the three laughed.

'No, not like that, like, nice sick,' Fritha continued, grinning widely as she clutched her stomach, 'Oh, owww…'

Aerie watched the girls as they giggled and played, Fritha now crying affectedly about suffering from 'the vapours' as Nalia laughed and fanned her with her shawl.

Was her uncle right? She had just admitted herself she was not in love with Haer'Dalis. She had hoped such would grow with time and intimacy but perhaps they _were_ too different. She felt so distanced from the bard sometimes, but how much of that had been her own doing? A subconscious fear of what she would see within him if she looked deep enough…

The elf glanced to her friends who were still giggling into their cups, Fritha going to flick her hair in a coquettish manner only to get her fingers tangled in it and rouse even more laughter.

How could you expect to fall in love if you refused to let yourself?

Aerie smiled slightly.

The answer was, you could not.

xxx

Fritha yawned widely and locked her door, stretching as she slipped the key back into her bag and set off down the corridor, the hallway empty about her though she could hear the sounds of the patrons drifting up from the tavern below, unusually noisy since the evening meal should have been served and cleared again by that hour. The afternoon with the girls had been pleasant though she had not stayed long into the second carafe, the wine and her previous late night leaving her sleepy and she returned to her room, stoking up the fire and pulling the blankets from her bed to cocoon herself before the hearth and doze the afternoon away.

She had awoken hours later, the world outside greying as dusk fell and she'd just taken enough time to change her tunic and wash her face before setting out to find her friends. Fritha smiled and stretched again, reaching her arms high above her to playfully brush the archway to the landing as she passed under it.

'Trying to stretch a couple more inches to your height, my raven? I should not bother, the dearth of stature suits you.'

'Haer'Dalis!' she laughed, turning to see the man walking along the hallway towards her, clearly having come from his own room and the girl waited for him to reach her. 'What are you doing?'

'Coming to fetch you!' he answered brightly. 'All have been gathered downstairs for hours now, though it is hardly a table without our raven. I wished to come hours ago, but the girls said you were sleeping and I wasn't to disturb you.' The bard smiled slyly. 'They disappeared off to change their robes a moment ago though, so here I am. Tell me, did you enjoy your afternoon?'

Fritha thought back to the wine and laughter and poor Aerie's worries for their relationship. The elf had seemed concerned by the idea that she was not in love with the man, but Fritha had found her confession rather heartening. Such depth of regard could only be expected to come with time and if Aerie had been claiming such now Fritha would have dismissed it as the continuation of her previous infatuation. She smiled innocently.

'My afternoon? Oh, yes, very nice, though I spent most of it listening to Aerie going on about some chap she's keen on, what was his name now?' she considered aloud, tapping her chin thoughtfully a moment before shrugging. 'Anyway, apparently she's all besotten -or smitted, one of the two.'

Haer'Dalis laughed warmly, looking rather pleased.

'Ah, the merry little raven, you are always able to tempt a smile from me. The dove has been in a much better temperament since her time with you; I assume you said something?'

Fritha shook her head, her answer just skirting the wrong side of the truth.

'Not at all, though I am glad that whatever was upsetting her has blown over.'

'Indeed,' he replied slowly, clearly unconvinced before he blithely changed the subject. 'It is actually the dove's birthday soon, the ninth of this month, though she tells me it is not one she would usually observe; apparently elves of the Prime do not celebrate every year.'

Fritha laughed brightly.

'More fool them then! A year's as long whether you'll live fifty or five hundred of them.'

The bard grinned.

'Ah, my raven, you and I are ever of the same mind. I assume we will be celebrating it then.'

'Of course! Any excuse for a party. We'll shall have to arrange something closer to the day.'

'Indeed and speaking of opportunities to make merry, we have one this evening as well. A group a minstrels from, oh, somewhere north of here' the tiefling continued indifferently, seemingly unconcerned that quite a bit of Faerûn fell under such a description, 'are setting up down stairs as we speak.'

'Lehtinan has hired musicians?' confirmed Fritha, surprised by the landlord's sudden departure from his usual meanness.

'Not exactly. I was speaking with them earlier. They have been playing over at the Seven Vales this last tenday, and were due to take a caravan north this morning, but there was a delay in their setting out and landlady already has another group booked to play at the Vales, so Lehtinan offered them a night's board here in exchange for a performance. Come my raven, they are an interesting enough group, you should be introduced.'

Fritha smiled, the man's enthusiasm rousing her own and she followed Haer'Dalis down into the tavern, the man ignoring the table where Jaheira, Anomen and Minsc were already sat to lead her across the room. A good quarter of the common room had been cleared of tables to make a rudimentary dance floor and in the far corner a jumble of chairs and instruments were nestled, though there was no sigh of the band, the only one there a lone man with greying hair and a wild tangle of a beard.

'Haer'Dalis, well met again!' he greeted kindly as they approached, his voice mellow with an accent Fritha placed as from the Dalelands, though the exact region escaped her. At her side the tiefling bowed slightly, turning to present her with a flourish.

'Jorric, this is Fritha, the one of whom I spoke before. She owns one of the local theatres here, the playhouse under the Five Flagons. If you were staying any longer in the city perhaps she could have arranged some performances in the tavern for you.'

The man smiled warmly, his eyes sparkling as he turned to her.

'Ah, miss, that would be right kind of ye, but our home calls and we must leave 'fore the snows set in.'

'Fair enough, sir,' Fritha nodded politely, her eyes drawn to the round-backed long-necked string instrument in his hands.

'Tis a yarting, miss,' he explained, clearly noticing her looking, 'and your curiosity mirrors my own when I first seed one, oh, must be ten year or more ago now. They are quite rare in the north, though much more popular down here in Amn and further south. They are similar to sitars, though the sound is much fuller, don't ye find?'

He strummed a chord, a warm full note hanging in the air before it was lost in the general din of the tavern and Fritha beamed, Haer'Dalis nodding knowledgeably.

'Ah, yes, I have seen similar in Sigil. There they are known as guitars, though neither seem too dissimilar to the lute you play so well.'

Jorric turned to her and Fritha felt her stomach lurch so violently she felt suddenly sick.

'Ye play the lute, miss?

'No, no, not really,' she countered hastily, but Haer'Dalis was having none of it, the tiefling smiling broadly as he was helping her to a real treat.

'Nonsense. Despite her name, the raven here is quite the lark. I'm sure she can give you a tune.'

Jorric glanced between them before holding the instrument out to her with an encouraging smile.

'Well, if ye can play the lute, tis merely a step from there; I would gladly show ye.'

'No, he's just joking, really, no.'

'Come now, this sparrow is sure he has heard you-'

'I'm sorry, sir,' Fritha interrupted briskly, barely sparing Haer'Dalis a glance as she bowed to the bewildered musician, 'I don't think I can help you. Well, I am sure we have disturbed you long enough, my thanks, sir.'

And with that, she turned quickly on her heel to march across the open floor, the bard catching her just as she reached the first table.

'Not funny, Haer'Dalis.'

'It was merely in jest-'

'Yes and taken entirely too far!' she snapped, whirling on him, her voice coming shrill as she fought against the surge of emotions within her. Haer'Dalis frowned, though more with concern than any irritation at her tone, the man laying a hand upon her arm.

'Peace, my raven, I did not think it would affect you so. For all your previous claims of being stage shy, you do not seem to mind making a spectacle of yourself at the city gates yesterday, and you played very well back in the theatre with Marcus and I.'

Fritha shook her head, trying to find the words to explain to him something she barely understood herself.

'That's different, you and Marcus were playing too. And besides, I can do anything if it's not supposed to be serious, if it's just to make people laugh. But to be stood there, with people watching me and not laughing, but just thinking things…' Fritha shook her head again, her face growing hot even as she imagined it. 'Oh, no, no. That would be horrible.'

She glanced up to find Haer'Dalis still staring at her with a bemused look, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

'Why, I do not even believe the playing has anything to do with it, you merely do not like people looking at you.'

'Well, no, not unless I'm prepared for it,' she agreed crossly. His incredulity at something she thought quite reasonable was rather annoying, though the bard just laughed.

'Well, whatever the reason, it was not my intention to upset you. I am sorry, Fritha.'

His hand was still about her arm and he squeezed it lightly as he spoke. Haer'Dalis did not usually apologise for anything, nor use her name and the whole thing felt like much more than his words suggested. The tiefling smiled suddenly and released her. 'Come, let us return to the table. I much prefer it when it is the knightling upsetting you and I can step in with some well-placed wit.'

Fritha nodded, already feeling rather silly about her outburst and she was glad that Haer'Dalis seemed happy to forget it had even happened as they moved to join the others. A cup of wine and some laughter later and their group was finally complete as the girls arrived back at the table, both flushed pink and quite giggly, Aerie glowing in robes of yellow while Nalia looked just as fair in a dress of dark blue, the garlands of amber leaves she had embroidered about the neck complementing her hair most beautifully.

'Fritha, you're here,' Aerie smiled, 'We went to call for you, but you had already left. I suppose Haer'Dalis beat us to it.' She laughed, sending the man a mildly reproving look as she took the seat next to him, the elf hesitating a moment before leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek. The table about them seemed to stop at this unprecedented display of affection, the man himself looking rather surprised but pleased all the same while Fritha and Nalia hid quiet laughter in their sleeves, though any comments were forestalled as the band started up, Haer'Dalis instantly asking the elf to dance.

And the evening passed pleasantly in a round of music and dancing, the revelry as good a distraction as any from his worries as any and Anomen rather enjoyed it, though he himself did not partake, content enough to sit at the table with Jaheira watching as Haer'Dalis and the girls and, on occasion, even Minsc joined the other couples on the floor.

Anomen gazed out of the window next to him, the street outside reduced to deep blue shadows as the hour grew later. The musicians were having a break between pieces, Haer'Dalis taking the opportunity to collect another round of drinks from the bar while the rest of the table talked quietly.

'Oh, excuse me,' sighed Nalia and Anomen glanced back to watch as she stifled a yawn in her sleeve, Fritha laughing brightly.

'You should have had a sleep this afternoon like I did.'

'I'm beginning to wish I had,' the girl agreed, her nose crinkling delicately as she hid yet another yawn. 'Oh, it's no good, I shall have to retire for the evening.'

At Anomen's side, Minsc nodded rolling his broad shoulders.

'Minsc leaves for bed as well. As Boo says, when much ale has been had, much sleep is needed.'

'Oh good,' cried Aerie, standing hastily as well. 'If two of you are going, that means I can too.'

'You?' exclaimed Fritha, staring up at her, 'I thought you were having fun dancing with Haer'Dalis?'

Aerie sighed wearily.

'Oh, I am, but I'm so tired and he always wants to dance so complicatedly. I've said I wanted to retire, but it's been 'just one final dance' for the last _hour_ now … just tell him I've gone to bed, won't you?'

Fritha shrugged mildly. 'All right, but don't blame me if it breaks his heart.'

'Oh, be quite!' Aerie snapped, but Fritha just laughed, standing to gently hook a stray lock of hair behind Nalia's ear.

'Sleep well, poppet.'

Nalia gave a warm laugh and nodded.

'I will, enjoy the rest of your evening, dearest. Goodnight everyone.'

'What is this?' came a familiar voice moments later when Haer'Dalis return to the table, and Anomen glanced up to find the tiefling stood, a tray of drinks balanced on one hand as he stared down at Fritha, 'We have lost half the group! Where is my dove?'

'Flown back to her cote, I'm afraid, sparrow. She was tired,' the girl explained, tactfully leaving out just exactly what the elf had been tired of and Anomen hid his smile in his cup. 'So were Nalia and Minsc.'

'Ah well,' Haer'Dalis sighed, setting down the tray as across the tavern the first few strains of a bransle began to play, 'a pity, to be sure. But I will settle for your hand if you will deign to lend it, my raven.'

Anomen frowned, riled by the way the man was so blithely presenting her with the fact she was not his preference. But if Fritha was injured by this insensitivity she was hiding it, the girl merely giving him an appraising look, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

'Dance with _you_? Well, beggars can't be choosers, I suppose.'

Haer'Dalis just laughed genially though, taking her hand as she rose and the pair moved off to the floor.

Anomen watched them as they joined the rows of people already there, the girl tapping her foot to the beat as they found their place and began. They danced well together, both seemingly able to read the subtleties of the music and each other to make even the most complicated series of steps look natural and easy, the pair laughing and talking as they went.

Anomen thought they would rejoin himself and the druid after a few dances but it was not so, the pair moving off to chat with the musicians in the breaks between the sets and it was at least an hour later before they returned, Fritha dancing over to their table, a cup in her hand and a smile on her face, the tiefling not far behind her.

'Hello, you two, enjoying the music?' she asked, turning to him with a smile and Anomen suspected the wine had helped warm her to him since their last argument, 'You should come and have a dance, Anomen. Lighten your heart along with your heels.'

Haer'Dalis smiled broadly as well, though his eyes remained narrow.

'Indeed, I'm sure Fritha could teach you a thing or two, knightling.'

Anomen frowned, though more at the bard's tone than Fritha's invitation.

'No, I do not think so.'

Fritha just shrugged, but the tiefling remained undeterred, turning his attentions to the woman next to him.

'Come now, my good druid, take a turn with me- I'll even let you lead,' he added cheekily and the woman snorted, a wry smile pulling at her mouth.

'Tempting though such an offer is, I will have to decline.'

Fritha turned to Haer'Dalis with a sigh.

'Sorry, sparrow, looks like you're with me.'

The bard smiled, taking her arm as he made to lead her back to the floor. 'In all things, my raven.'

Anomen turned away from them feeling unreasonably irritated and taking a long draft of his ale as he waited for it to subside, Jaheira across the table and watching him with a contemplative look.

'You know there would have been no harm in accepting her offer.'

Anomen bristled, the feelings of annoyance rising. 'And yet I note _you _refused as well.'

'Yes, but _I_ did not wish to dance.'

Anomen snorted crossly and dropped his attention back to his cup, though he did not drink again, silence descending over the table before Jaheira broke it with a sigh.

'So Squire Anomen, what do you plan when we meet with these knights of yours?'

Anomen glanced up, expecting to find her watching him again, but her eyes were trained on her cup.

'They are knights no longer and when the time comes, I shall follow the doctrines of the Order. I could do naught else.'

Jaheira nodded absently, still not looking to him as she continued.

'No, no, of course not… It is important, the service of those you have sworn alliance to… and yet it is more than that. It is not just a simple contract, soulless and barren; it is friendship, loyalty.' The woman sighed and shook her head. 'The others would not understand it, the knowledge there is always something to which you belong, that will fight alongside you, that embodies your ideals as though an extension of yourself, until you wonder if you could even stand apart from it…'

She trailed off distractedly to take another mouthful of wine. Though by no means drunk, Jaheira seemed much more emotive than usual, the woman pale in the flickering lamplight, her angular face dominated by eyes that held a lot more uncertainty than he was used to seeing in them and Anomen found it a touch unsettling.

A silence had fallen between them again and the squire glanced absently over to the floor, barely a handful of couples sweeping about it now, the late hour no doubt to blame and he found Fritha and the bard easily. The pair were dancing still, though much less formally than before, the bard holding her closer and putting in extra steps here and there to try and catch her out, the girl laughing joyously as she thwarted his efforts. Anomen frowned, glad of a reason to change the subject.

'Those two seem to be growing rather… familiar. Do you not think something should be said?' he prompted as the song ended, Haer'Dalis kissing their still entwined hands fondly as they made their final obeisance. But Jaheira just smiled and shook her head.

'My worries concerning those two were long ago laid to rest.' She sighed deeply, emptying her cup as she rose from her chair. 'Well, this day has been long enough for me. Goodnight, Anomen.'

'My lady.'

Anomen watched her leave before turning back to the floor. He had not noticed when he and Jaheira had been talking, but the music had stopped and the tavern seemed suddenly very quiet without it. He let his eyes find the pair again, now laughing and talking with the band as they packed up. Haer'Dalis was sat upon a table, a casual arm about the girl perched happily next to him, Fritha stifling a yawn as she rested her head upon his shoulder and Anomen felt a twist of irritation in his stomach. He did not care what the druid said, he was of the Watchers and had once had a sister of Fritha's age; he knew an infatuation when presented with one.

Anomen sighed and emptied his cup, turning contemplatively to the bar. He needed no more ale, he was tired and had drunk enough that evening that sleep seemed likely. But part of him did not what to leave yet, not when it would mean Fritha and Haer'Dalis would be left alone together and Anomen wondered absently how long he would feel compelled to persist with his foolishness before his tiredness won over and he retired without them.

Fritha left the tiefling to it after a few moments though, dropping lightly from her seat to drift back to his now empty table, the girl looking tired but blissfully happy, her pale cheeks warmed to a mellow pink and Anomen felt another twinge of annoyance.

'Hello Anomen,' she sang, a slight frown creasing her brow as she continued, 'what are you doing still down here? The moon must be well risen by now.'

The squire dropped his attention back to his cup, suddenly melancholy.

'Sleep does not hold the rest for me it once did.'

'Ah, yes,' the girl continued gently, 'the dreams of your sister. I am sorry. It's not easy seeing ones lost to you, is it? The sages say you can never think too long on those departed, but I find a balance between living and remembering serves me better.'

'Indeed, you were certainly focusing on the former aspect of that this evening, though I wonder whether diverting yourself so may not have been a touch ill-advised,' he warned, adding when she persisted to look confused, 'I do not think it was appropriate for you to have been dancing like that with Haer'Dalis. What would Aerie have thought?'

Fritha just shrugged though, looking supremely unconcerned.

'I really don't think Aerie would have been bothered and if _you_ were, you should have come and danced with me when I offered.'

Anomen felt himself flush, temper and embarrassment rising as one.

'And make a fool of myself along with you?' he snapped, but Fritha merely sighed tiredly, sending him a measured look.

'I wonder sometimes if even _you _yourself believe what you say, or whether it is just you have always said as such and you feel others will expect it of you. Goodnight, Anomen.'

And with that, she downed the last of her wine and tripped off towards the stairs. Anomen watched her go, feeling tired and frustrated. Why did he find her so difficult to talk to? He had merely wished to express his concern that she was growing too close to a man whose affections were promised elsewhere. And not only because it would cause untold problems within the group, but he would not wish to see her get hurt either.

_Ironic really, since the only person who seems to upset her with any regularity is _you_…_

Anomen frowned, his anger at the world rising. Though the hour was late, he was very tempted to attend temple, if only to cleanse this bitterness from his heart. But in the end he sighed and rose to make his way to the stairs as Fritha had. He had to learn to control this anger, to find the calm of the temple within himself.

Besides, he considered tiredly, all he truly wanted was one good night's sleep.

xxx

Fritha returned to her bed in much better spirits than when she had left it that morning. The combination of wine and dancing had left her warm and contented and to the point where even the squire's insinuations could not mar it, and she had had little trouble in getting to sleep that night. How unfortunate then, she considered later, that it had not lasted past an hour.

Fritha stirred, a noise on the edge of her senses pulling her from sleep. Slowly she opened her eyes and lifted her head from the pillow, her temples throbbing as she did so and she suddenly regretted the liberal amounts of wine she had been so enjoying earlier in the evening. There it was again, a knocking. The room was dark and empty about her, cool now the fire had died and her skin bristled as she threw off her blankets and made for the door.

Fritha squinted in the light of the hall and her frown remained as she looked down to the disgruntled form of Meck.

'You again! For the love of Illmater, that playhouse had better be in flames as we speak!'

But the boy did not have chance to reply as further along the hallway another door opened and the dishevelled scowling form of Jaheira appeared.

'Fritha, what on Toril are you doing u-? Oh…' she tailed off, finally noticing the boy at her side. Fritha sighed.

'Just go back to bed, I'll go and see what the problem is.'

'I wouldn't be doing that, Lady Patron,' offered Meck gravely, 'you might be needing yer friends along fer this un. Some Turmian louts 'ave raided the theatre and threaten to raze it to the ground unless you come speak with 'em.'

Fritha blinked, feeling more than confused.

'People have stormed the playhouse? But why?'

'Well, from what I gathered 'fore Jenna pulled me out o' there, they think the play is insulting.'

Fritha scrubbed a hand across her face, the beginning of a headache already gathering behind her temples.

'Wonderful, just _wonderful_! All right, Meck, in here,' she sighed, gesturing absently to her room, 'Jaheira can you get the girls up? I'll throw something on and then wake the others.'

The druid nodded once and moved off down the corridor as Fritha turned to follow the boy into her room. She took up her tinderbox, lighting the first candle and then passing it to Meck to do the rest as she stepped behind her screen and started to change.

'What were they doing there at this time of night anyway? It must be almost midnight,' Fritha continued as she heard the familiar creak of the chair and guessed the boy had helped himself to a seat.

'They were rehearsing that scene where the mage declares 'is love fer the girl,' the boy explained, his disgust at such _soppiness_ audible, 'only 'iggold weren't 'appy with it and said they weren't leaving till they'd got it right. I imagine the attack were quite welcome in the end.'

'Has anyone been hurt?'

'Nah, they seemed more bent on frightening than 'arming, not that that lot didn't need much persuading. Buch o' cissies! The leader just shouted some talk about the play being an affront to 'is "proud Turmian 'eritage" and tore a backdrop down, and 'iggold was running out o' there crying like a little girl and the others weren't far behind 'im.'

Fritha snorted at the image of it, straightening her tunic and finally stepping round the screen as Meck was lost to laughter.

'Now, wait here a moment.'

The boy nodded, not enough breath left in him to reply and Fritha smiled as she moved out into the corridor. Jaheira's door was shut again and she suspected that only three of their group remained in blissful ignorance. Well, not for long…

'Anomen?' she called as loudly as she dared, face close to the wood as she rapped lightly on his door, 'Anomen, wake up…'

'My lady?' came a muffled reply and tentatively she pushed the door open, light from the hall behind her opening the room in shades of grey and she could just make out the man in the gloom, sat up in bed, his broad chest hatched with scars.

'What is it? Is something wrong?'

'I'm sorry to wake you. It's the playhouse, it's been raided by Turmian fanatics. We're going to sort it out.'

Anomen sighed, running a hand through his hair.

'Really, my lady, such a matter clearly lies within the jurisdiction of the city guards.' He sent her an accusing look, 'Have they even _informed_ the Watch?'

Fritha stood, staring back at him feeling rather stupid, his reluctance quite unexpected.

'I- I don't know, Meck just arrived with a message… if you don't wish to come-'

'No, no,' he dismissed with another sigh, 'I shall be ready in a moment.'

Fritha just dipped her face and closed the door, wondering why she hadn't left him asleep as she moved on to wake Haer'Dalis and finally Minsc. She found the ranger in a much more agreeable mood and sat on the edge of the man's bed as she waited for him to dress, watching Boo scurry about the crumpled blankets and still brooding over her last encounter with the squire.

She was trying to keep her patience with him, but he had been snapping and scolding her ever since they had left Imnesvale and it was beginning to wear a touch thin. Though, initially, she had attributed his temper to his continued grief over his sister and then to his worries for his father, Fritha was starting to wonder whether perhaps the problem wasn't just that Anomen didn't like her.

She glanced up as Minsc appeared from around the screen, now dressed, the man sending her a concerned look as he crossed to his armour and she rose instinctively to help him with the straps.

'You are worrying for your theatre, young Fritha?'

She shook her head, putting all her focus in to the stiff buckles that fastened across his broad chest.

'No, not really… it's just, well, Anomen, actually…' she confessed, trying to get an airiness to her voice that would not come. 'He seems to have taken a real dislike to me recently. Everything I do makes him angry, and it… it's just starting to get to me, I suppose.'

Fritha sighed and finally glanced up, her stomach growing cold as she noticed the furious scowl that was suddenly furrowing Minsc's brow.

'What is _this_? Minsc and Boo will have words with him, this squire who would pick on our Fritha!'

'Oh _no_, Minsc!' she groaned miserably, wishing she had never said anything and taking his arm as he made to storm into the hall, 'please, you'll only make it worse! I'm just being silly, it's fine really. _Please_ Minsc!' she cried, a real panic rising in her as he reached the door, Fritha still clinging to his arm and with about as much chance of halting him as she would an angry dragon, 'Honestly, it's fine. Promise me you won't say anything.'

He stopped just before the door, staring down at her and silent for a long while before nodding once, his eyes still dark but at last she felt her panic subside. She had his word and Minsc would rather die than break it.

Still, that did not mean he had to like it, she considered practically as they finally moved into the hallway, the others gathered there, pale and tired, Anomen among them and looking quite confused by the angry scowl Minsc was sending in his direction. Fritha sighed and forced a smile as, outside, the bells across the city sounded midnight. Another new day in the City of Coin.


	39. Shades of grey

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. 

I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Shades of grey**

Anomen descended the stairs into the tavern, grey dawn light illuminating the room. The only sign of life was from a pair of maids who were slowly clearing the debris of the previous night from the tables and floor in preparation of the first meal and the patrons that would soon be arriving for it. They nodded mildly to Anomen as they passed before going back to their work, the sight of him not an unfamiliar one for the man often rose early to attend matins at the temple.  
Anomen yawned widely. Accustomed though he was to rising with the dawn, it had been much more of a struggle that morning. The late night he and the rest of the group had endured had made his bed all the harder to leave once he'd finally returned to it, and for the first time in a long while what sleep he'd managed to get had been undisturbed by dreams.

The group had arrived at the Five Flagons not long after midnight, Meck proudly leading the way and looking as though he was quite enjoying himself. A stark contrast to those they went to meet, the group ushered inside by Samuel, the halfling landlord still in his nightshirt and looking severely displeased by the commotion that was taking place under his tavern. Higgold had immediately launched into a lengthy and rather dramatic account of what had happened, describing how he and the cast had been absorbed in rehearsals when there had been a loud crash from backstage and suddenly there were men everywhere, shouting and throwing things, demanding to speak with the patron. Fritha had tried to press the actors for numbers or how these raiders were armed, but everyone seemed to have a different account and in the end Fritha just told them not to worry, the girl sending Marcus and Davith off to inform the Watch before resignedly leading their group downstairs to attempt to reason with the men.

All had not been as expected though, a tall mahogany-skinned man stood in the gloom before the darkened stage, the outlines of his companions moving in the shadows behind him. He had presented himself as Dieron of Turmish, curtly demanding they abandon the play that very day or he would return to burn the theatre to the ground. Something which had sounded a lot more threatening before Jaheira had clearly grown tired of standing in the dark and cast a werelight, the room illuminating to reveal Dieron was the only Turmian among them, his companions looking little more than local ruffians, Fritha suddenly furious as she demanded an explanation.

Dieron, though, had drawn a knife instead, perhaps hoping to frighten her, which he had and Minsc as well, the huge man leaping forward to knock it from his hand and punch him squarely in the jaw. The room had instantly descended into chaos as some of the raiders attempted to flee, while others surrendered and soon they were all upstairs again, the room now crowded by the addition of six bound men, who all looked a lot less brave now they were under the glare of Samuel and the assembled cast.

Fritha, with considerable help from Minsc and Boo, had convinced Dieron to admit they were indeed not from Turmish, but had been hired by Bethseda, the patron of the Crown, a rival theatre just south of the Promenade, the Watch agreeing to look into the matter before finally leading the men away. And with that, Samuel had returned to bed and Higgold had ushered a very unenthused cast back downstairs to begin repairs, Fritha volunteering to help as well, the girl very audible reminding Haer'Dalis of all his previous claims to being 'a man of no small artistic talent' and how they would definitely need help repainting the backdrops.

The tiefling had looked as amused as he had displeased, agreeing to stay too with a loud sigh and small smile, and Anomen wondered mildly what time they had managed to get away when the door of the tavern creaked open and the pair entered, Haer'Dalis drawn and tired, while Fritha looked as bright as the sunlight that poured though the doorway behind her.

'Anomen!' she cried, rushing over to him as though they had not seen each other for years, the girl stopping just before him, close enough that he could see the paint still beaded in her hair.

'Hello Anomen, d'you sleep all right?'

Anomen nodded slowly. 'Yes, thank you, my lady. The, ah, repairs went well?'

'Oh yes, very well. I'm so tired now though,' she beamed, sounded nothing like it. 'Are you going to matins?

'That is so.'

'Well, goodbye then,' she finished abruptly, moving past him and heading to the stairs as though that was an end to it. Anomen frowned, glancing to the man who had just reached him to ask, 'What is wrong with Fritha?'

Haer'Dalis sighed, smiling fondly as they watched the girl blithely accost Jaheira as the woman descended into the tavern as well.

'It seems our raven, by her own admission, is not particularly skilled with a paintbrush, and so after she and I had helped clean the stage, the repair of the scenery got underway and she was set the task of mixing the paint for the rest of the cast.'

'Why is Fritha in such good spirits?' asked Jaheira as she reached them, still sending a puzzled frown to the stairs behind her.

'Paint fumes,' said Anomen and the bard together. Jaheira groaned.

'I must confess, though, I rather like the raven like this,' continued Haer'Dalis conversationally, the fond smile back on his pale face, 'much less unsure of herself. She sang all the way back from the bridge district; it put the larks to shame.'

Anomen frowned again and more deeply this time. He did not like the way the bard spoke of Fritha sometimes, as though he had momentarily forgotten the existence of Aerie, but Jaheira merely shook her head.

'She'll suffer for such joy later.'

'And your Balance will be served, good druid,' the bard smirked before sighing, 'Well, this sparrow has seen more than enough of the day so far. I fear I must follow the raven and retire.'

And Anomen watched as he too trudged up the stairs, Jaheira's voice bringing his attention back to his side.

'You are taking breakfast, Anomen?'

'No, I had plans to attend temple.'

'Farewell then,' she answered mildly, moving to take a seat at the nearest table and Anomen left her with a slight bow, leaving the tavern to step out into the cold clear morning.

xxx

It turned out to be a bright day, but even so there was still a chill to the air, as though to serve as a reminder that winter was not far away. The bridge, which normally saw a lot of traffic merely by the nature of the place, was even busier that noon, the fifth day market drawing even more people and Jaheira could see that she was not the only one who found the bustle unwelcome. Haer'Dalis and Fritha had managed to get only a few hours sleep in the end and it showed, the pair almost grey with tiredness, Fritha a different person from the cheerful girl who had arrived back at the tavern that morning.

A group of young men pushed past them in the bustle, giving the girls a more than a cursory glance as they did so. The youths were mercenaries by the look of them, though such things could be deceptive and Jaheira felt their eyes long after they had passed. The druid frowned. She would have been much more at ease had they been on their way to Trademeet already. She had hardly liked Athkatla before, any city sure to jar with her. And the realisation that the ever-watchful eyes of the Galvarey may be following them had merely fuelled her dislike of the place, their stay there only increasing the chance she would be summoned again to the man, and that this time would find him all the harder to dissuade. And the druid soon realised that their acceptance of the Trademeet mission may have ensured peace of another sort as well.

'So, remind me again, my raven, what we are doing on this ride?' sighed Haer'Dalis. The man had clearly not wanted to leave his bed so soon after returning to it and Fritha sounded as though she was trying to hide that same feeling as she answered him brightly.

'We are going to try and ally ourselves with a group of men who used to be knights of the Order and who still seem content with the association.'

'And that requires such _immediate_ attention?' the tiefling continued, stifling a yawn and Anomen shot him a stern look.

'Indeed, it does. Anarg, their leader was implicated in acts of the vilest sort for which he was cast from the Orders ranks. Unfortunately, others were swayed by his lies and followed him.'

'And then?' prompted the bard. Fritha shrugged.

'And then _they_ were cast out, just as he had been.' She snorted with a wry amusement. 'There's clearly no glory in compassion.'

'Compassion?' repeated Anomen, his voice coming high in his incredulity, 'The Order shows such men more mercy than they deserve. Such a manner of base traitor should be put to death in my opinion. To be a fully-sworn paladin and to turn your back on your oaths is inconceivable!'

Jaheira sighed tiredly, sure another argument was imminent. Though Anomen's stance was rather extreme, she could see why the squire may have held it. For one who had been so desperate to walk the path to paladinhood only to have it denied to him, the idea that others could turn their backs on something he had so desperately wanted no doubt provoked a strong reaction. Fritha, though, was either too tired to consider this or did not think it much of an excuse, the girl looking no less than astounded by his words; something which had fortunately stunned her to a momentary silence, Aerie's voice continuing tentatively.

'B-But, Anomen, surely you can't mean that? These men were good enough to become paladins once, I-I mean, everyone can make a mistake, can't they?'

But the squire shook his head gravely. 'As a paladin your very life is based upon the divide between good and evil. To stray across it even once is inexcusable.'

Jaheira rolled her eyes; such a black and white view of the world never ceased to amazed her with its naivety. She glanced up to the ranger who was walking next to her, ready to share a look of understanding, but Minsc had turned to send the boy such a scowl that he did not notice her. Fritha glanced pointedly to Aerie.

'Well, we _plainly_ don't have such a clear-cut sense of right and wrong, Anomen. But as _you _said, Anarg had not even been _convicted_ of slavery, merely implicated.'

The squire flushed, opening his mouth to snap a reply, though another question cut him off.

'If your Order were sure enough of the hound's guilt to cast him out, should they not have acted upon it?' considered Haer'Dalis, his dark eyes holding a genuine interest, 'Instructed the Watch to investigate his behaviour or the like?'

'Do not be foolish, Haer'Dalis!' cried Nalia with an airy laugh, 'They may no longer be knights, but they are certainly still of the nobility. They are clearly above the judgement of the common law.'

'Nalia, that is unfair!' Aerie scolded, 'the Order holds _all _accountable to the law; surely you don't doubt that?'

Nalia said nothing though, merely sent the elf a pitying look and Anomen frowned.

'Indeed, Lady Aerie, and the Order's repute for such is paramount. The citizens of Amn need to know they can trust us to always act in justice and righteousness, which will be why Sir Ryan wished this matter to be dealt with discreetly, so as not to sully the Order's reputation. That same reputation which Anarg has no doubt been using to his advantage as he works to exploit the peoples of the Bridge district. And, besides,' the squire continued, sending a look to Haer'Dalis, 'the Order _are_ acting upon it, they have sent us to investigate the matter.'

Fritha smiled tightly. 'Indeed they have, and I warn you now, we will be pursuing this no further if I can see nothing untoward in their actions.'

Jaheira sighed to herself as the squire went an even deeper shade of pink. The girl was not usually so confrontational, more than happy to let most disagreements fade with a 'let's just wait and see', and the druid wondered if this antagonism stemmed from Fritha's lack of sleep, or whether she was merely tired of Anomen.

'But, my lady, they are telling people they are still members of the Order! Why would they lie unless they had some villainy to hide?'

Fritha snorted.

'If they are truly helping people, I don't care if they're going round saying they're the right-hand of Tyr! Sir Ryan Trawl said himself that these reports of wrongdoing were just rumours, and we will go and investigate it as he asked.'

'Good, that is settled then,' agreed Jaheira before Anomen could make any reply and a stony silence descended over the group, no one speaking until they reached the other side of the bridge.

Renal had directed them to a group of disused warehouses that had once been used to pack fish when the river through Athkatla had not been so polluted as to make the fishing of it unprofitable on any great scale. The air seemed even cooler there in the shadow of those tall decaying buildings, the briny reek of fish still lingering around them as they walked and it was Jaheira who finally brought them to a halt, her voice low.

'Can you hear it? Voices in the warehouse up ahead.'

The druid's ears were more attuned than hers and Fritha paused, straining to hear over the low roar of the bustle back on the bridge and the cry of the gulls wheeling above them. There it was, the deep rumble of male voices. Fritha glanced about her; Haer'Dalis could hear it too and by the look of Aerie, the elf wasn't even having to try.  
Together they continued their path, though more slowly than before, the group closing to the point where all could hear, gathering at the corner of the building half-concealed behind a stack of old crates and in view of the doors; the metal panels hanging awkwardly on their rotten wooden frames, a distinctly male voice of an accent not dissimilar to Anomen's drifting through the gap.

'We shall not allow you to continue your depredations here, Rindus. Take your men and begone, your smuggling in this district will be tolerated no longer.'

A contemptuous snort, the rough voice that answered of a more local dialect and almost singsong in its mockery.

'Tolerated, is it? You better be able to back up those words, _knight_, because I won't be giving you my turf without a fight.'

'We have no interest in your turf, Rindus-' but the rest of this dissent was lost as Minsc tugged at her sleeve, Fritha turning to finally notice what he and the druid had already seen, a group of seven men, lightly armed and in the mismatched armour of poorer mercenaries were creeping around the other side of the warehouse. Fritha watched as they took up positions around the doors, half her attention still on the argument within.

'Hah! What are you trying to pull, Reynald? I know the Order kicked you out. You're no more of a knight than I am. And they were right to do it too, if you're anything like your leader; Anarg's as bent as a Calimshite blade.'

'How dare you speak so of Anarg, dog! I may no longer meet the Order's standards, but in the eyes of my god, I am still worthy. You wish me to back my words? So be it!'

Rindus gave a triumphant bark of laughter. 'Strike boys, now!'

With a roar the men wrenched the doors open and poured inside, their weapons drawn, Fritha watching a moment, her heart suddenly pounding before she too drew her sword and sprang after them

'Well, come on!'

But the sudden gloom after the brightness of outside left her almost blind, the two opposing groups little more than shadows clashing in the darkness. It _was_ apparent though, that one side plainly outnumbered the other and it was in that Fritha was first able to distinguish them. Their arrival had not yet been noticed and the group used this to their advantage, her friends quickly joining the battle, Fritha moving to pull a thief from a young warrior who was already embroiled in a fight against another, the rogue whirling to lunge at her with a clumsy surprise and Fritha side stepped the blow easily as she cut him down.

The fight continued and for a while it was difficult to tell who was prevailing, the shouts and cries of those around her for the most part unfamiliar, a guttural curse that sounded like Haer'Dalis the only indication that one of their own number had been injured. Suddenly, one of the men, whom she had placed as one of the Order's exiles merely by his heavy plate armour, raised his sword above his head, calling out in a tongue she recognised as celestial and a blinding light engulfed the warehouse, the thieves still left shying from it as though it burnt. In that moment, both groups pressed their advantage and the fight did not last much longer after that, the former knights clearly still excellent warriors and as the last of the thieves fell a silence descended as well, each group watching the other warily, some of the men sporting minor cuts and scrapes while Jaheira and Aerie pressed in about the injured teifling, the women trying to carefully remove his jacket to get to the wounded arm beneath.

Fritha's eyes had finally adjusted to the gloom and she could see the warehouse had been furnished, albeit sparsely. A jumble of rough tables and benches were set in the far corner while dusty hangings of hessian that looked as though they had been sewn together from old sacks curtained off the back of the room where Fritha could only assume they slept. The men themselves had the same mismatched quality, about a dozen or so warriors ranging from younger than her to well past middle age stood grouped before them wordless and watchful, this stalemate finally broken as one stepped forward with a smile and Fritha recognised the man who had called down the divine power of his god during the previous battle.

Sandy-haired and broad-shouldered, his plain face held an open look, as one either unaccustomed to or exceptionally skilled at deception and though he looked to be approaching his thirtieth winter he seemed much older, a worn air about him, like someone who had suffered troubles and recently enough that they had not yet lost their ache. Fritha could see Anomen recognised the man and was clearly disturbed by the discovery, and she absently wished she had not been quite so sharp with him earlier, though she was given no further time to ponder this as the man finally spoke.

'I greet you, friends, though I know you not. You have spilt your blood for us and I welcome you most openly.'

Haer'Dalis bit back a cry as Jaheira finally straightened his arm enough to remove his jacket, the bard sending the man dark look.

'As you would have it, my hound, though know it was not spilt willingly.'

'Haer'Dalis!' Aerie scolded even as she fussed over him and the man laughed, turning back to the rest of them.

'Well met, friends, I am Reynald de Chatillion, formally of the Order and now led by Anarg, the man you no doubt heard those rogues insulting. I do not know how they found us, but thankfully will not live to tell others.' He shook his head for a moment troubled. 'I fear they must have been planning this attack for some time to catch us at a disadvantage; Anarg and the others of our group are out on some task in the city.'

Fritha smiled, trying to ignore the way Anomen was openly staring at the man.

'So you admit you are no longer members of the Order?' the squire demanded before anyone could interrupt, Fritha hastening to add mildly, 'We had heard rumours that you were still serving in their ranks.'

But Reynald merely shook his head, smiling with a genial surprise though it did not hide the regret that lingered in his eyes.

'Why no, but some of us are still paladins, as you saw; I suppose the common folk see little difference.'

Behind him, Fritha watched two of the younger men, their dark heads close as they shared a whispered exchange, the taller glancing up to offer in a carrying voice, 'You would seem to know much of this, my lady… And is not your companion the Squire Anomen?'

A pause. Fritha kept her expression mildly interested as she turned to the man next to her, Anomen's face set, the squire finally breaking the silence with a terse sigh.

'I am not to be counted among the Order's ranks. As you point out, I have not yet been knighted- and likely never will, at this rate,' he added with a bitterness that did not sound particularly forced. For a moment he and the man scowled at each other, neither attempting to conceal their dislike, before Reynald stepped forward, his hand raised in a conciliatory gesture.

'Forgive Alve his suspicions, our lives have been difficult since we left the Order and have been made no easier by some still within their ranks. Before Anarg united us, some of our number were little more than mercenaries, having to decide between our morals and our next meal. We owe much to his guidance.' He smiled, his face brightening with pride at the talk of leader. 'May I ask your names, friends?'

Fritha nodded politely, sending the group opposite a friendly smile as she introduced her companions.

'I am Fritha and, as you recognised, this is Anomen Delryn. Then we have Jaheira, Minsc, Nalia-

'Nalia de'Arnise?' exclaimed Alve before he could seemingly stop himself, the man instantly dropping his head to whisper to his companion again, more than a couple of the other men sending Reynald doubtful looks and Nalia bristled.

'You have heard the rumours I am mad, I assume?' she confirmed, her eyes blazing, 'I live my life according to my beliefs, not the rules other have placed upon me. If this is madness, then so be it.'

Reynald shook his head gravely.

'No, indeed, it is not madness, my lady, for they are principles we hold ourselves and,' he continued, throwing a stern glance to the young men behind him, 'we meant no disrespect.'

Nalia nodded once, seemingly calmed and Fritha quickly finished her introductions, sensing that at the rate they were going their alliance would be at an end before it had even been suggested.

'Well, my lady,' Reynald began, once she had finished, the warm smile back on his worn face, 'I must confess to having heard your names before this day. Some of us have heard rumours of your group and the deeds you have performed about Athkatla, helping the common citizenry against the evils of this place; goals we hold dear ourselves.'

Fritha smiled, more than relieved to see many of those at his back nodding and murmuring agreements, though Alve and his friends were still watching them with a sullen look.

'Tell me,' Reynald continued, 'was it merely chance that brought you to our aid this day?'

Fritha shook her head; a mix of truth and falsehood always made for the best lies.

'No, it was not. We actually came to look for you. We heard of a group of men working in this area with ideals similar to our own and I wished to propose an alliance of sorts. The sharing of information and aid, perhaps even uniting when necessary against the thieves' guild and other more disreputable groups that seem to operate so freely within the city.'

Yet more muttering from the others, Reynald sending her an appraising look, his gaze travelling over their group as he nodded slowly.

'Is that so? Well, there is certainly strength to be gained from such alliances. Come,' he smiled, gesturing to the tables behind him and the men parted instinctively to make way for them, some pairing off to make a start on removing the bodies that littered the floor. 'I can make no decisions without Anarg, of course, but your reputations have earned _my_ trust of you and we should discuss this further. In fact, we may even have a task for you already; one in which outsiders will have a chance of succeeding where no one of us could.'

xxx

It was a good couple of hours later when they finally left the gloom of the warehouse, their group sharing a cheerful farewell with Reynald and the others before making their way back across the bridge. The bustle of the market had faded considerably in their absence, some of the stalls already being packed away for the afternoon and this waning air seemed to suit their group, the mood darkening with every step, an afternoon of making pleasantries with a group of men they could well end up betraying clearly not resting well with any of them.

Once crossed, they halted on the edge of the bridge, the others beginning to quietly discuss plans and Anomen moved away from them, walking a few paces back onto the bridge proper and looking over the edge to watch the river slowly coursing by beneath him. Though still a bright day, the wind was picking up and he could feel the dust prickling his skin as he stood there, just trying to make sense of it all. He had been so sure before he had met them, but now…

Footsteps behind him and Anomen turned to see Fritha approaching, the girl smiling a greeting as she joined him before her gaze shifted to the sky, eyes following the clouds that were racing overhead. She looked vivid and healthy stood beside him in the sunlight, her tunic matching the sky while the wind caught at her trousers and cloak, making them ripple and swirl.

'It will rain later, but only a shower,' she said finally and Anomen turned away feeling uncomfortable.

Every time they had spoken lately, it had ended in crossed words; his vow to end both his outbursts and his worries for his father coming to naught it seemed, and now he was finding himself questioning the very Order whose ranks he was set on joining, Anomen did not feel as though he even knew himself anymore. He glanced back to find her watching him, eyes tired above an understanding smile.

'It's not so black and white anymore, is it? Ah, don't worry, Anomen,' she sighed, turning back to the sky, 'I'd be more frightened if you thought it was... Did you know Reynald?'

'I knew of him. He was a celebrated knight and- and I believed a good man as well. I served under him in my first campaign with the Order… I had not even realised he had been cast out.' Anomen shook his head. 'But it was not just him, some of the others we spoke with, young knights who I had once respected, even aspired to emulate…'

His mind drifted back to the gloom of the warehouse, all sat about the tables sharing a plain meal of bread and ale as they had talked.

'Wh-Why were you cast from the Order?' Aerie had asked with her customary hesitance. No one else would have dared such a personal question, but the elf more than anyone seemed to be able to get away with such things. Even so, some of the men had looked wary, all heads turning to Reynald who'd sighed deeply.

'All of our company have one thing in common in that we are no longer worthy of the vows of knighthood we once took under the Order. Some of us have lost our paladinhoods as well, though in the case of my own transgression, I broke no vow to my god and my service to Him remains true. More than that I cannot say, my lady; we do not share the particulars of our shame. But when Anarg was cast out, he brought others with him, sought out the rest of us and our group was formed. We seek solace in each others company and work to help the peoples of Athkatla as we always have. And in that, friends, you may help us.'

And that was when Reynald had explained it, this task that no one of their number could have hoped to complete. And indeed he was correct for it was a request for the return of Anarg's cup, a ceremonial chalice presented to all paladins within the Order upon their knighting and served as a symbol of the holy covenant made between man and the divine. Something, Reynald had explained, that still rightfully belonged to Anarg, for he too had retained his paladinhood even after he was cast from the Order's ranks, and their leader felt that its return would go some way to restoring his ruined reputation and strengthen the standing of their group as a whole as men in the service of goodness and righteousness.

Anomen scrubbed a rough hand across his face. Reynald had seemed so sincere, no different, really, to the knight Anomen remember from all those years ago; how could he have fallen so far as to serve that traitor, Anarg? And yet serve him they did. In fact, you would have to blind not to notice the devotion Reynald and some of the others gave him; Anarg the saviour who had given their lives in exile purpose again.

Besides, Sir Ryan Trawl had been his mentor since he joined the Order years ago; there was no truer man in all of Amn and Anomen could not believe the paladin capable of any mistake on a matter of such importance. Reynald and the others had been cast out fairly, even they did not dispute it, just as Anarg was for his crimes, and that was all Anomen should need to know.

He sighed, feeling suddenly very old, the world a much more confusing place than it had been even just a few hours before. He looked down to find Fritha calmly watching him once more, the girl's presence somehow heartening and he felt an unpleasant weight settle in his stomach. He had been so harsh with her lately and though she was just as likely to snap right back at the time, she was still willing to put it all aside to council him when he had need of it. He watched her a moment longer, struggling to form words from the confusion of emotions within him until,

'I- I should like to apologise to you, Fritha.'

She blinked once, suddenly wary.

'You haven't been speaking to Minsc, have you?'

Anomen frowned slightly.

'No… but, I have been ill tempered of late, to say the least, and I have been treating you unfairly. You were correct. Loathed though I am to admit it, I have been worrying for my father and how he is managing without my sister. I know he has the servants, but still…'

Fritha sighed slightly, her voice quiet as she asked, 'Can you not reconcile with him?'

Anomen swallowed, recalling in a moment the years of cruelty he had suffered at his father's hands, the derision, the countless humiliations; the bastard remorseless even now when his bitter feuding had left his daughter dead, and already Anomen could feel his anger at the old drunkard filling him. He shook his head, his voice even and heavy with finality.

'No, I hate him… But such hatred is against all the Order teaches. They will see it in my heart. They will know I am unworthy.'

He turned to her, expecting Fritha to look appalled, but instead the same kind smile was back pulling at her lips.

'Yes, well, it is all very good saying you should not feel certain things, but emotions are not so easily controlled. Perhaps fighting against this hate you have for you father is just making you feel worse.'

'I do not quite follow you, my lady.'

'You hate your father, yet you know you should not. So then you hate yourself for not living up to the Order's standards _and _you hate your father for making you fail your vows and it all just grows.' Fritha sighed deeply, her voice taking on a very matter-of-fact tone as she continued. 'Anomen, as far as I can see you have a choice of two paths: you can go and try to reconcile with the man and alleviate your worries, or you can just forget his existence completely and let your hatred die.'

'But I cannot, my lady!' Anomen cried, his heart almost bursting with his need to make her see his torment. 'My father ruled our family like a tyrant for years! Surely you must understand? Irenicus tortured you, you _must_ hate him, do you not…?'

Anomen trailed off, his anger ebbing as he slowly realised what he was asking her. They had never spoken of her ordeal at the hands of the mage outside of the day he officially joined their company, the girl's frank detachment as she described her imprisonment giving a better indication of how badly it had affected her than anything she had actually said. Fritha seemed momentarily frozen, her face holding a painfully empty look before she dipped it slightly to consider the point and when she spoke again her voice had an absent quality, as though she was trying to remember a dream she had once had.

'Well, I cannot say I forgive what he did, but hate Irenicus? No, Anomen, I do not hate him… I can't explain it, the things he did… you were not there… he- he was as a man broken…'

Anomen swallowed.

'I am sorry, Fritha, I should not have brought that up.'

But she merely shook her head, glancing up at him again with a tired smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

'It doesn't matter.'

He felt such a surge of anger at her dismissal that it almost choked his reply.

'_Do_ _not_ say that! It _does_ matter. That it happened and that I was thoughtless enough to remind you of it.'

She opened her mouth, but after a moment closed it again and just nodded once, still looking tired and slightly amused, as though she knew different. Silence fell between them once more, Anomen turning back to the sky as she did, the field of faded blue merely providing a calm in which his worries of how to now deal with this group of fallen knights could rise. He looked again to Fritha.

'So, what are our plans?'

The girl gave a weary sigh.

'Well, we will need this cup of Anarg's if we are to further our investigation any. Will you be able to convince Sir Ryan to let you borrow it?'

'It is an important symbol of Anarg's paladinhood, no doubt why he would want it back, but I believe Sir Ryan will understand.'

'Good. If we fetch it today, we can present it to them tomorrow under the pretence we liberated it overnight.'

A moment to finalise their plans with the others and Anomen stood watching as the majority of the group moved off down the street heading back to the slums, Fritha walking in the opposite direction back across the bridge, the girl insisting she go and check on her playhouse. Anomen sighed again and with one final glance to the sky, he set off towards the temple district, clouds gathering above him.

xxx

Nalia watched the mirror before her, the girl within slowly pulling a comb through her straight red hair, the reflection of Fritha's foot twitching in the lower corner of the glass as her friend lounged on the bed behind. Fritha had been quiet since her return, the girl arriving in the tavern grey and damp, the rains having broken whilst she was off at her theatre, and immediately asking Jaheira if she had anything for a headache. The druid had obliged her before Nalia convinced the girl that some rest would likely help as well, Fritha shrugging once and wordlessly following her to her room

And so there they were, Nalia sat before her dresser and Fritha lain upon the bed chewing methodically on the root Jaheira had given her. Though not as bad as she had been the previous day, Fritha's silence still held an air of despondency and Nalia wasn't really sure how to bring her out of it.

'_You cannot help the _entire _world, my dear_,' came her aunt's terse sigh behind her eyes and Nalia recalled clearly how the woman had always looked with disparagement upon her attempts to aid others- but then perhaps her aunt was right in this case. Fritha was usually so bright, but every now and then her mood would turn, the girl suddenly distant and brooding and with seemingly no cause. Nalia had already offered herself as confidant, but Fritha seemed unwilling to speak of whatever was troubling her and there was really nothing more she could do.

Nalia frowned, feeling increasingly frustrated as she shifted slightly in her chair, angling herself to get a better view of the room behind and watch Fritha, the girl still staring up at the ceiling with a blank look. Had she always been like this? And for a moment Nalia tried to imagine the girl back in Candlekeep with Imoen, young and unhappy; how would her oldest friend have helped her?

But it was no good. From what little she knew of Imoen, the girl seemed as likely to tease Fritha about it as be sympathetic and Nalia did not feel comfortable attempting either. She sighed gently, finally turning in her chair to break the silence between them.

'So, how was the theatre?'

'Hmm?' Fritha began distractedly, 'Oh, fine, it was fine.'

Nalia swallowed, wanting more than anything to find out what was wrong, but she did not know what more she could say. She watched the girl, still chewing on her root, pale fingers stained with dark grey freckles.

'There is ink on your hands.'

'I was looking over the music again with Marcus,' Fritha answered casually after a contemplative pause that Nalia did not quite trust, 'We rewrote a couple of passages.'

Silence fell between them once more, one moment stretching on into two when Fritha finally broke it with a sigh and Nalia felt her composure snap.

'Oh, Fritha, what is _wrong_? Please, if you would just tell me!' she cried, springing from her chair to sit next to her and grab her hand, desperate to shake her, embrace her, _anything_ to pull her from this melancholy.

The mere movement seemed enough to rouse the girl though, Fritha looking quite alarmed by her outburst and sitting quickly to pat her arm, her voice much closer to its usual cadence as she replied, 'Nothing, dearest, really, I'm fine.'

Nalia released her and sat back without a word, the ache inside her worsening. Nothing. It was always nothing whenever she asked what was wrong.

'You always say that…'

Fritha sighed, leaning forward slightly and trying to take her hand again, but Nalia remained out of reach and the girl finally gave up.

'But it _is_ nothing. I just, well, I'm just a bit tired, you understand. But, I'm fine really, dearest,' Fritha continued, smiling slightly now and clearly trying to convince her. 'I'm probably just bored. I've been spoilt with all the dancing yesterday.'

Nalia watched her a moment, Fritha's smile fading into a concerned frown as the silence progressed and Nalia sighed inwardly; she was making it worse. It was better to have openly melancholy Fritha than one pretending to be well for her benefit. And perhaps she was right, perhaps it was nothing… at least in _her_ eyes; the girl unable to tell her what was wrong for she did not know herself. It could not be denied that a lot had happened to Fritha lately, and, Nalia suspected, more than even she had been told of. Perhaps these occasional bouts of melancholy were to be expected…

And if she could not help, then she could at least work to distract her from it. Nalia drew a deep breath and forced a smile.

'Well, if you are bored, we could always go out. There are many taverns in Athkatla and quite a few have music of an evening. We could go and find some, just the two of us.'

Fritha blinked slowly. 'Really? You know, I'd never even thought about that before…'

Nalia felt a rush of warmth burst in her stomach as the girl grinned suddenly.

'Shall we?'

A pause, the two watching each other, a sense of excitement building between them, when suddenly a shriek of laughter split the air and they were both scrambling from the bed to root in bags for clothes and combs. Moments later found them stood before the dresser, Nalia in her favourite blue dress while Fritha was next to her wearing her usual black trousers and the sky blue tunic they had embroidered together so long ago.

'Here,' continued Nalia, taking a long sea green linen sash from her bag to proffer to the girl, 'this would look nice.'

Fritha glanced to her, frowning slightly. 'If you think so. About the hips?'

'Well you could, or here.' She gestured for Fritha to turn back to the mirror, Nalia stepping behind her and opening the sash out to its full width to catch it just beneath her bust and pull it tight. And there they stood a moment, Nalia looping and tying the ends as she secured it, her breath stirring the few short curls that wisped about the base of the girl's neck as she laboured, until she finally finished, her voice coming quiet as she asked, 'What do you think?'

Fritha's reflection smiled mildly, the girl turning to admire the large ornate knot that now rested in the middle of her back.

'Very nice, thank you, though I can't really wear my sword with it,' she considered, fingers already moving to unfasten her belt and she threw it carelessly to land on her bag, her attention already back to her reflection as she took out her hairpins, the hair unwinding to hang down her back in one long rope. Fritha left it untouched though, just pulling her wooden comb through the roots and evening out her parting before moving instinctively to coil it up again and Nalia caught her sleeve.

'Don't pin it up, it looks so pretty when it's combed out.'

Fritha sighed slightly, a touch of her previous despondency back as she stroked a finger absently along her comb.

'But, that's the problem, isn't it? When things start out pretty you want to try and keep them that way. When you just pin it all up, tidy and serviceable, it doesn't matter if its streaked with blood and filled with leaves by the end of the day.'

Nalia tugged the nearest curl, scolding playfully, 'Well, it's hardly probable anything like that will happen to it tonight, so stop being so stubborn.'

Fritha smiled unwillingly, relinquishing her comb and Nalia spent a few moments fussing over her hair, using the girl's wooden pins to twist back the curls at her temples and frame her face, before it joined the rest, hanging free and curling down her back.

'There,' she sighed finally, placing a hand upon the top of her head and kissing the back, 'lovely.'

Fritha laughed warmly and shook her head, her curls dancing.

'If you say so. All right then, ready to break some hearts?'

xxx

Jaheira stared down at her hand, or rather the five Talis cards it held and tried to concentrate past the gentle murmuring of the pair next to her, Aerie sat so close to the tiefling she was practically in his lap, while their own cards rested almost ignored in their hands. Ever since the previous night and the elf's sudden boldness of affections, the two had been a lot more demonstrative in their regard for one another, much to the druid's displeasure.

Jaheira sighed tersely. She, Haer'Dalis, Aerie and Minsc had lingered at the table after the girls had departed, Jaheira pulling the worn deck of cards from her bag to pass the time. But the fact that Haer'Dalis and Aerie were also enjoying diversions of a more intimate nature and that her own worries were not so easily forgotten, meant Minsc was having a surprisingly good evening, Boo scurrying in and out the stacks of coppers they had been playing for. Jaheira felt her temple begin to twitch as the sound of light kisses whispered at her ear.

'If you are both still hungry, there is some bread left over from dinner,' she offered dryly, well rewarded as the pair broke apart and went back to their cards, Aerie a satisfying shade of scarlet.

Right, Jaheira considered, determinedly pulling her attention back to the game. If she could just get a court card on her next turn, she would likely win this hand, and it was as she moved to draw a fresh card from the pile in the centre that she noticed them. Fritha and Nalia had appeared on the stairs opposite, both cloaked and heads close as they chattered quietly. Nalia was wearing the same blue dress she had worn the previous evening, while Fritha looked as dressed-up as Jaheira had ever seen her, wearing the pair of black trousers she had not bothered to take-up, the hems trailing slightly on the ground and her sandaled feet just visible underneath. One of Nalia's sashes was tied about her waist, the tails hanging down her back and the whole effect was very striking, the green of it going well with the blue tunic of her own she was wearing. The pair were still talking and giggling quietly as they drifted over to their table, Minsc the first to comment on the change, the ranger glancing up from his cards to notice their approach

'Young Nalia, ah, and young Fritha too! See how nice they look, Boo,' he beamed, scooping up the hamster to give him a better view, while across the table Haer'Dalis grinned.

'Indeed, Minsc, like two celestials come from blessed Elysium to grace this baser plane.'

The girls smiled slightly, but said nothing; a wise decision in light of Aerie's suddenly stormy expression. Jaheira smiled as well, finally taking her card and pleased to see it was the queen of wands, 'You are going somewhere?'

Fritha nodded. 'Nalia and I thought we'd go and have a look about some different taverns.'

'Did you indeed? Well, have a pleasant evening,' the druid finished, turning back to her cards as they made to leave and it was only then she noticed it. 'Wait, Fritha, where is your sword?'

The girl glanced to her hip, flushing slightly as she replied, 'I left it off, it doesn't look right with the sash.'

Jaheira frowned. 'Do not be foolish! You cannot leave without it, go and fetch it now.'

'I will _not_,' Fritha snapped, really pink now and looking more than embarrassed by the fuss being made, 'No other girls wear them, why must I always stand out?'

'You are not _other girls_.'

'I am tonight.'

Fritha was looking unusually defiant, but Jaheira was not accustomed to backing down either and an argument was only just diverted by the arrival of the squire, returned from the Order and clearly quite surprised by the sight that greeted him.

'Nalia, Fritha, you both look, ah… nice,' he said after a moment, Haer'Dalis rolling his eyes despairingly which prompted laughter from Aerie and smiles from the rest of them, the tension over the scene dissipating somewhat as Anomen still looked on, thoroughly bemused. Fritha sent him a kind smile.

'Hello, Anomen, has it stopped raining?'

Anomen nodded slowly. 'Yes, but a moment ago… Where are you two going?'

'We don't know really, just out,' Fritha answered with a smile and a shrug. The squire frowned slightly.

'And when will you be back?'

'Later,' trilled Nalia, linking her arm through Fritha's and with that they were gone.

Anomen joined their table looking disgruntled, the man nodding curt thanks as Aerie poured him some ale, and Jaheira noticed he didn't stay long after he had finished it, excusing himself early to retire for the evening.


	40. The devil you know

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**The devil you know**

The previous rains had left the air crisp, the cobbles still wet and glistening in the moonlight, and even the rundown streets of the quayside held a strange kind of beauty as Fritha and Nalia made their way back to the Coronet. They had begun their evening in the Promenade, wandering from tavern to tavern, sometimes following groups they had fallen in with, other times just the two of them, the night passing in a heady round of dancing and laughter, before they'd at last found themselves on the other side of the city, in a tavern just on the edge of the docks.

There had been no room for dancing, cramped and crowded as the place had been, but a group of musicians were playing. Old local songs that all in Athkatla had grown up hearing, the whole of the tavern joining in at the choruses, united by the singing and their shared memories, and in that atmosphere of drunken camaraderie all were brothers, regardless of which side of the river you'd grown up on. Something the girls could not help but get carried away by and even as they had left the tavern, the feeling stayed with them still, their fingers entwined and swinging their arms between them as they made a leisurely pace back to the slums, Fritha singing at the top of her voice, her uninhibited joy wonderful to see.

'_A-roving, a-roving, since roving's been my ru-i-in, I'll go no more a-roving with you fair maid_-'

'Well, what's this? Two young ladies out carousing?' came a smooth voice, the girls stopping as four young men stepped from the side street they had just reached to stand before them and Nalia tensed slightly, her grip on Fritha's hand tightening.

They were dressed in well-made if plain clothes, each armed with a duelling sword and with probably enough skill to use it if necessary and Nalia placed them immediately as the sons of some of Athkatla's merchant families. The speaker, a tall lean youth with rather wiry brown hair and a long freckled nose was slightly ahead of the others, two of the remaining men, both of the darker Amnian colouring, standing either side of a pale blonde third who looked to be deep in his cups and was swaying threateningly.

The tall man took another step forward and Nalia felt herself relaxing slightly at the warm laughter in his voice as he continued, 'And there I was thinking fair Lliira Herself had been cast again from the heavens by such singing.'

Fritha laughed, quite unembarrassed at being caught it seemed.

'You best be careful, She may not take too kindly to that comparison.'

The youth grinned broadly and the gesture suited him, giving his plain face a sudden impish charm.

'Ah, I've no fear, for She knows I am a _devoted_ patron of such things. I am Addrick, ladies,' he offered with a slight bow, 'and these are my companions, Olwyn, Thallen and the rather worse for wear Kassus, who has recently quarrelled with his lady love and has decided to take his revenge by giving himself the most _awful_ hangover tomorrow.'

Both groups shared a laugh at the irony of such truths, Kassus seemingly torn between joining them and cursing loudly for his friends to be silent.

'This very moment we go to see some friends of ours who are playing at an ale-house near here,' Addrick continued with a smile, 'Might I be so bold as to ask if you ladies would like to accompany us? The surroundings may be poor, but the musicians are the finest in the city.'

Fritha glanced to Nalia, an eyebrow raised.

'What do you think?'

Nalia dipped her face slightly to consider it. She was a little tired to be honest and yet in the same instance, she did not want the evening to end, so happy as she was. She sent the girl next to her a slight smile, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

'Well, surely one more cannot hurt, can it?'

Addrick beamed, sweeping forward to gallantly take her free hand and plant a kiss upon the back.

'Ah, wits as well as beauty; m'lady you are a rare bird.'

'Oh, go to!' she scolded, batting him away. But Addrick just laughed, moving to stand between the girls with an arm about each and Nalia noticed his two more sober friends share a smile and roll their eyes behind him as the youth continued.

'Now, how did it go? _In Athkatla there lived a maid, mark well what I say_-'

Fritha laughed delightedly, her clear high voice quickly joining his and it seemed her joy was infectious, Nalia and the others soon joining them as they continued on their way.

'_In Athkatla there lived a maid and she was mistress of her trade, I'll go no more a-roving with you fair maid. A-roving, a-roving, since roving's been my ru-i-in, I'll go no more a-roving with you fair maid_...'

xxx

The tavern it turned out, was only a short walk from the one they had just left, the peeling sign outside proclaiming 'the Waterdeep Packet', while a silhouette of ship in full sail was painted underneath. A couple of streets in from the quays, it was a lot rougher than the other taverns they had spent their evening in, but there were musicians as promised, half a dozen or so couples already moving about the floor, and from the look of them Nalia suspected at least half of the women dancing were there on business rather than pleasure.

Men glassy-eyed with drink stumbled past them with barely a glance, while others looked up from the tables to openly appraise but Nalia did not much care either way; she never really felt properly afraid when Fritha was near. Addrick led them forward, moving over to a table in the far corner that enjoyed a good view of the band, the youth drawing out a chair for her, though, before Nalia could sit a rough voice called out over the music.

'Ah, two fine ladies have _deigned_ to grace our lowly tavern.'

Nalia turned to see a man much older than they, probably of late middle age with a wiry stooped appearance and who was clearly deep in his cups. He took another unsteady step towards them, his lined face twisted with disdain as he continued.

'What you in here for? Looking not to lose touch with the _common man_, 'cause I can help you there.'

He gave Fritha a suggestive leer, the girl's face instantly pulling into an expression of such incredulous disgust, it would have been amusing under any other circumstances.

'No thanks, mate. I mean there is slumming and then there is _slumming_.'

'Ha, well said, m'lady,' began Olwyn with a harsh bark of laughter, the stockier youth laying a hand expressively on his hilt and Nalia noticed others about the room seemed to tense. 'We want no trouble, sir, so clear off.'

'And just who are you to tell me, boy?'

'Ah, leave 'em be, Revé,' growled a rough voice from the gloom behind them, Nalia just able to make out a face as old as Revé's, the skin tanned and weathered like old leather, his greying hair hanging lank to his shoulders, 'they've done nowt to you.'

Revé seemed torn a moment, eyes fixed on the man at the table beneath him before he shot one last disdainful look at their group and slunk off to the bar. Addrick heaved a relieved sigh, the smile already back on his young face as he offered Nalia a seat, Thallen stepping round the table to draw one out for Fritha as Olwyn nodded to the bar behind them.

'Right, shall I get us some drinks?'

And despite their troubled start, the evening was quite enjoyable, the youths' banter providing ready amusement as they shared stories, the young men always ready with a joke at one another's expense. They could not be accused of exaggeration either when it came to the music, their three friends who made up the band as fine musicians as any Nalia had heard before and clearly better than an establishment of that sort could usually get. But, as Fritha had said, such was the way of things when you were starting out, the girl kindly telling Addrick to let them know that should they ever wish to play at the Five Flagons she would vouch for their skill.

Nalia smiled, sipping her wine as the sprightly melody of a jig drifted over her, the loud bawdiness of her surroundings not offending her as she thought it would have and she felt quite at ease as she watched the tavern about her. The man Revé was stood at the bar, paying them no heed as he chatted amiably with his own companions, while at the table next to them the man who had so neatly stepped in to end their altercation was still sat. The youths had been sure to buy the man a drink every time they'd got a round in and Addrick was sat at his table talking to him now, Nalia sat next to the steadily drinking Kassus, while Fritha had taken to the floor with Olwyn. Nalia let her gaze drift over to the girl as she tripped lightly through the steps, her amber curls dancing too as she moved and every now and then they would catch in the torchlight to flash a bright burnished copper.

'Your friend's a fair one,' came Kassus with a deep sigh, as though forming the words had been an effort and Nalia smiled, eyes still trained on the dancers.

'Yes. Yes, she is.'

'All that hair, so bright and fiery, like-like the dawn… Oh gods,' he wailed suddenly, Nalia whirling to him in alarm to see him sink his head into his hands. 'Oh, I just love her so much! My sweet Aubrietia!'

The girl frowned, trying to force a sympathy to her manner as she awkwardly patted his arm.

'Er, there, there.'

'Ah, sorry about this, m'lady,' came a voice at her shoulder, the welcome form of Thallen appearing, just returned from the bar and instantly taking the seat opposite, his dark eyes sending her smile as he gave the despairing man a hearty clap on the back. 'Come now, Kassus, you and Aubrietia quarrel like this at least once a tenday. Why she's probably at home now, lamenting this just as you are.'

Nalia smiled gratefully, the youth giving her a grin and a wink as she slipped from her seat and moved on to the next table, Addrick glancing up at her arrival and noticing the commotion she had left.

'By Sune, look at the man. That's what love does to you; one little tiff and it's like the world's at an end. I don't know why he doesn't just marry the girl and be done with it.' Addrick sighed half-exasperated, half-amused, gracefully unfolding his long frame from the chair as he rose. 'Please excuse me, m'lady, Barg.'

Nalia and the man opposite both nodded politely, Nalia watching as the youth moved to join the pair before she turned back to her own table. The man she was left with looked no better close up, his worn face dominated by a heavy brow and thin lips which gave him a mean appearance, the girl smiling pleasantly as she forced herself to begin.

'I must thank you, sir, for your intervention with Revé before; we had not wanted to cause any trouble.'

The man's face broke into a wide grin, which had the duel effect of making him look much younger and far friendlier.

'Ah, you're quite welcome, love. And there's no need for this _sir _either, just call me Barg. As for Revé, you pay him no mind. He don't like nobles much, especially when they come round here slumming and making sport of what other people have to make a living from, but I could see you two girls were all right when you came in. And here I am proved right! Both of you drinking and dancing, just having a good time like the rest of us; that's how it should be. Speaking of which,' he laughed, as Fritha arrived at their table, breathless and beaming, a glance behind confirming that poor Olwyn had also been enlisted in cheering his maudlin friend. Nalia smiled.

'Did you enjoy the dance, dearest? You looked very nice.'

'Indeed, she speaks very truly,' agreed Barg, 'Nobles or not, you're both right nice girls.'

Fritha grinned, looking rather pleased as she dropped into the chair next to her and poured herself some wine.

'Cheers.'

'Aye, I've always said at the end of the day you just got to judge as you find,' continued Barg sagely, 'and having a title don't mean you're any better a person. Ah, I could tell you things about the nobility round here that would make your hair curl.'

Fritha was clearly trying to hide her smile as next to her Nalia stifled a laugh, sending a pointing glance to the wavy mane of curls that covered the girl's shoulders while Barg continued, oblivious.

'Take my boss for example. He's an all right sort for a noble, a bit full of airs for me, but he treats me an' the boys honourably enough, keeping the guard off our backs and the like.'

'The guards?' repeated Nalia, feeling an unease stir in her stomach.

'Aye, love, we're pirates,' Barg announced blithely and Nalia could not help but notice a few of the men at the surrounding tables glance up from their drinks. 'Been in the trade what, nearly forty years now, man and boy. My boss has us working the main routes south to Tethyr and Calimshan. Oh, the others are dead quiet about it, but I'm right proud me, and it keeps those merchants on their toes for starters, aye?' He laughed loudly, taking another drink before continuing. 'Of course, my boss, he's into other things as well, but me and lads don't go in for slaving and the like.'

'_Slaving?_' cried Fritha sounding as appalled as Nalia felt and Barg nodded, his manner suddenly solemn as he took in their shocked expressions.

'Aye, I know, girls. And all the time walks about the city hobnobbing with nobles and magistrates as though butter wouldn't melt.' The man shook his head lifting his cup for another mouthful. 'Aye, he's a right piece of work that Isea Roenall.'

xxx

Haer'Dalis leant back against the fireplace with a slight sigh, a cup of wine lolling in his hand. Aerie was but a pace from him, sat just as he was upon the hearthrug before a low fire, though she was infinitely less relaxed, the elf hunched over slightly as she mended his sleeve, sewing with sharp irritated movements and the tiefling felt quite sorry for his coat, very glad that Aerie had been in a better mood when she'd tended his arm earlier.

The bard sighed again and more loudly this time, which earned him a glance from the girl opposite though the atmosphere between them was no warmer for it as she returned instantly to her work. Aerie had been very brisk with him ever since the girls had left; something which he had initially, and _erroneously_, attributed to them leaving without inviting her. It was only when they had both retired to his room and he had gone to sooth her that he had discovered the true reason for her ill humour. _Apparently_, on the Prime, it was not _done_ to openly admire other girls when having just been sharing kisses with your own. His ensuing amusement at the irony of his mistake, had only, if possible made her mood worse, as had his gently telling her there was no need to be jealous.

'I am _not_ jealous!' she had snapped, looking appalled he'd even dared to suggest it and it had taken quite a bit of talk to smooth_ those_ ruffled feathers, the girl finally breaking the silence between them with an offer to mend his coat. Now, though, he had the distinct feeling this had merely been a means of avoiding him rather than from any desire to mend the breach between them, the girl conveniently immersed in her work from that point on.

Haer'Dalis watched her as she sewed, her movements no less graceful for their sharpness. There had been a time not long past where Aerie would have been too shy to dare reproach him for anything, and now here she was, in a strop over something he considered very slight indeed; he had to admit, he rather liked the change. With a sigh, Aerie at last took up the delicate silver scissors from the rug next to her and cut the thread, the girl deftly avoiding his eye as she passed his coat back to him.

'Here, your sleeve is mended.'

'Aerie, my dove,' he sighed, finding it very difficult not to smile in the face of her continuing petulance, 'come now, talk to me; we can solve nothing in this silence.'

But she could clearly hear the amusement in his voice, Aerie finally glancing up to fix him with an unusually piercing look.

'You think I am being silly, don't you?'

He went to refute it but she had already continued.

'Perhaps I am, but it is how I feel. You always flirt so readily with others, it is not that I am jealous, but it makes me feel what we have is lessened by the thought that any other pretty face could replace me.'

Haer'Dalis frowned, guilt tingling along his spine. He had never wished to make Aerie feel uncared for, it was merely how he had always behaved, taking what pleasures were offered by his surroundings and he sighed, slightly frustrated that the elf seemed to yet again require reassurance of his regard.

'Aerie, my love, you really must not think so. Just because I show an appreciation of others' beauty does not mean my regard for you is any less. Would you be making such a fuss if I had admired some jewel or poem?

'It isn't the same,' she sighed and Haer'Dalis shook his head gently.

'Nay indeed, the difference exists only in your mind. The girls looked very fair this evening and I took pleasure in it and told them so. I could praise your own beauty with verse and song to last till the dawn if you wished it, but I fear the fact I would have to may rather mar what I was admiring.'

Aerie shot him a look, the colour rising in her cheeks with her temper.

'I would not expect nor wish you to, Haer'Dalis! B-But is it so wrong of me to want something more of you than the words you offer every pretty girl? Our relationship deepens with every passing day, but you are still as far from me as you were when we met. I just want to grow close to you, but it is impossible. You will never share you past, never talk of our future. It is so disheartening when you refuse to speak of it, as though you do not believe we will have one…'

Haer'Dalis sighed again; the girl's way of seeing the world was so fundamentally different to his own. Why did she equate intimacy with knowledge of your partner for a start, when he knew of so many relationships brought to an end in the tedium of such familiarity. Had any of his previous loves been so? And he cast his mind back to Sigil and the far-reaching planes, trying to recall it. No, all had just seemed content enough to the enjoy time and the passions they had had together, never fretting about where it would lead.

'Aerie, I do not understand you. All things are doomed to end and only in the present can we truly love, which I do and most sincerely; is that not enough? The past is gone and buried; why restore it to unwelcome life with unnecessary talk? Let it rest as it should. And as for the future, oh my dove, love in the future is no more than fantasy.'

'Well, I like to fantasise!' Aerie burst out indignantly, 'I like to imagine our future together! To dream and plan and play. I _know_ nothing is certain, but if you were only imagining it as well, Haer'Dalis, then at least I would know you would _like_ to be there… with me…'

She trailed off, looking quite surprised by her outburst and he could not help but laugh; she was quite unlike any girl he'd ever met and he loved her for it. Yes, his previous relationships had been less tying, just two people enjoying the time the fates have given them. But he had been with the troupe back them, both blessed and cursed to follow their fortunes across the planes and perhaps those women had entered into the thing knowing he would eventually leave, tempering the depths of their regard accordingly and even if it was all doomed to end, it was rather nice Aerie looked upon the thing with an air of permanence. Was there truly any harm in indulging in some idle planning? He gathered an arm affectionately about her shoulders, leaning in to kiss her temple.

'Oh my dove, as you will it. But I am no seer and this is all but a fiction, so you cannot blame me if our final performances differ.'

xxx

Fritha was striding through the empty streets, Nalia at her side, her skirts gathered loosely in one hand as they hurried back to the slums, the pair chattering, quiet and feverish, as they went.

'I cannot believe it!' hissed Nalia for the sixth time since they had left the tavern, the girl pale with worry and anger, 'I do not think Barg was lying by any means, but Isea a _slaver_? The financer of _pirates_! I always knew he was a cad, but _this_? Something must be done Fritha! That he would commit these atrocities is bad enough, but that he is using _my _birthright to do it, sullying the good name of _my_ family!' she cried, for a moment furious before her worries overwhelmed her once more and she groaned miserably, 'Oh, but what are we to do? No one will believe the word of a drunken pirate over that of a militia captain!'

Fritha shook her head, anxious but resolute as they turned off the main street and down an alley she knew to be a good shortcut.

'We'll think of something, Nalia, I promise you. We-'

Fritha stopped dead as she suddenly realised they were not alone, the girls so focused on their own talk she had not noticed the other voices. Up ahead and half-concealed in the gloom, a group of people were stood; a tall pale woman flanked by three men and talking to another two in the darkness, both with their faces obscured by deep cowls. Nalia tugged wordlessly at her sleeve and they took a step back, melting silently into the shadows of a rotting doorway.

'-and our offer still stands,' came the pale dark-haired gentleman from the larger group. Indeed, there was nothing else Fritha could have called him from the way he was dressed, in clothes that would have not looked out of place on the highest of nobles and Fritha suddenly noticed his companions were no less richly attired, the other two men in shirts and coats of good cloth while the woman wore a dark green gown of what looked to be silk, the stiff fabric shimmering in what little light there was. 'Join our guild,' the gentleman continued, 'and the rewards will be great indeed. Refuse and you will only fall with Aran and the rest of his Shadow Thieves when the time comes.'

Fritha felt Nalia's grip on her arm tighten and she nodded imperceptibly. The rival guild, they could be no one else!

'Listen to him, Venric, Tessel,' assured one of well-dressed men, his blond hair grey in the gloom, 'he speaks the truth.'

The two men they were speaking to both nodded, though one more contemplatively than the other, their plain serviceable clothes looking even drabber next to the finery of those with who they were talking.

'Aye, I don't doubt it,' began the shorter of the two, his voice slow and measured, 'But there are some things worth more than fine clothes and a heavy purse, a man's conscious for instance; I never thought I'd see you turncoat, Reed.'

'Tessel!' cried the man at his side, but Reed just shook his fair head.

'No, his words are fair, Venric. Ten years I had been working for Renal, and I was hardly any better off than when I joined the guild. Every night I was out, risking the guards and Mask knows what else to make my tithes, only to make Aran and the other heads richer. When the Lady Parisa came to me I did not hesitate a moment.'

Reed dipped a slight bow to the woman next to him and Fritha watched as she stepped forward with a rustle of silk, a shaft of moonlight driving back the gloom that had concealed her before. She was just as pale as the well-dressed gentleman next to her, her white skin almost grey in parts while dark ringlets fell to her shoulders, the pair so similar in appearance they could have been brother and sister and there was an unnatural grace to her movement that left Fritha cold.

'It is all as Reed says,' the woman agreed smoothly, 'and you will find gold enough can inspire the treason of knights and quiet the conscience of even the most devout priest. And for those too _honourable_ for that, we have other methods of… _persuasion_.'

Parisa and her equally pale companion glanced pointedly to each other, though it was not until the women smiled knowingly at him that Fritha realised the truth of it, her bright white fangs almost glowing in the gloom. Vampires. There could be no doubt, and their veiled talk about 'persuasion' suddenly made sense.

Fritha swallowed, holding her arms rigid at her sides in an effort to stop the tremble in her hands. She would not have wanted to come upon this group under normal circumstances, armed and with the others around her. But _now_, when she was there alone with Nalia, without sword or armour or _anything_! She swallowed again, the inside of her mouth feeling tacky and cloy; there was only one way out of this now.

Silently she gestured back the way they had come, the pair edging along the alley with an aching slowness and were almost around the corner and back into the relative safety of the main street when it happened. Her eyes trained so wholly on those before her, Fritha did not notice the grate until she had stepped upon it, the metal grille flipping up with her weight to crash back on to cobbles, the clang pealing along the empty street, impossibly loud, and in the gloom Fritha watched the silent dismay twist Nalia's face, her own dread rising as the voices they had left in the alley stopped instantly, silence holding them until-

'We know you are there,' called Parisa, her tone smooth and commanding, 'come out where we can see you.'

Fritha swallowed dryly, raising a hand to indicate for her to wait and Nalia shook her head vehemently, making to step forward. But Fritha pushed her back, an angry determination to her eyes that belied the mildness of her touch and before Nalia could raise any other objection, the girl turned on her heel and stepped into the alley.

Fritha carried herself forward with small scurrying steps, her heart beating so wildly she was finding it difficult to draw breath. She could do this. She had done such before, at the bandit encampment of Peldsvale, at the Iron Throne in The Gate… Only on those occasions there had still been room for error and the idea a mistake here would undoubtedly mean her death was making her manner all the more difficult to master.

_Come on, focus!_ snapped a voice behind her eyes, angry in her fear, and with a deep breath Fritha took herself back to the girl she had been a few years ago, before she had been driven from Candlekeep, artless, good and too _useless_ to be any threat… someone you would not even take the trouble to kill…

Fritha swallowed. The fear she needed to present was _very _easy to come by and it was merely her naivety that was pretence, Parisa sending her a cool appraising look as the girl stopped before them, nervously fiddling with the tails of her sash.

'So, child, you heard us speaking?' she began and Fritha nodded, pausing a moment before she answered hesitantly, as one who suspects they are in trouble, but does not know what they have done wrong; a manner she got very good at back in Candlekeep.

'Y-Yes m'lady. I went to take a shortcut home and then I heard voices.'

'Just voices? Then why did you go to hide yourself?' demanded the gentleman, his dark eyes boring into hers. Fritha dipped her face, twisting her the sash more violently as she considered her reply. There was a sure answer to this, considering the time and the area, but should she risk it…?

'I, well, begging your pardon, but I didn't want to interrupt anything. Many girls work round here of an evening and I thought- I thought you might have been a, well, a _lady of the night_, as it were.'

A moment of silence before the woman began to laugh, deep and throaty, the man at her side clearly outraged.

'A lady of the… She calls you a _whore_, Parisa!'

'Oh hush, Durst,' the woman dismissed, her amusement dying as suddenly as it had begun. 'As for you child, what is your name?'.

'Tilambré, m'lady,' Fritha answered, taking a moment to add with a hesitant smile, '–o-only they all call me Til_amber_ for my hair.'

Durst's eyes narrowed.

'You do not sound as though you are from Athkatla. What are you doing in the city?'

'If it please you, I'm from further north, from the town of Beregost, but I've come to the city to learn to become an actress, -I-I'm a member of the Crown troupe,' she added, considering that if any trouble was to come of this she may as well send it their way and return the favour.

Parisa watched her unblinkingly for what felt like hours, Fritha trying to hold on to her air timorous innocence as her heart rattled in her ribcage, the moments creeping slowly by until even the thieves began to fidget, Venric, the taller of the two deserters first to break the silence, his hand twitching nervously over the hilt of his dagger.

'Perhaps we should deal with it, just-just in case, like. We can't have this getting back to the guild…'

'Leave over, Venric,' snapped Tessel, pulling his friend's arm roughly away from the blade, 'she's just a kid.'

But Parisa paid them no mind, eyes still fixed on her and silence fell again with the realisation that this was not to be a group decision.

'Parisa?' came Durst, the woman not sparing him a glance as at last she spoke.

'Go, child, and tell no one of what you saw here.'

Fritha nodded, scurrying back in the main street where her stride instantly lengthened, the girl not even pausing as she linked arms with Nalia to pull the girl after her. And the pair made it to the end of the street before they broke into a dead run, which did not cease until the docks were far behind them.

xxx

Fled though they had from the docks, it had been over an hour later before they'd finally returned to the Coronet, the girls walking the maze of darkened streets, taking every measure to ensure they had not been followed. A breathless 'Goodnight' in the hallway and each had retired immediately to their own rooms, both clearly shaken and needing some time alone to deal with the disturbing revelations the night had provided them.

Fritha stood at her dresser, her heart still beating much more heavily than usual as she watched the mirror before, the girl within pale and drawn, her bright clothes a mockery of the bleak dread she felt, and she could not seem to forget the way Parisa had looked at her, so cold and predatory. For all her lies, it was only by that creature's grace that they had been allowed to leave unharmed and the idea that they had avoided death by such a fine degree was overwhelming.

With trembling hands Fritha took up the jug and filled the cracked washbasin before her, stooping slightly as she went to scoop some water across her face and she only just stifled a cry, pulling her fingers back from the suddenly scalding water. She shook her hand vehemently, a stream of curses running through her mind as the pain slowly faded and she turned again to the bowl, watching the shimmering curls of vapour rising from the water within. With quick, almost panicked movements Fritha flung open her window and empted the contents into the street below before returning the basin to her dresser, the girl almost dropping the jug in her haste to refill it.

Three more times she heated the water with but a thought before she finally convinced herself it was not just some sort of accident; the magic she knew was trapped within herself was finally out, it seemed, and yet the thought was not a welcome one.

Fritha took a step back, sinking on to the bed behind to rest her head in her hands with a wavering sigh. It seemed impossible that a few hours ago she had been walking hand in hand with Nalia, singing with a joy that had filled her very heart. Now, with the sudden discovery of a guild of vampires in the city and the clear pain Isea's alleged crimes had brought Nalia, the additional discovery of her magic left Fritha feeling as though she did not even know _herself_ anymore, let alone the world.

Fritha glanced again to the mirror opposite, the blurred outline of a copper-haired girl just visible in the steam-misted glass and providing a far more accurate reflection of her feelings than her face.

xxx

Breakfast in the common room was the usual noisy affair, and though Jaheira would never say she was getting used to it, she was slowly finding the bustle easier to ignore. The druid was at their usual table, the others sat about her as they awaited their first meal, everyone present with the exception of the squire who had left early with plans to attend morning prayers and collect Anarg's cup on his return; the Order intent on keeping hold of it until the very last moment it seemed.

Jaheira took up the large pot the maid had just placed on their table, moving to serve the tea and Minsc helped her, Aerie and Haer'Dalis barely noticing as the large man pushed two filled cups before them, so caught up in each other as they were. Something Jaheira was surprised the two girls had so far refrained from commenting on, Fritha and Nalia both pale and quiet, only lifting their attention from the table to cast unreadable looks at each other and the druid suspected they may now be regretting their night-time jaunt and the liberal amounts of wine which had no doubt accompanied it.

Jaheira smiled to herself, glancing up as the tavern door creaked open, Anomen appearing to march over to their table and take a seat, and Jaheira instinctively passed him the cup she had just filled.

'Good morning, Anomen. You have the chalice?'

Anomen swallowed the sip of tea he had just taken and nodded slowly.

'Yes, my lady… though I must inform you that Sir Ryan Trawl was still very reluctant to part with it even this morning. As the Commander says, if Anarg is reunited with his cup, it will merely strengthen his name about the city as a paladin, putting the Order in a very poor light whilst making him even more dangerous.' Anomen sighed heavily. 'And so, Sir Ryan has given us but three days to return the cup to the Order once more.'

'What?' Jaheira exclaimed, hardly able to believe what she was hearing, 'So soon? But Anarg will surely believe he can keep it.'

Anomen nodded gravely, a troubled darkness in his pale eyes.

'No doubt. I believe Sir Ryan wishes to force Anarg's hand and make the man show his true nature.'

'Perhaps we _could_ give it to Anarg,' considered Aerie aloud, 'and then steal it back from him later. We have already stolen it from the Order, after all.'

'Yes, Aerie, but we did not actually _accomplish_ that task,' Jaheira sighed, the elf flushing as she shot her an angry look, though the druid barely noticed, her attention already half-turned to the two girls opposite, who had been surprisingly silent during the exchange. 'You two are very quiet this morning, how was your evening?'

The girls shared a wary look and Jaheira frowned; she had the distinct impression she was not going to like their answer.

'Well, it was very enjoyable… up to a point,' admitted Fritha after a pause, the girl swallowing as she continued nervously. 'Now don't go mad, Jaheira, but on the way back we may have had a run in with that rival guild of Renal's.'

'Oh, did you indeed?' Jaheira continued slowly as she tried to rein in her temper; she should have _known_ the pair going out alone would end in folly. 'Since you are here and unharmed I assume the meeting was in our favour. Do you have an idea as to where Renal's thieves are disappearing?'

'Well, yes, and perhaps the reason so many are leaving too.' Fritha swallowed again, looking as though she was having to steel herself to continue. 'Though I'm pretty sure it can't count for all of their guild, two of the ones we saw, well, they were vampires.'

There was a deafening clatter as Anomen simultaneous knocked his cup to the floor and Minsc slammed a fist on the table to bellow '_What?_", a suddenly white Aerie hastening to hush him, and even Haer'Dalis looked more troubled than intrigued by this revelation. Jaheira flexed her hands under the table, finding it difficult to speak past her rage as she leaned across the table towards them, her voice little more than an angry hiss.

'There were _vampires_ abroad last night and you two were wandering about the city without _any_ means of defending yourselves?'

Fritha frowned, physically squaring up to her, though she didn't look overly sure of herself as she made her reply.

'Well, come on! What good would a sword have been against a pair of bloody vampires anyway! If anything leaving it off helped; I just looked like any other citizen and unimportant enough to be allowed to live.' And the girl quickly described the meeting for them, explaining, from what they had heard before their discovery, how this rival guild had gained power in the city so quickly; some people deserting the Shadow Thieves willingly while others were being convinced to change their allegiances by other more insidious methods.

Jaheira watched the group around her as the girl spoke. It was strange how everyone reacted so predictable even to such shocking news. Aerie's worry, Minsc's outrage, while Haer'Dalis actually blithely congratulated Fritha on her acting ability. The only reaction that truly surprised Jaheira was Anomen's. Livid though she had been, it was nothing compared to the squire's anger, the man sat silent as Fritha told her tale, his face pale and set, lips pressed into a thin line as though to keep himself from bellowing at her.

As for Fritha, the girl's stance on going out unarmed remained indignant, but Jaheira could tell it was a front for the same fear she herself felt, the girl clearly as scared as she was by the idea of what _could_ have happened had the vampires not been so easily appeased, and that alone had calmed the druid.

'Anyway,' Fritha sighed, once she had finished, sending a glance to Nalia who nodded imperceptibly, 'any more talk on this will have to come later, because vampires weren't the only thing we encountered last night. We were in a tavern a couple of streets in from the quays when we met a man who claimed he was a pirate in the employ of no other than Isea Roenall.'

'Your betrothed?' gasped Aerie and Nalia nodded wordlessly, Fritha quickly relating all of what Barg had revealed to them.

The girl finished, a silence hung over the table, everyone casting wary glances to one another when Jaheira finally asked the inevitable question.

'And what do you intend to do?'

Fritha took a long draft of tea and when she spoke her tone was unusually grave.

'There is only one man who can help with this now.'

And Jaheira sighed as the squire began to colour, the group around her dropping their heads as they prepared for the imminent argument.

xxx

Fritha stared up at the plain grey building before her, the breeze coming in from the sea that morning, cold and carrying a threat of rain and next to her she watched Nalia shiver under her cloak. Anomen's anger at her plans to meet with Renal had been fierce but short-lived, the man once more pointing out the imprudence of putting themselves at the mercy of thieves and warning that these were favours the thief master would surely expect to be repaid before storming off to the bar for a new cup, seemingly no more to say on the matter. At her side, Nalia stirred.

'He is not expecting us, is he?' she confirmed, sending a pensive look to the building before them, 'Do you think he will be able to see us?'

Fritha shrugged.

'Renal's very good about making time for me -and we always have news of this guild to tempt him,' she added with a smile which she was glad to see returned. 'Do you want to wait for me inside or would you prefer to walk down to one of the inns on the quayside and wait there?'

Nalia turned sharply to face her at those words though.

'Wait for you? Fritha, I mean to come with you, we will see Renal together.'

Fritha stood silent a moment. She didn't know why she hadn't expected Nalia to want to join her in the meeting, but at the same time she did not want the girl to attend too. Fritha did not yet know what she would have to trade for the information should Renal prove unwilling and she did not want a situation to arise where Nalia was forced to choose between exposing Isea at some great cost or allowing him to just continue with his depredations. Fritha would rather bear that decision alone and it wasn't as though she hadn't had more than enough practise of choosing the "lesser evil" by now…

'Nalia, I can deal with this better on my own.'

'Fritha,' the girl cried, her frustrations rising, 'you know how vital this is to me! I want to be there.'

'Yes, I do understand how important this is and that is why I must insist I go alone. That way I will have the best chance of getting the information we need.'

'I don't see how…' the girl muttered, trailing off to shake her head in defeat and Fritha smiled kindly, taking a step towards the doors

'Come on, dearest.'

Inside, Nalia moved to settle on some crates just by the door, Myrtle appearing instantly and after a quick conversation the bright girl was leading Fritha up the stairs to show her through to Renal's office, the man glancing up from the paper strewn desk as they entered and he was on his feet and stepping forward to welcome her in, but a moment later.

'Ah Fritha, my dear, always a pleasure,' he smiled warmly, taking her hand as he gestured to the cushions before his low desk, before moving past her towards the door, 'I shall send for some tea. I've just had the most wonderful blend brought in from Kara-Tur that I know you will appreciate; almost citrus in its aftertaste.'

'I am grateful you would think of me,' she answered, the gravity to her voice halting him, ' but I must ask we put aside our usual pleasantries; I believe you will appreciate my promptness when I tell you it pertains to your rival guild.'

Renal took a step back towards her, his manner suddenly all business.

'You have news of them?'

'I have,' and Fritha told him everything of her meeting with Parisa and the others, though she left out the names of the two potential deserters, knowing it would mean their deaths, although she was sorely tempted in Venric's case. Silence followed her news, Renal frowning and contemplative and he at last returned to his seat, gesturing vaguely once more for her to do the same, the girl sinking slowly on to the cushions opposite him and drawing a deep breath as she steeled herself for her next task.

'I thank you for this news, Fritha.'

'You are most welcome, and- and there is something else I must ask you, Renal, a matter of great importance. I need to know what links Isea Roenall has to less reputable activities in the city.'

Renal glanced up, blinking a moment, still a touch distrait before shaking his head, smiling faintly.

'Ah, Fritha… Isea Roenall has no ties with the Shadow Thieves.'

'That does not mean you don't know what he is doing…' Fritha swallowed, her voice coming slightly hoarse as for a moment she considered returning to Nalia empty-handed, 'Please, Renal, this is really important.'

The old thief sent her a contemplative look

'Is that so? Why then did you not ask of him before you gave me this news of the guild?'

Fritha frowned.

'You were already owed such under the terms of our deal, to withhold it from you in exchange for something else would have been wrong.'

Renal smiled wryly, shaking his head.

'Ah, my dear Fritha, some men would say such honesty makes a fool of you… but I am not one of them. Aran, the Shadow Master makes it a point to keep well-informed about those whose trades edge onto our own just in case they have the imprudence to cross him, and I know for a fact Isea keeps the majority of his records, both good and ill, in this Athkatla residence in the north-west of the city. But I would work quickly, were I you,' he continued, a graver tone creeping into his voice, 'Barg was pulled from the harbour early this morning, his throat had been cut. It would perhaps seem you were not the only ones he was relating stories of his employer to last night, or at least not the only ones who heard him, and they did not appreciate the telling. But, of course, if anyone should ask, you did not hear any of this from me.'

Fritha rose and bowed deeply.

'My thanks, Renal.'

The man stood too, taking her hand to dip a bow of his own.

'And my thanks to you, my dear. This news you have brought us will help greatly and I wish you good hunting.'

They shared a smile, both wan and slight with thoughts of troubles yet to come, before he released her and she was off, clattering down the stairs to the anxiously waiting Nalia

xxx

Fritha quickly explained to her friend all Renal had told her as they hurried back to the inn. The girl had visited Isea's Athkatla residence more than once when they were betrothed, and though well-guarded with both men and dogs, she was confident enough of the layout to make what they had planned possible. Time was of the essence though, something not everyone seemed to agree on as they informed the others.

'You would go _now _to try and find this proof? This _very _day?' exclaimed Jaheira, the group sharing wary looks as they found themselves sat once more about a table in common room. Nalia frowned.

'You heard what Renal told Fritha, Barg is dead. That means Isea could already know that someone is aware of his activities. He could be destroying the evidence of his wrongdoing at this very moment. This could be our only chance to expose him!'

'And did _you_ not hear Anomen this morning? We have only three days to infiltrate this group of paladins. They could be performing the most terrible acts!'

'As could Isea! And under the banner of _my_ house!'

The truth of each argument seemed to silence the other and for a moment no one spoke, until Anomen quietly cleared his voice and began.

'Could you not inform the guards of Isea's activities, my lady? They would surely have to investigate if you brought such claims against him.'

Nalia sighed wearily and shook her head.

'Isea is a captain of the Athkatlan militia and a member of one of the most respected noble families in Amn. I am the absconded daughter of a dead lord and have supposedly lost my mind; my word will not stand against his. There is no justice for men such as he in this city. That is why we need evidence of this wrongdoing before we make any claims, that way they cannot be ignored.'

'I-I understand you are upset, Nalia,' reasoned Aerie tentatively, 'but Barg could have been killed by his own crew couldn't he? Fritha said they weren't happy about him telling everyone they were pirates; Isea may not even know about it. And we _have_ already agreed to investigate Anarg…'

'So you would have me merely hope that Isea has not heard of this yet?' snapped Nalia, 'And if he has, Aerie? And if, at this very moment, he is destroying the evidence we need to expose him? Or would you have me sit and do nothing while Isea uses my lands to oppress the very people my father would have had me serve?'

'Well, it isn't my decision anyway…' Aerie mumbled sourly and all seemed to turn slowly to Fritha. The girl looked from the stern face of Jaheira to the equally determined visage of Nalia and sighed deeply.

'We… will do both. Nalia and I will go and find evidence of Isea's criminal activities while the rest of you can continue our infiltration of the paladins.'

A moment of silence, Aerie sending a nervous glance about the table before offering hesitantly, 'U-Uncle Quayle always said if you do two things at once, you'll do neither very well.'

'Oh, shut up, Aerie!' snapped Nalia, more than one person about the table crying her name in admonishment, though she ignored them. Fritha sent her a stern look, her voice firm as she continued.

'It is the only way that I can see to expose both Isea and Anarg.'

'And how do you intend to find the evidence you need, my lady?' asked Anomen and for all her resolve, Fritha had to pause a moment before she confessed, 'Renal has told us that Isea is rumoured to keep all records of such dealings at his Athkatla estate, away from his parents' prying eyes. Nalia has visited there more than once and is confident of the layout and where we might find these documents. We will break-in to his estate and retrieve them.'

'_Break-in_?' Anomen repeated, so stunned it seemed he had forgotten to be angry, 'You are going to _rob_ one of the most highly-regarded noble houses in Athkatla?'

'Anomen, he could be a slaver!' cried Nalia, a hint of desperation creeping into her voice now, 'Do you not think the means to stop him is worth such a minor transgression?'

But the man just shook his head, sitting back in his chair as though physically withdrawing from the conversation, while, at his side, Minsc looked grave.

'Minsc understands that this Isea is doing terrible things, but you are going to his home in the daylight? Surely it is guarded, yes?'

'A guard of ten men and a kennels,' provided Nalia quietly. Minsc shook his head.

'Boo says the risk to young Nalia and Fritha is too high.'

Haer'Dalis nodded thoughtfully.

'Minsc may be right. If you are going to proceed, perhaps I should attend as well, my raven.'

Fritha was rather touched he would volunteer, but Jaheira looked no less than furious by this offer.

'Oh, just what we need, more players taking part in this idiocy! And what use do you think you will be of anyway, bard? As I recall, your skills certainly were not sharp enough when it came to Mekrath,' she snapped, some resentment clearly lingering over his previous manipulations. Haer'Dalis seemed to swell with indignation.

'Well, my frumpy ptarmigan-!'

'Peace, all of you!' snapped Fritha, her nerves at what she knew she was going to have to attempt making her terse. 'We've no more time for discussion. Now, can anyone think of a better way of handling both before it's two late for either?' she demanded, the silence that followed all the answer she needed. 'Exactly.' She sighed again, rising from her chair, 'I should go and prepare. Please excuse me.'

xxx

Fritha stood at her bed, hurriedly pulling things from her bag, weighing each contemplatively in her hand a moment before either pushing it quickly back inside or else throwing it to land neatly on the growing pile of books, bottles and other assorted bits and pieces that would only be an unnecessary burden in the upcoming venture. A cold dread had been churning in her stomach ever since her meeting with Renal, to the point where she felt almost sick with it, the knowledge that the time when she and Nalia must act was drawing ever closer and without any increase in her confidence that it would work _or_ that it was even the right course to follow in the first place.

A soft knock at the door behind her and she glanced back to see Jaheira enter, the woman a lot calmer than she had been downstairs, though there was still a determined set to her jaw; a familiar defiance burning in her eyes and Fritha turned back to her packing as the druid began.

'Fritha, I _must _speak with you about this fool's errand you have planned. Quite apart from the obvious dangers, the paladins know you as our leader, it will look suspicious if you are not present.'

Fritha shook her head.

'I cannot come, Jaheira. Reynald and the others spoke to all of us, I have no special rapport with them. And they will hold Anomen closer being a "failed knight" as they; he can lead things in my absence.'

The woman next to her drew a breath and Fritha could tell she was trying to keep her temper.

'Fritha, I understand you feel strongly about this, but your…' Jaheira paused to find the word, '_loyalty _to Nalia is making you reckless. I know the girl is worried that time is running out, that if you do not expose Isea now, you never will, but you must think of your other responsibilities, Fritha; you s_hould_be accompanying _us_. Anomen has not your skills of deception and the paladins are expecting you. Moreover, you are attempting to break-in to a no doubt well-guarded estate in broad daylight, if you get caught-'

'We won't get caught.'

'_If you get caught_,' continued Jaheira firmly, 'there will be nothing we can do for you; the law is quite clear. Would you be content to rot in prison whilst Imoen is still at the Wizards' mercies?'

'You would stop your search for her?' the girl questioned, though she already knew the answer and so did Jaheira, the woman sending her a frustrated look. Fritha sighed. 'No, I thought not. Besides, it will not come to that.'

'Fritha-!' the druid finally snapped, but Fritha cut her off.

'No! I'm sorry, Jaheira, but I am going! No one else can help Nalia and I cannot desert her at this moment anymore than I could desert Imoen. Now, unless you have something helpful to impart…'

Jaheira stared at her, silent a long while and when she finally spoke her voice was quiet and slightly hoarse.

'Here,' she said, taking a small vial from her pocket to press into her hand, 'a sleeping draft; if you can find a way of feeding it to the guard dogs, you will have and easier time making it through the grounds.'

Fritha looked down at the bottle a moment, the dark green glass bright against her palm before she glanced again to Jaheira, the tiredly resigned look the woman was wearing making the girl feel suddenly tearful.

'I- thank you, Jaheira.'

The woman pulled her into a swift embrace.

'Just come back safely, child.'

'Fritha, are you read-?' came a familiar voice behind her, 'Oh, sorry, I-'

'No, it's fine,' Fritha answered, breaking apart from Jaheira to offer Nalia a wan smile, the girl peering shyly round the door. Fritha turned again to Jaheira, trying to force a brightness to her voice, 'I'll see you back here soon.'

The druid just nodded though and turned away, her look empty.

Just a moment to quickly brief Anomen and the pair were outside, walking the familiar streets towards the bridge, Fritha trying to forget the look Jaheira had given her as they had left. And the memory of the woman's embrace, fierce with worry and frustration, stayed with her longer still.


	41. Best laid plans

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

_Author's note: Apologies for the delay, I don't really have an excuse barring that this chapter was just _not _playing and in the end I just had to admit defeat and leave it for a while. Thanks to everyone who review and messaged (even if it was just to nag ;-), it was all appreciated._

**Best laid plans **

The day was another bright one, the night's rains making for a clear sky, though the air still held a certain sharpness. Anomen hardly noticed it though, the man paying no mind to either the weather or the surrounding bustle as he walked with the others once more over the bridge, but it was not thoughts of this next meeting with Anarg that held his attention.

Nor was he distracted by concerns that there were dark creatures such as vampires ranging freely about the city. Though it had been a disturbing discovery, admittedly, the creatures clearly secure enough in their powers that they were not only unconcerned about being caught, but to the point where they had set up their own guild in rival to one of Athkatla's most powerful groups.

The shrill slam of a window being closed somewhere above him and Anomen glanced up to notice they were just passing the Five Flagons, some of the actors taking a break and enjoying a drink just outside the doors and he felt a twinge as he was reminded once more of the one person he had been trying to forget all morning.

Anomen sighed, averting his gaze until they were well past the place. He had been so angry with Fritha before, the way she had blithely dismissed their concerns, had even tried to _justify_ her recklessness. But, angry as he had been, he had been even more annoyed at himself, for he had wanted to offer to escort the girls the night before but had felt too embarrassed to suggest it. And now the pair were off again, putting themselves into the path of yet _more _danger by attempting to break-in to the estate of one of the most powerful noble families in the city!

Fritha had drawn him aside before she and Nalia had left, the girl informing him that he would now be the voice of the group in her absence and he had prepared himself for the predictable lecture on forgiveness and mercy, only it had not come.

'I understand it is difficult for you, pretending to be a friend to those you feel are traitors, but it is necessary if we are to ascertain their true guilt. And if anything _should_ go wrong, then… then please, Anomen, just do what _you_ think is right, not what anyone else might expect of you. I- I trust you.'

And for a moment Anomen saw them as they had been, the girls stood before the tavern door as they made to leave, both looking small and troubled, and though he knew he should be outraged at their disregard for the law, the feeling was overwhelmed by the sheer dread he felt as he thought of what they were about to undertake.

And the others seemed little happier as they stepped from the bridge and moved off the main street into the muddle of old warehouses. Jaheira was just ahead of him with Minsc, the druid wearing the same frown she had worn since breakfast, while next to her the ranger looked unusually unsettled, the huge man speaking quietly to his hamster and occasionally shaking his great bald head. And behind him, Anomen considered, glancing back to where Aerie and Haer'Dalis were walking, the girl twisting her sleeves anxiously as she chattered quietly to the man at her side, Haer'Dalis calm, but much more solemn than the world normally found him, though whether he was just making the pretence for the group's sake or truly concerned, the squire could not tell.

Anomen shook his head, attempting to push these worries from his mind as they rounded the corner and their destination swung into view, a pair of warriors on guard at the doors of the derelict storehouse that housed their group and it seemed the former knights were taking no chances since Rindus's ambush.

The men hailed them politely as they approached though, one leaving his post to lead them inside, once more into to the cool gloom of the warehouse. Reynald was seated with a few of the others about a huge old table, the group studying what looked to be maps of Athkatla by the light of a single lamp, though they glanced up at their arrival, the paladin smiling broadly as he stood to greet them.

'Anomen, and your companions as well, welcome. You return to us and only a day later; dare I ask as to the progress you have made in the task we asked of you?'

'I am happy to say it has been completed,' Anomen answered politely, his tone carrying none of the warmth or pride his words implied.

'You have the cup?' Reynald exclaimed, his worn face suddenly alight with hope, Anomen nodding once to draw it from his bag and just managing to check his hesitation as he moved to hand it to the man. Reynald beamed, staring with wonder at the chalice he now held, before passing it reverently to the pale young man opposite. 'Here, Gadwulf, place it with the rest of Anarg's belongings. Oh, my friends,' the paladin continued, almost laughing in his exuberance as he turned back to them, 'I can see this alliance was clearly a wise one.'

About them, men were smiling and nodding, though others, Anomen noticed, looked less convinced, the still seated Alve watching them with a contemplative look, his narrowed eyes dark with distrust.

'You came by that very easily. As Reynald said, we only asked you for it yesterday…'

'The Order expect and is prepared for a great assault of arms,' came Jaheira with a readiness well tempered with nonchalance; it would not do to seem too rehearsed in their reasons. 'We were able to use this to our advantage, gaining access to the cup by more… _subtle _methods.'

No one seemed to require any plainer explanation than this, the group about them casting each other knowing looks and Reynald smiled grimly.

'Indeed. Well, please be seated, friends. You seem always to have the misfortune to miss our leader, and Anarg will surely wish to thank you in person. He just an hour ago left with some others of our group, but I expect them back soon enough. Please stay and take ale with us -Alve.'And Reynald stepped aside politely offering his seat to Aerie, the men about him rising to follow suit as Alve filled cups from a rough earthenware pitcher.

'Here,' Reynald beamed, passing a cup to Anomen, his smile fading as he glanced about their group. 'But your numbers are short; where is the young Lady Fritha? And the Lady Nalia is absent as well?'

'Fritha?' Anomen swallowed, ready with the lie the girl had given him before she'd left, though the words seemed to stick in his throat. Traitors or not, he hated dealing in all these falsehoods, Reynald's trust only making it worse, and the last two people he wished to be reminded of just then were Fritha and Nalia, dread creeping over him anew as he thought of the pair. Where were they now? Had they already been caught? Anomen swallowed again, forcing himself to finish.

'It was by Lady Fritha's… _skills_ that we retrieved the cup last night, but she was injured in the process. The Lady Nalia stayed back at the inn also in order to tend her.'

Reynald nodded gravely, something about his eyes darkening.

'That is twice now your group has spilt blood for us; let us toast to her prompt recovery.'

Anomen raised his cup with the others, Fritha's excuse readily accepted by all, and he only hoped her tale of robbery and ruin _remained_ fiction.

xxx

Nalia stood leaning casually against a bronze-leaved sycamore on the tree-lined avenue, every now and then taking a surreptitious glance about before throwing another large cube of meat over the high wall before her and into the kennels she knew were on the other side.

She glanced down to the brown paper wrappings she was holding open in one hand, the dark red meat diced and shining, wet with leftover blood and Jaheira's sleeping draft. It had been an hour or so since they'd left the Coronet, activities of this nature as much about preparation as perpetration though the wait was doing nothing for her nerves, the time only allowing her misgivings for this venture to grow.

Nalia shook herself, angry at these worries. If there was another way they would have taken it, but there was not and she would have to steel herself if she was to see her keep freed from Isea's tyranny. Besides, Fritha would be returning soon from her scouting at the front gates over on the east of the estate and there was no need for her to see this hesitancy.

Nalia pulled a face and tossed the last of the meat over the wall as though that were an end to it, glad she was no longer in her robes as she screwed up the paper wrappings and wiped her hands carelessly on her rough trousers. She and Fritha had stopped briefly at the Five Flagons in order for her to change her clothes. Clambering about of any sort was always easier in breeches and she had an outfit she used on occasions like this, a dark green tunic with brown trousers and hood of the labouring classes, her short auburn hair tied back for the first time since she had joined Fritha's company.

Speaking of which, she considered as the girl herself appeared at the end of the street, strolling towards her looking much the same as she usually did save for the addition of a pale violet woollen scarf that was wound about her neck, ready to be pulled up to conceal her face when the time came.

'Well, the gods must surely be with us on this,' she began by way of greeting, 'because I just watched Isea leave at a furious pace, and taking two of his guards with him as an escort.'

'Isea's left? Do you imagine he has finally heard about Barg?'

Fritha shrugged evenly, glancing to the wall behind them.

'Could be. How are the dogs?'

'Well, I've not heard any barking for a while…' Nalia trailed off, nothing more solid to offer the girl and Fritha shrugged again.

'Come on, we'll just have to risk it.'

And together they followed the wall around the corner back towards the north of the estate. Isea's Athkatla residence was a large square of grounds that was bordered on the south side by the river and enclosed on the other three by high sandstone walls, the large villa set safely within. The stables in the north-western corner of the back wall and were the safest place to enter the compound, not too close to be seen from the river with the general jumble of the yard and the noise of the horses providing ample cover and the girls moved into position before the smooth pale wall.

'Ready?' asked Fritha, carefully arranging her scarf to cover both face and hair. Nalia pulled up her own hood and nodded once.

'Ready.'

Fritha watched as the girl stepped forward and with once last cursory glance about the empty street, ran at the wall before them, leaping up at the last moment to catch the top and pull herself gracefully over to disappear from sight.

Fritha swallowed, waiting for any signs of Nalia's discovery before following suit, the grand sandstone villa and its lush gardens swinging into view before she too dropped inside, her fingers stinging, grazed in her haste clear the wall. Nalia was crouched behind a mounting block, Fritha landing lightly next to her and they watched a stable boy carry a large bucket of grain from the barn into the stall opposite before they broke their cover.

The pair raced from the courtyard, skirting along the back wall and past the kennels where half a dozen hunting dogs were sleeping in the autumn sunshine, Nalia taking a moment to close and secure the gate before they moved on. Nalia knew the best way to get into the house proper would via the roof of the single storey kitchens that extended from the back of the villa. The smell of cooking was growing stronger on the air as they drew closer, as was the sound of voices, and Fritha felt her stomach groan as the pair slipped behind an obliging clump of azaleas.

It was a nice day once out of the sharp breeze and shelter the walls of the estate provided seemed to have tempted the servants into eating their noon meal outside, a long wooden table and benches already set beneath the trees at the kitchen door and surrounded by eight guards and a scattering of servants. Fritha turned to Nalia with a meaningful shrug. Well at least all the guards were accounted for now.

Nalia frowned slightly but gestured for her to follow all the same, and they carried on, quickly moving between bushes and trees in the verdant grounds and finally through the kitchen gardens, pair concealed behind the tall frames of green beans as they ran. They were well past the table, and kitchens too, by now and almost at the southern end of the estate when they doubled round, approaching the low building from the opposite side, the sounds of the staff at lunch worryingly loud as they clambered up onto the kitchen roof.

From there it was only a short climb onto the adjacent roof, the warm terracotta tiles of the covered walkway that surrounded the ground floor of the villa and allowed for enjoyment of the gardens even when the weather was less than favourable. They were on the house proper now, the roof leading neatly up to the outer wall of the first floor and what Nalia had been heading for all this time, the roof providing a convenient access to a line of green shuttered windows.

Nalia moved up to the wall, Fritha hanging back slightly as the girl reached up, a pick poised to slip between the shutters and lift the catch inside, when there was a rustle within and suddenly they were swinging open of their own accord. Nalia flattened herself to the wall beneath the sill and, with little other cover to avail herself of, Fritha flung herself flat to the tiles, the undulating surface catching her painfully across the ribs. The elderly servant at the window noticed neither of them though, humming blithely as she moved along the hall the next pair, and it was not until all four sets of shutters were open and the stout old woman had bustled off that Fritha dared to move again. Carefully, she peeled herself from the tiles and crept up to Nalia, the girl glancing around the frame before disappearing through the open window and Fritha followed her into the cool gloom of the hallway.

'Here, this way,' Nalia whispered, beckoning her along the hall and they rounded the corner to find themselves in another much shorter corridor, a large polished oak door set at the end. A moment to pick the lock and they were inside and Fritha was gazing about a small if opulent room, all dark wooden furniture and rich tapestries.

Nalia had already moved to begin searching the huge polished desk and Fritha joined her, rifling quickly through the letters and ledgers she found, though there was nothing incriminating that she could see.

'It's no good, all this looks fine to me. What are you doing?' she asked as Nalia ignored the papers, instead sweeping pale fingers lightly under draws and between shelves until-

Fritha felt a smile pulling at her mouth as, with the slightest click, a narrow drawer no thicker than her hand sprang open lengthwise from the intricate beading between two small cabinets

'How did you know…' she breathed and Nalia smiled at her wonder.

'Desks with such compartments are not uncommon amongst us _secret-hording nobles_. My father had one similar; he used to keep my mother's old love letters in there from when they were courting. Here,' Nalia continued, passing a ledger to her as she herself began to sort through a bound sheaf of official-looking documents. Fritha opened the slim blue book, letting her eyes run down the double-columned pages, just two rows of neatly entered numbers and giving the appearance of any well kept accounts' ledger, except…

'Here, look at his,' Fritha began, showing a page to the girl next to her, 'Four diamonds (un-cut), six hundred gold pieces. Seven bloodstones (polished), two hundred and sixty gold pieces. Five grade-one pearls,only _one hundred and_ _ninety_ gold pieces! These are well below the market values. Nalia,' she breathed excitedly, 'I think Isea is accounting these gems at prices below what he no doubt paid for them to avoid paying the import tax. He's smuggling! Nalia, we've got him! What have you found?'

Nalia shrugged, sorting through the papers in her hands.

'A bill for some clothes and equipment, some letters of transit, oh-' she paused, drawing a paper out to study it more closely. 'A running schedule from a recent slave auction in Calimport…' She trailed off her face frozen and Fritha was almost afraid to ask.

'What is it?'

'Look!' she ordered, thrusting the papers at her, 'Look at the names! Carric of Moonshea for sale in the auction of the seventeenth. And here, on the papers of transit. Carric Sheal, moved from Calimshan to Amn to serve as a stablehand at- at _de'Arnise Keep_! And he is not the only one,' Nalia cried, the girl literally trembling with anger, 'Marim Helioc, Parid Hessen. Isea is- he- he's actually using the keep to _traffic slaves_!'

Fritha nodded once; this was_ surely_ all the evidence they needed.

'Come on, we-'

She stopped, her heart in her throat as she heard the click of the door behind them, Fritha whirling to see the elderly housekeeper whom they had almost run into before come marching into the room, duster in hand and still humming merrily though she stopped abruptly as she saw them. Her eyes grew wide, the two sides watching each other in silence a moment before the woman was suddenly screaming shrilly, Fritha leaping forward to grab her arm and shut the door.

'Please be quiet! We're not going to hurt you!'

But the woman seemed not to have heard her, just stood, her hands held up as through to protect herself from the blows she expected to begin raining down on her at any moment and screaming hysterically all the while. Before she knew it, Fritha had drawn her sword and pushed the woman back onto the sofa behind her, much more roughly than she'd intended in her panic.

'Shut up! Shut up now or I'll silence you for good!'

This had the desired effect and the woman's cries ebbed to a quiet sobbing. Fritha quickly sheathed her sword, taking the key still clutched in the woman's hand as she turned back to Nalia.

'Got everything?'

The girl nodded, patting her bag and Fritha tried to quell the feelings of guilt as she turned back to the still crying housekeeper.

'Please calm down, madam, we're not here to hurt you or anyone else.'

But the old woman did not even lift her face from her hands and Fritha gave up, crossing to Nalia and the pair left, locking the door behind them.

Outside the hall was still empty though that seemed about to change, the sound of the servants drifting along the corridor.

'Here, did you hear screaming?'

'Aye, old Ethellen. It sounded like it was from the east wing.'

Footsteps were approaching and Fritha shot Nalia an alarmed glance, the girl flying to the nearest window and soon they were on the walkway roof once more. Nalia did not head south towards the kitchens though, sliding carefully down to the edge of the roof and lowering herself off to drop carefully down to the ground, Fritha following in a much less graceful manner. As luck had it, the noise had drawn everyone from the table outside the kitchens, and they raced past without a care for cover, flying across the grounds to the kennels opposite, a clamour of barking from the now awakened dogs filling the air as they scrambled over the back wall.

Nalia dropped neatly into the avenue beyond, and pain screamed through her ankle as Fritha landed awkwardly beside her.

A-Are you hurt? Nalia panted, looking stricken by the idea their escape was to fail at this final hurdle.

'No, no, just a jolt, come on,' Fritha gasped, clumsily shaking off the pain as she straightened and, in but a moment, the estate streets behind them.

xxx

Anomen watched the group about him, all seated up and down that long battered table as they took a meal together. It seemed Anarg's business was keeping him longer than Reynald had anticipated and the paladin had insisted they stay for lunch, which had proved to be a good opportunity for strengthening their alliance with the men. Jaheira, Haer'Dalis and Aerie were working well, all talking blithely with their hosts and only Minsc remained in ill-humour, the ranger sat at the end of the table sending a worried frown to his plate and not speaking unless spoken to.

Anomen pulled his attention back to the man opposite, Reynald leaning over to kindly refill Aerie's cup, the girl dipping her face shyly as she thanked him and the squire stifled a sigh, fighting the urge to drop his head into his hands and block out the noise of them all for just a few meagre moments.

He could not believe Anarg or indeed Reynald for that matter had been cast from the Order in error. And yet this man before him, this man who radiated such goodness, now followed Anarg, a man accused of the most terrible of crimes… It just did not make sense! Anomen drew a deep breath, unable to shake the fear now festering in his heart that perhaps Anarg was not quite as black as the Order had been content to paint him.

'More bread, Anomen?' came a voice next to him and he turned to see the tow-headed Gadwulf offering up a trencher of the heavy rye bread. Anomen shook his head as he made to rise, suddenly desperate for just a few moments alone to gather his thoughts.

'I thank you, no, I-I feel a touch warm. Perhaps some fresh air would help. If you would excuse me.'

The two men were still on guard at the doors outside and Anomen moved a short distance from them, just around the corner where he felt safe to draw a deep tired breath and lean heavily back against the warehouse wall to watch the sky, a calming arc of blue above him.

What was he going to do? What would the _Order_ expect him to do?

'_Just do what _you_ think it right…_' came Fritha's voice again behind his eyes and he almost felt like screaming. How easy it was for her to say such things! She who never seemed to doubt her path for an instant. But then…

She did not doubt _him_ either. Fritha had said as much before she'd left and somehow the thought was a heartening one. And difficult though the situation was, it could not be denied that the day was going well so far, even Alve and a few of the other more reserved men relaxing over the course of the meal. Anomen exhaled deeply and felt his worries subside a little.

Fritha would be back for their next meeting (the alternative something he was refusing to even contemplate), and together they could use the two days they'd remaining to find the truth in all this confusion and decide what was to be done.  
Yes, it would all come right, he was sure of it.

'Anomen?' came a voice and the squire jumped, whirling to find Reynald at his side, the paladin clearly trying to hide his smile though the shine to his eyes gave him away. 'Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you. You are feeling better I hope?'

'Yes, thank you,' Anomen answered curtly, trying to quell his temper at the man's apparent amusement, though Reynald just smiled mildly at his tone.

Good, that is good,' he sighed, making no move to return to the others and instead leaning back against the wall next to him, gaze upon the sky as his had been and silence held them until-

'So, the Lady Fritha was injured… is she badly hurt?'

'Sorry?' Anomen questioned, confused a moment before he remembered himself, 'Oh, no, not badly.'

Reynald sent him a measured look.

'But enough to have worried you, yes?' He smiled, his tone sympathetic, almost paternal, 'It is written plain on your face, my friend.'

The smile faded, the man turning back to the sky, a certain solemnity softening his voice as he continued. 'You are fortunate to have been free to choose in this matter, not all are so blessed in this city where such things are viewed in terms of alliance rather than affection… That was my transgression. My family arranged my marriage for me when I was barely twenty years and I met my wife only a handful of times before we were wed. I respected the lady, but there was no affection there, not from either party-'

'Sir, I fear you misunderstand me. Fritha and I, well-'

Anomen paused. Misunderstanding or not, it was certainly a good way of explaining his behaviour and he had no other excuse ready to offer the man… 'I- ah, nothing has been spoken of yet. The lady… she is not aware…'

Reynald smiled, the paternal air about him once more as he clapped him heartily on the back.

'Fear not, I will not be the one to break your silence. You will find the moment to tell her, in time.'

Anomen forced a wan smile, feeling unpleasantly hot.

'I, well, thank you, sir… What happened with you and, well…'

Reynald sighed and nodded.

'Ah, yes. A couple of years ago I met a young lady whose family were patrons of my church and for her I developed a deep regard. After months of denying our feelings, I left my wife, well provided for I might add, and took up residence with my beloved, Celestine. My Lord-God Lathander knew of my previous unhappiness in marriage and forgave my transgression, but in the eyes of the Amnian courts I had broken the law and in doing so broken the vows I took when I joined the Order as a knight. I was cast out, disgraced, and my poor Celestine was no better off, her father publicly disowning her to all of Athkatla. She had always been close to her family, especially her mother and sisters, and in the end it became too much for her to bear. She left me and returned to them but a few months later, upon which her father sent her to live with relatives outside the city, away from her _misdeeds_.' Reynald sighed, his look broken, before he shook himself and his voice returned to its previous optimism. 'Still, that is all past now, and I must serve Athkatla in another way under Anarg.'

So there it was, the crime that had seen a good man cast from the Order's exalted ranks and though he did not disagree with the expulsion, Anomen could not help but feel for Reynald. The noble houses traditionally held much influence over their younger members, with the power to crush many young hopes under the banner of 'It's for the best.' Anomen was keenly aware of how his own father had ruined his chance of becoming a paladin and here was another man, the course of his life unrecognisably altered because of similar severities in his past.

That Reynald had told him something so personal showed he obviously trusted him deeply, and it took all Anomen's will to continue; his dislike of this charade growing more by the moment, but at the same time very aware that a better opportunity may not arise.

'Yes, Anarg… it is strange that I have heard so much of the man and have yet to meet him. Do you know why he was cast out?'

Reynald shook his head sternly.

'No, and such a question is not asked lightly around here. But his contrition for his crime, whatever it was, is genuine and I am not in a place to judge him. That he serves Athkatla and his god are all that anyone should need to know.'

Anomen paused a moment, hoping he imagined the slight stress on 'anyone' as he continued.

'Yes… and how does he serve Athkatla? I know that you and your group aims to reclaim this district back from the likes of Rindus and his ilk, but what does Anarg do when he is elsewhere? Is he recruiting others to your service? Looking for allies perhaps?'

'Sometimes, yes,' Reynald agreed, suddenly rather flustered, 'I do not know his every move; I am not his keeper. At what are you driving, Anomen?'

Anomen cast about for an answer but was saved the trouble.

'Sorry to interrupt, sir,' came a voice behind them, both men turning to see one of the door guards, 'but Anarg has arrived back.'

'Ah, good,' said Reynald, smiling again and seemingly glad of the interruption, 'You will at last get your deserved recognition, eh, Anomen?'

Anomen merely nodded, straightening to follow the men inside though the atmosphere could not have been more different to the warm camaraderie he had left. Everyone was on their feet, Jaheira and the others stood with the former knights, wary behind their apparent ease, everyone scattered in an uneven half circle about a tall dark-haired man, his handsome face split in a wide smile as he examined the ornate gold chalice in his hands.

'Anarg, welcome back,' greeted Reynald, stepping forward to exchange a brief salute. Anarg smiled, letting his eyes flick to the man he had left and Anomen felt himself tense under the cold gaze.

'So these are the allies you were speaking of, Reynald.'

The paladin beamed. 'Yes, indeed, this is-'

'Anomen Delryn,' finished Anarg curtly, barely sparing Reynald a glance as he took a step towards the squire. 'Yes, I had heard you were amongst our new _friends_. So you and your group infiltrated the Order's compound last night to retrieve my cup for me, eh?'

Anomen swallowed. Anarg's manner, his very tone, was contemplative and measured, all indicating that his question was leading somewhere but what other answer could he give? The squire nodded stiffly.

'That is so.'

Anarg's face broke into an unpleasant smile.

'You lie. I have ears still within the Order. Ryan Trawl gave them the cup, just as he gave them this task to infiltrate our group and murder us all!'

The room about them suddenly erupted, all angry murmuring and dark looks, some men even readying weapons, Reynald's face a horrified mask as he turned to him, the young man he had taken so blithely into his confidence and Anomen felt his stomach twist in guilt.

Anarg looked coldly smug as Reynald drew his sword and it took all his will for Anomen not to draw his own weapon, knowing it would only make things worse as he tried to calm the man.

'You misunderstand, Reynald! We were sent to infiltrate this group, yes, but that is all! There were rumours of wrongdoing, that you were using the name of the Order to slave and extort and we were sent to investigate, but no more than that. The Order would have never asked us to perform such cold-blooded murder and Fritha _never_ would have agreed to do so.'

'More lies!' snarled Anarg, turning to the men about them, 'You know how the Order reviles us! They were sent here for our heads, no less.'

'No! That isn't true!' cried Aerie, backing closer to Minsc as she raised her staff, the ranger drawing his sword with a menacing look while Haer'Dalis spoke up.

'Consider it, my hounds. Had we wished an end to you, we could have left the thief, Rindus at his work. Or joined him in the ride. With such an advantage you would have surely all met with oblivion and we could have merely waited here for Anarg's return to pen the rest of you in the Deadbook.'

Reynald lowered his blade slightly, casting a glance to the warrior next to him.

'They are correct, Anarg. We would have fallen had they not fought with us. So,' he continued, his disappointment clear as he turned back to Anomen, 'you were sent here to ally yourselves with us? And what, pray tell, did you discover?'

Anomen glanced to Jaheira, the druid nodding imperceptibly.

'That you, Reynald and others here are as you say: good men working for the benefit of all. But others…' His eyes flicked instinctively to Anarg. There seemed little point in subtlety now. 'But of others I am less sure. Do you know where Anarg goes about the city? What he does? Reynald, he is not like you, he was cast from the Order for slavery!'

'What? What nonsense is this?' shouted Reynald, his face now flushed in his anger, 'He is a paladin! No just god would overlook such a crime!'

'Indeed, they would not,' agreed Jaheira evenly, stepping forward as she spoke and Anomen could not fail to notice how she was now in a far more favourable position should a fight break out. 'So we must ask, is Anarg still a paladin? The powers that prove such could be gained from many places, is that not so, Aerie?'

The elf nodded, nervous but resolute as she stepped forward as well.

'Well, y-yes, some types of magic, even dark gods could-'

'Enough!' came a shout, but it was not Reynald this time, the youth Alve pushing forward from his fellows to stand next to his mentor, 'I will hear no more of these lies. You are clearly just pawns sent by the Order to sow discord in our group. Reynald's word is enough for any man here, if he trusts Anarg then-'

'Calm yourself, Alve,' cut in Reynald, his voice quiet but firm, the paladin turning slowly back to their group. 'As for you, your words are slanderous, but I see the intent behind them is good, albeit misguided- go, we will not raise our blades against you.'

The muttering that had quietened as the paladin spoke suddenly filled the air again, Anarg's voice ringing clear above it all.

'Won't we now? You believe this nonsense about them only being here to investigate us, Reynald?'

The paladin nodded gravely.

'Yes, their reputations hold that they are honourable… you have heard of their works about the city, the destruction of the Beholder Cult, the killing of the Bridge Murderer. Some of them were even part of that group who averted the war. They are good people who believed they were acting for the best and made a mistake, just as many here once did.'

More muttering, some clearly dissenting though Anomen was relieved to see just as many men nodding evenly. Anarg was not among them.

'If we let them leave here, they will merely continue this campaign against us!'

'Anarg, my brother, if all they and the Order intend is to investigate us, then where is the harm? We have nothing to hide.'

But Anarg seemed to ignore this, saying only, 'So you would side with them against me, Reynald?'

Reynald watched him in silence for a long time, before slowly shaking his head, though it did not seem to be merely at his question but at Anarg himself.

'No, Anarg, I side with my own conscious, just as every man here should.'

Anarg snorted humourlessly, his eyes hard.

'I always knew you were a fool, Reynald. You still stand with them? Then you can fall with them too!'

In a moment, his sword was drawn and swinging out at Anomen, the squire freeing his own weapon just in time to parry it as chaos erupted around them, friend fighting friend as sides were instantly taken, his own companions in the thick of it.

Anomen parried the next blow and the next, feeling vulnerable without the cover of his shield, the heirloom still under the table where he had placed with his bag whilst they'd eaten.

Reynald was stood behind them, still yet to attack anyone and Anomen wondered briefly whether his respect for his leader had stayed his blade when suddenly the paladins voice cried out, sword held aloft just as he had during the fight with Rindus and for a moment light engulfed the room. Men's screams filled the air and Anarg recoiled, the man resolute and hated-filled even in his pain.

'You!' he spat, his sword held in a hanging guard as he backed away a step from the squire, 'Bane take you for this, Helmite!'

Anomen was anticipating Anarg to swing down at him and the bolt of dark energy was unexpected, the spell hitting him square in the chest before he'd even a chance to dodge, and suddenly he was sprawled on his back, Anarg above him, his sword high.

'And the Black Hand strikes you down!' he roared, his scream of rage swelling to one of agony as a blade suddenly spitted his stomach, the man keeling over to reveal Reynald, the paladin's face a stoic mask.

The sword withdrawn, Anarg fell like a stone next to him, the crash his armour made as it hit the stone tiles echoing about the warehouse only to fade to a deathly quiet, the silence broken only by the groans of the wounded. Aerie and Jaheira moved instantly to help them, all Haer'Dalis's efforts going into calming down the still enraged Minsc and Anomen heaved himself into a sitting position.

His chest was aching from the blow and he felt his muscles scream in protest as Alve reached down a hand to help him to his feet. Reynald was stood next to them, his sword now sheathed, the man gazing about the warehouse with a wistful look, as one considering what might have been housed there, before his gaze fell on the body beneath them.

'So, it seems you were correct all along, my friends, Anarg was a blackguard of the vilest sort and we were a party to his crimes. Gods know what evils I helped him in.' He shook his head, sighing deeply as he turned to face them. 'Well, justice must be served and you may take me back to the Order face it, I will not resist you.'

'No, Reynald!' cried Alve, but Reynald held up a hand, forestalling his protests.

'Quiet now, Alve, I led you all in this, as your commander it is my duty to take responsibility for it.'

'No, Reynald,' came another voice and Anomen was surprised to discover it had been his own.

'No?' the paladin repeated, 'No trial? No retribution? In aiding Anarg we have broken the law, however unwittingly.'

'Yes, you have, but-' Anomen paused. They _had_ broken the law and as a representative of the Order, he was there to see that justice be done. But at the same time, it did not seem right that these men be punished any more for what had transpired there. Anomen swallowed. 'You have broken the law, yes, but the law is administered by men and men are biased. With the hatred of Anarg and the crimes he committed still high in people's minds, I do not think the courts here will believe you acted in ignorance. They would likely find you guilty for far worse than trusting a man who proved false. No,' he continued firmly, his decision made, 'I will inform the Knight Commander of what has transpired here… and that we allowed you to go free.'

For a moment, there was silence, Reynald and the other men looking no less than astounded while his own companions shared dark looks. But Anomen understood what he was risking and, it seemed, Reynald realised it too.

'Anomen, the Order-'

'Were tricked by Anarg long before you were.' Anomen smiled slightly, 'perhaps they will be inclined to be sympathetic.'

Though whether he was hoping for such mercy for himself or Reynald remained unspoken. But the paladin seemed to understand anyway, stepping forward to shake his hand and sweeping his other arm wide as though to include them all in the gesture.

'I thank you, my friends, for your compassion. Are you all well enough to travel?' he asked of the room, a rumble of grim assent answering him. 'Then come, brothers, collect your belongings; we leave the city now. We will seek atonement on the road.'

'But what of the fallen?' asked one of the men, glancing up from where he was crouched next to the body of a pale blond man and Anomen felt a stab as he recognised the youth, Gadwulf.

'You may leave them here,' assured Jaheira gravely, helping a man with a bandaged leg to stand, 'we will ensure a proper burial for all.'

A glance to Reynald who confirmed this with a nod, and the man rose to leave, his companions following suit, and Anomen watched as the group about them scattered, slowly moving off into the back of the warehouse to pack up their things. He turned back to the body beneath him, Anarg lying just as he had fallen, the look of surprise still on his face, the cup he had dropped as the fighting broke out almost hidden beneath him and covered in his blood. Anomen stooped for it, the chalice that had looked so stately and noble before, now somehow gaudy when held up to the grim carnage of their surroundings. At his shoulder came Jaheira's voice, understanding but firm.

'Come, Anomen, we should return to the inn.'

Anomen sighed as he straightened, wiping the chalice on his sleeve.

'You go. I must return the cup to the Order, I- I must report to Sir Ryan Trawl what happened here.'

She stared at him a moment and he could see her trying to form some words of consolation for him. But none seemed to come to her and in the end she just nodded and turned to usher the others out, leaving him stood alone in the gloom.

xxx

Fritha let half-closed eyes travel the same four plain tiled walls she had been watching for hours now, the small room lit only by the heavy bronze lantern that hung from the stone ceiling above them.

Still, it was better than a jail cell, she considered practically, her eyes dropping back to the huge stone bath she was sat in, Nalia opposite her, the girl sat as she was, the shimmering water just skimming the pale swell of her breasts, dark red hair damp and plastered to her speckled neck.

Fritha sent her a faint smile, which was returned, before she let her gaze travel over the rest of the room. A low bench, towels and their clothes folded neatly atop it, and a stone brazier that ran the length of the bath the only other things in there and Fritha watched the coals a moment, their glow reflecting vividly in the water.

They had left for the Council Buildings as soon as they'd escaped Isea's, bundling up the documents and enlisting one of the local children to pass them to a clerk who was to give them to Magistrate Ianulin, all anonymously. Even by that time, news of the break-in was sweeping across the city like a plague and it seemed like a good a idea to keep low for a while, moments later finding them in a private room in the district's local bathhouse; a pleasant if serviceable building that was actually devoted to its nature, unlike the bathhouses in the Slums, the majority of which were glorified brothels.

Fritha shifted slightly, the warm water rippling about her and she watched her hair billow and swirl just under the surface like some sort of exotic seaweed. They had stayed in the bathhouse for the rest of the day, hardly talking and just sat in the water, each mulling over their own thoughts as the hours crept by. Fritha sighed, glancing over to where Nalia was sat, unable to miss the gooseflesh bristling on her smooth freckled shoulders.

'Are you cold?'

The girl nodded vaguely, sinking lower in the pool and Fritha leaned over to ladle another cup of water over the coals, the air hissing as steam engulfed them once more. Fritha looked up, watching the golden shimmer of the vapours as they hung about the lantern, imagining the darkening city above them.

'Do you think Bylanna has the documents by now?'

Nalia's shrug sent a tide of ripples across the water.

'I don't know. Even if she has, the courts here work slowly. It could be days before Isea is investigated, if he is at all; he has some powerful friends. But if he is formally accused then they will have to try him, the law is quite strict in that respect, noble or not.'

Fritha swallowed, glad for her veil of steam as she asked the inevitable question.

'And what will happen to your keep?'

Nalia glanced up sharply, their eyes meeting across the water before she turned away, her look almost guilty.

'Well, Isea's rights to inherit my home stemmed from it being my dowry and he was allowed to keep it under the terms of the marriage contract as I refused to honour the betrothal and at such a late stage in the proceedings. My father and his parents both knew I did not like Isea, I suppose they had the clause written in because they worried I would become more reluctant as the marriage drew closer; it was certainly a very effective way of keeping me committed. However, among noble houses such contracts are undertaken with unspoken assurances of certain things, such as, oh, I don't know, noble lineage, no hidden debts-'

'And Isea not being a slaver.'

Nalia smiled slightly.

'That would be one of them, yes. It could be argued that he signed under false pretences, which would void the agreement. That being the case, the keep would return to de'Arnise rule,' Nalia glanced to her, her face a mask in the gloom, 'namely, mine.'

Fritha felt as though something had struck her, heavy and deep inside her chest and it took her a moment to draw enough breath for the reply.

'Oh, well, that- that would be good, wouldn't it?'

'But, I mean, Isea hasn't even been accused yet,' Nalia continued quickly, clearly worried by her tone and leaving her seat to swim across to her, the hand she placed on her arm feeling strange under the water. 'And even if he is found guilty, the case would have to be argued before the magistrate and I doubt the Roenalls would let the place go without a fight. The keep is really no closer to me than it was yesterday.'

Nalia smiled reassuringly and Fritha nodded, returning the gesture and they stayed so a moment or two before they both turned away again. Nalia could say what she wished, but it was not true and they both knew it.

'Come on,' Fritha sighed eventually, water sloshing noisily over the tiled floor as she rose to throw a towel about her shoulders, 'if it's not safe to leave now, it never will be.'

Outside the dusk was deepening just as Fritha had imagined, the shadows lengthening as a deep indigo stain crept slowly across from the eastern skies. The air was cold, especially after the humid heat of the baths and they made a brisk pace back to the slums, both shivering under their cloaks, her damp hair making Fritha's head ache. There seemed to be more guards about than usual, patrolling the emptying streets in groups and pairs, Fritha forcing herself to pass them unshrinking, as one who had nothing to hide, and it felt like an age before they were standing before the Coronet once more, the windows aglow with a warm welcoming light.

Fritha pushed open the door and it did not take long to find them, even in the usual throng of patrons, four drawn faces looking up at the slam of the door and Minsc was on his feet before they'd even reached their table, pulling her and then Nalia into a ferocious embrace.

'Oh, young ones, you have returned! Boo has been so very worried!'

'Hush, Minsc,' warned Jaheira quietly, though she looked no less relieved to see them, Anomen scrubbing a hand weakly over his pale face, while Aerie set two cups before them as they sat, pouring them some ale and chattering quietly all the while.

'We were so worried you'd been caught, you've been hours!'

Fritha sent her an apologetic look.

'Sorry, we thought it best to lay low for a while afterwards. The nearby bathhouse seemed as good a place as any.' She smiled faintly, holding up a hand of shrivelled fingers and Aerie giggled nervously.

'Haer'Dalis has gone out to get more news of the burglary. Half the guards in the city are supposedly assigned to it and they've been putting these up all around the city.' A pause as the elf held up a large square of parchment with the words "Wanted Notice" printed at the top in large bold letters, the rest covered by two columns in a small neat hand, 'though Isea is apparently very reluctant to let anyone onto his estate.'

'I'll bet he is,' Fritha muttered darkly into her cup, Aerie nodding as she continued.

'He is saying the robbers were discovered and fled empty-handed. Though we didn't quite know what to believe, the only witness claimed it was carried out by a human woman and a half-elven youth of,' Aerie glanced again to the parchment she held, '_most violent character_.'

Fritha sighed wearily.

'Yes, that sounds like us. And no, we certainly were _not _empty-handed.'

'So it all went without a hitch,' confirmed Jaheira and Fritha shrugged.

'Yes, mostly,' she agreed, her guilt resurfacing as she saw the housekeeper again behind her eyes, terrified and sobbing; well, at least she had been unable to identify them. 'We had what proof we found sent to Magistrate Ianulin anonymously. Now all we can do is wait.'

Fritha glanced to Nalia, the girl holding her gaze a moment, tired and pensive, before dropping her eyes back to her cup and Fritha had to ignore the dull twinge of melancholy as she returned her attention to the table.

'So how went the meeting with the fallen knights? Was Anarg pleased to get his cup… back…'

Fritha trailed off, a palpable gloom descending over the group at her words, Jaheira and Aerie sharing an unreadable look as Anomen glanced up to answer her.

'Anarg was very pleased with his cup, though unfortunately less satisfied with our alliance. He knew the Order had sent us and a fight broke out.'

Fritha drew a sharp breath.

'You mean they… they're all dead?'

'Come, my lady,' he scolded with a weary amusement, 'had they all risen against us we would not be here now. No, once Anarg showed himself as the blackguard he was, Reynald and some of the others sided with us.'

'And then?'

Anomen's eyes darkened and after a moment, Jaheira answered for him.

'We let them go. Though not before we had agreed to ensure a decent burial for the fallen; the priests of Illmater happy to oblige us for a donation of two hundred gold to the temple.'

Fritha nodded. She would not have cared even had they asked double for such a task, the girl turning wordlessly back to Anomen.

'And I returned the cup to the Order,' the squire sighed, placing a small leather purse on the table and pushing it towards her, 'There, our payment. I informed Sir Ryan of what occurred. He said he was glad that Anarg had been dealt with and that he understood my reasoning over Reynald, though it was not an acceptance he bore with any air of approval … Still, he told me he expects my test will be very soon, so I have obviously done _something_ to distinguish myself.'

He snorted humourlessly and Fritha could tell he did not think this recognition was for something, in any way, good. She sighed, feeling her guilt anew. She should have been there, not that the situation would have likely unfolded any differently, but then at least it would have spared Anomen from having to choose between his heart and his dreams of joining the Order.

'Well, if the words of a thief still hold any value for you, _I_ think you did the right thing.'

Anomen stared at her a long while, his eyes dark and contemplative before he seemed to remember himself. He smiled wanly but said nothing.

'So what do you have planned for tomorrow?' asked Jaheira, breaking the silence and Fritha sighed again, leaning back in her chair. If she was honest, she wanted nothing more than to leave that city and never look back, but she settled for the next best thing.

'I think Trademeet's beckoning, don't you?'


	42. Over the hills

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do at my last check. Lucky them. Nor do I own '_Comes a Train of Little Ladies'_ by W.S.Gilbert, or _'She Walks in Beauty'_ by Lord Byron.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

-Blackcross & Taylor

**Over the hills…**

The sun had barely cleared the horizon when Anomen found himself outside the Coronet and once more preparing to depart the city. Last night, the decision to leave early had been unanimous, no one, it seemed, keen on remaining in Athkatla after what had transpired there the previous day.

Anomen adjusted the pack at his back, Minsc and Haer'Dalis talking quietly behind him as they waited for Jaheira and Aerie to join them, Nalia and Fritha having left earlier to replenish the group's supplies, though they should have returned by now.

Anomen felt a familiar worry stir within him, but quelled it instantly. Had anyone realised it was the girls who had been involved in yesterday's burglary, which had half the noble families in Athkatla in such an uproar, the guards surely would have arrived to arrest the pair straightaway.

Still, the girls had left with the dawn and it wasn't as though the promenade would be busy at that time of the morning; even some of the merchants would not have arrived yet.

'Where are young Fritha and Nalia?' questioned Minsc behind him, giving a voice to his thoughts and Anomen turned back to the men to watch the bard send the ranger a reassuring smile.

'Fret not, Minsc, I cannot believe the girls have come to any harm.'

Anomen bit back a comment about 'vampires and slavers' with some difficultly.

'They have only gone to the promenade, after-' the bard stopped suddenly, his head tilted slightly as though straining to hear something. 'And, hark, our worries were unfounded all this while!'

Anomen frowned; the slums around them were silent save for the trill of bird song and the creak of the surrounding buildings as the sun warmed the timbers. But Haer'Dalis, it seemed, thought differently.

'Come, my hounds, this way.'

And the bard led them around the corner of the inn, Anomen glancing up to see Fritha and Nalia sat on the wooden walkway that led to roofs above the inn, talking brightly as they enjoyed the last of the autumn sunshine, their feet dangling over the street below. Nalia noticed them first, leaning in to whisper at Fritha's ear, the girl glancing to them as well, both laughing behind their hands and Anomen wondered just what the joke was, though he was not left in doubt for long, their high voices breaking into song.

'_Comes a train of little ladies, from scholastic trammels free_…'

'Oh, very amusing, my raven. I cannot speak for my companions, but my _scholastic _trammels were over long ago,' came Haer'Dalis as he arrived beneath them, stretching up and playfully tugging on Fritha's sandaled foot, the girl laughing delightedly as she pulled it out of reach. Anomen frowned, cross at how quickly yesterday seemed to have been forgotten by some. 'So why are you two perched up there?'

Nalia glanced to Fritha who shrugged, the young noblewoman turning mildly back to them.

'We took breakfast at the promenade, so there seemed little point in going back inside the Coronet and the view up here is quite breathtaking; you can see all the way to the sea if you stand. Besides, if you had left the inn by the southern doors you would have seen us straight away.'

Haer'Dalis shrugged, coolly indifferent.

'As you say, but you had the good ranger here quite worried.'

Fritha's smile faded instantly. 'Oh, sorry, Minsc, I didn't think…'

A silence fell over them as her voice trailed off. Anomen sighed, stepping into change the subject. 'So, how was the promenade?'

'Fine,' asked Fritha promptly as though glad to be moving on, 'They have finally finished the repairs to the arena after Irenicus, well… the steps have been rebuilt and the tower has a new copper dome- you'd been hard pressed to tell it had ever been damaged now.'

'And you found all the supplies we required for the journey?'

Fritha and Nalia suddenly shared a smile and Anomen could not fail to notice the tiefling join them in the gesture.

'Oh, yes, everything and then some. We-' Fritha stopped, glancing up and waving at something behind them. 'Ah, here come Jaheira and Aerie; I suppose it's time we were away. Minsc?' she began, edging forward with her arms outstretched and Minsc beamed, instinctively stepping up as she dropped from the walkway, the man catching her neatly under the arms and setting her gently down next to him as Nalia clattered down the steps. Anomen had noticed the ranger had been watching the girls more closely since the previous evening, Fritha especially. But then, if Anomen was honest, so had he…

He frowned, turning away and half wishing he could go back to a few days ago when all his worries were a few dreams, personal and insular. Now everything felt so much larger, as though the world had suddenly grown from the narrow sphere he had been so familiar with, people whom he had thought to know quite well, suddenly strangers to him… His eyes fell again upon Fritha as the group set off, the girl leading the way with Nalia and smiling at something the young woman had said. He never would have guessed it and yet…

xxx

Fritha sighed contentedly, the air about her pleasantly cool and even the slight ache that was still lingering in her ankle (a memento of their hasty escape from Isea's estate) could not mar her good mood as they made their way to Trademeet, leaving all the troubles of the last few days behind them.

Nalia had been at her side for most of the day, the journey full of talk and laughter and even when they were not speaking, it was nice to just have her there at her arm to share smiles and enjoy the comfort her mere presence brought. Nalia seemed fine for all Fritha's previous worries about the worsening weather for travelling and the girl's sudden discovery that her home might not have been quite as lost to her as anyone had first thought. Perhaps it was just as Nalia had said, regaining the keep far from her immediate concerns; just something she was keeping in mind for the future, distant as a dream.

The girl was walking ahead of her now, talking to Aerie and subtly making sure the elf was still unaware of their plans for her upcoming birthday. Fritha watched them with a smile, content to hang back and enjoying their bright chatter from a distance, when she felt a presence approaching and glanced up just as the squire reached her side.

'Hello Anomen,' she greeted mildly, the man nodding once, a slight frown creasing his brow.

'My lady.'

Fritha sighed, smiling as she asked, 'How long have we known each other now, Anomen?'

The man paused, seemingly thrown by her question.

'Oh, well, about two months, my lady. Much longer than I would have realised… Why do you ask?'

'Only because it should be _painfully_ clear by now that I am not a lady in any way, shape or form… well, perhaps form,' she conceded with a frown, 'But anyway, long enough surely for the use of such formalities as 'my lady' to be deemed unnecessary.'

Anomen said nothing, but his frown deepened.

'As you would have it,' he replied eventually, though Fritha noticed he did not concede to use her name either, 'But I have a question for you, if I may? I, of course, informed both the Knight Commander and High Watcher Oisig of your contact with the vampires' guild. They were as shocked as we were by their presence in the city and have charged me with finding out all I can on the matter. And to that end, I wonder if there is anything else you can recall of your meeting.'

Fritha shrugged, not particularly surprised the men would be interested, though Anomen's question was unexpected and she had to take a moment to cast her mind back to that gloomy alley, the outline of six figures stood in the shadows before her.

'Well, as I've already said, the woman was Parisa, the man, Durst, their human companions Reed and another man whose name wasn't mentioned. Then the two deserters…' Fritha paused; here could be a way of discovering more about this guild, not least how they contacted potential recruits, but she hadn't told Renal their names and she decided instantly that it wasn't something she trusted the Order with either.

'I didn't catch their names either.' She shrugged nothing new to offer the man, 'Sorry, but they didn't really say a lot, and then we were discovered and it was _me_ doing all the talking. Still, at least we know _of _the guild now. If Nalia and I hadn't met Addrick and his friends we would still be oblivious to their existence and Isea's wrongdoings both.'

'Addrick?' The squire repeated, suddenly looking far more interested in what she had to say for all his questions of vampires and Fritha nodded, smiling happily.

'Yes. He was one of the men we met on that same evening. Nalia and I ran into them on our way back from the docks and they invited us to see some musician friends of theirs play.'

Anomen did not share her smile though, staring down at her and seemingly astounded.

'You- you just met them in the street and went off to a tavern with them?'

'Yes, why not? They were nice young men, there was no danger.'

'And _how_ could you tell?' he questioned archly.

'I don't know, I just could. And I'm very glad we _did_ join them,' Fritha added stubbornly, 'we had a lovely time. Addrick is so witty, oh, the stories he told us; I swear my face hurt from all the laughing. And then, Thallen, so pleasant and attentive. And Olwyn, always willing to dance with me; he almost got into a duel on our behalf when we first arrived. And then poor drunk Kassus, who spent the majority of the evening wailing about a quarrel he'd had with his beloved…' Fritha grinned, 'According to Nalia, he said I was as beautiful as the dawn -though, admittedly, he was likely seeing two of me at the time,' she added with a laugh.

It had been nice of him to say so, however drunk he was, though it was the fact that Nalia had added that she agreed with him that was the true source of Fritha's delight. It was not a pleasure that Anomen shared though, his manner suddenly stiff.

'It is a shame that you must be satisfied with such drunken compliments.'

Fritha shrugged mildly. 'Perhaps so, but satisfied I am when no others are offered; I am nothing if not practical.'

Anomen flushed. 'I- I did not mean it like that.'

'Oh, don't fret, Anomen, we cannot expect better for one such as myself.'

'One such as yourself?' he repeated, looking strangely tense, 'You- you mean a…'

'A mercenary who barely spends more than a few days together in the city,' she at last finished for him. Anomen nodded quickly.

'Yes, yes, of course.'

Fritha sent him a bemused smile.

'Goodness, Anomen, you're in an odd mood today. Is something wrong?'

'No, no… So you spent your evening with these men…' he confirmed dully, before seeming to realise something, turning to her to demand, 'Then _why _did they not offer to escort you both home?'

'_Because_,' Fritha sighed, her smile fading as her memory of the evening continued to play out behind her eyes, 'once we met Barg and found out about Isea, it brought a rather abrupt end to our evening. We left the tavern without even telling them we were going in the end; I hope they weren't worried…'

'I cannot imagine they were,' muttered Anomen and Fritha sighed.

'Oh, Anomen, I give in, you are quite right. They were most likely scoundrels of the highest order, and Nalia and I were fortunate to escape with our virtue.'

'We were?' came a voice before her and Fritha turned to find Nalia dropping back to join them, the girl's intervention more than welcome.

'Oh, Nalia, dearest, come talk to me. What did Aerie have to say? Does she suspect anything?'

And Anomen drifted back to walk with Jaheira as talk of the elf and her imminent birthday consumed them once more.

xxx

Haer'Dalis glanced up, the sun well into its descent in the western skies and just cresting the hills that surrounded them, casting long shadows into the wooded valley and the clearing where they had decided to spend the night, the others about him, slowly dropping bags and removing cloaks as they prepared to make camp.

It was late afternoon and the day so far had consisted of nothing but wandering through forest after forest, the way becoming rougher and more arduous as they went. Perhaps he was just missing the planes, but the landscape of the Prime was certainly monotonous; though Haer'Dalis was quite willing to accept that boredom of another sort may have been colouring his opinion. His eyes flicked instinctively across to where Anomen was still deep in talk with Aerie, the girl's face aglow with a disagreeable awe, and Haer'Dalis sighed tersely.

It had been only an hour or so before when the druid had brought them to a halt saying she sensed something, an observance that soon proved a touch belated as armed figures were suddenly charging from the surrounding undergrowth. But though the bandits had the element of surprise, they really were no match for their group; something they had realised soon after and those that could had fled. No one of their group had been injured and Fritha seemed quite pleased by the whole affair (some of the fallen had carried heavy purses), but the encounter had unfortunately yielded spoils of a less favourable sort as well, the squire complaining loudly that such petty skirmishes were a waste of his time.

Haer'Dalis sent Anomen a scowl as Aerie laughed brightly at something the squire had said. Anomen was not an easy person to like and the tiefling had never been inclined to try particularly hard in such matters. He could not deny the man was an exceptional warrior, but he did not think well of him for voicing as much. And if that hadn't been galling enough, Aerie had, rather foolishly, shown an interest in the squire's boasting and the last hour of walking had been no less than torture as the bard was assailed by story after story of the squire's campaigns, Anomen still holding the elf's attentions even now.

Haer'Dalis sighed again to himself, pulling his attention from the pair to rest on the girl sat on the grass opposite and sorting through her bag, Fritha's eyes tired behind her smile. At least he did not suffer alone. The squire was always ready with a sharp word for his raven. Even today, as she had recounted to the man her evening with Nalia, a tale that held such obvious joy for her, Anomen could not seem to help himself; his behaviour only annoying Haer'Dalis more when he considered the efforts the girl was going to for his dove's birthday.

Fritha seemed determined to make the occasion a memorable one for Aerie and it was a service the bard was inclined to appreciate, the girl having a more ordered mind than he for such things. And it was something she was likely still planning even now ,considering the cautious glances she was occasionally throwing across the camp as she searched through her pack. He smiled, moving across to join her.

'Hello there,' Fritha greeted as he sat at her side, 'everything set?'

'It is indeed, well, my part at least,' Haer'Dalis smiled, checking the elf's attention was elsewhere before opening his own bag to show the girl the pale green volume, the cover printed with a pattern of leaves in white. 'It is the collected poems and plays of Erudis, my raven, a lesser know elven poet. His works are inspired, even for one who never experienced the wonder of the planes. But even so, appreciation of him is limited outside of his own people; it took quite some time to find…' He swallowed, feeling foolish but having to ask her anyway, 'Do you think Aerie will like it?'

Fritha smiled, reaching in to his bag to run her fingers lightly over the cover, her look a heartening mix of fondness and admiration.

'Yes, very much. Well, Nalia and I got everything else this morning. A present from the rest of us, plus some wine and a bottle of sherry the merchant threw in for free. In fact, here,' she huffed, struggling to pull a couple of bottles from her stuffed pack, 'you can carry the wine, my bag's heavy enough with everything else.'

'Ah, Arabellan Dry, a good choice, my raven. I spent long enough talking to Samuel back from my time at the theatre to know good wine from bad, though I imagine _anything_ would be more than welcome at the moment. This sparrow has just been enduring talk of Anomen's _glorious campaigns_. Sweet Aerie is in possession of a _very_ patient heart and the knightling has a talent for fiction surpassed only by you!'

'Really now!' Fritha cried, though Haer'Dalis could tell she was trying not to smile and he risked continuing, blithely halting any further protests with a wave of his hand.

'Bar that, my raven, you must hear one. Let me recount to you the tale of Anomen and the Wyvern. Two summers ago, I, Anomen, being the oldest squire within the Order, nay in the _history_ of the Order-'

'Haer'Dalis!'

'-was entrusted with escorting the other squires to the inter-Order spelling tournament in the neighbouring city of Riatavin, where our knowledge of such important knightly words as "righteous", "disapprove" and "smite", would be tested to the _very limit_.'

Fritha seemed to be trying to protest at this slander, but she was laughing so much she was having trouble breathing and could only shake her head as he continued.

'But as our merry crocodile snaked its way through the forest, we crossed paths with a terrible wyvern! The other squires fled, afraid and crying for their mothers as ten-year-old boys are wont to do, but I leapt upon the beast's back -a blow that surely killed it!- though I heroically thrust my lance through its spine to be sure! What is more, I was awarded third prize in the tourney for my spelling prowess. A truly glorious day!'

'When was this?' interrupted a voice above and Haer'Dalis glanced up to see the squire himself looking down on them, Fritha straightening in an instant, drawing deep calming breaths as she fanned at her flushed face.

'I do hope you are not referring to today,' Anomen continued with a sigh as he settled next to the girl on the grass, 'As I was just telling Aerie, such skirmishes are hardly worth the time it takes for me to clean my weapon. Now the Order's campaign against the Hillgnasher Giants, that brought the blood up!'

Haer'Dalis slyly caught her eye and any composure Fritha had managed to gather ended then, the girl dropping her face in her hands and sobbing with laughter. Anomen looked highly perturbed.

'What in Helm's name is _wrong_ with her?' he exclaimed as the girl rose, stumbling off over to the other side of the clearing, hiding her face in her sleeve as she went. Haer'Dalis shrugged mildly.

'I would never claim to understand the fairer sex, the girls of the Prime even less -though this unpredictability is surely half the pleasure,' he added with a smile as he watched Aerie make her way over to Fritha, the elf clearly concerned by the girl's behaviour, and he was suddenly filled with an unexpected rush of contentment. Haer'Dalis leant back on his pack and thanked every Fate listening that he was there just then with them.

Jaheira frowned, holding the rough square of parchment up to the treetops, trying to line up the crude row of drawn mountains to the iron grey peaks that stood, cloud-shrouded, on the north-eastern horizon. Jaheira sighed. It was no good; however she looked at it, the numbers just didn't tally.

'Minsc,' she called, not even taking her eyes from the map as she felt the presence of the ranger approaching behind her.

'There is a problem, yes?'

'Here,' she sighed, turning to pass him the map, 'what do you make of that?'

A moment to hold the parchment up as she had and Minsc had his answer.

'We have one mountain too many. Ah, Boo says this is not good.'

'Quite, and I agree with him.'

Well, that was what you got for buying cheap unreliable maps. Jaheira sighed again, feeling her irritation rising and fighting to rein it in; it was an understandable mistake to make and Fritha was still learning, after all.

'Oh, well, it is better we found out now, rather than further on in our journey,' she reasoned eventually, surprised at how like Khalid she sounded. There had been a time when she would have raged for a good hour at such easily avoided follies.

But that was when he had been there, ready to sooth her and keep her temper from going too far. Over the last month or so, she had slowly come to realise she had to be her own mediator and it was something that Minsc had seemingly noticed as well.

'I recognise that manner, good Jaheira –Khalid, he lives on in you, yes?' Mince nodded, his eyes gaining a distant look. 'That is how they all live on, in the people that knew them. Dynaheir would say that is why we have our odes in Rashemen, that the greatest of us will always be remembered; that their spirits may endure for a thousand years!'

'Dynaheir,' repeated Jaheira, remembering the beautiful sorceress whom she had respected and loathed by turns, 'You must miss her, Minsc.'

The ranger shrugged. They both knew it was so and he seemed to feel no need to agree.

'Khalid thought well of her, you know. What was it he said?' she continued absently, smiling as she thought back to one of her husband's _braver _moments. 'She was the essence of ruthless femininity.'

Minsc laughed his approval. 'Ah, this was our Dynaheir! How her spirit will soar when Minsc and Boo take our revenge!'

Jaheira cast her gaze once more to the distant mountains; had she not been so after Khalid was first taken? But then…

'Vengeance will not bring them back.'

'No, Minsc knows this, but it is still sought; both for those fallen and those the mage would have yet taken if he had had the chance.'

Jaheira nodded, the reminder that Irenicus's death served to protect as well as punish was a better way to focus upon it.

She smiled slightly, letting these darker thoughts drift away and turning to let her eyes travel the camp about her. Fritha was making a note of something in her diary, probably concerning the large purse of gems and jewellery at her side. Aerie had started on the evening meal, the girl slicing the cured meat they had bought for the trip into her old iron pot, while Nalia helped her, blithely stripping the outer leaves from the wild onions they'd collected on their way, her occasional sly glance up to the overcast sky nearly going unnoticed.

It was clear the girl wasn't particularly comfortable out-of-doors, something Jaheira could almost sympathise with as the weather grew colder, though she could not understand how anyone actually_ liked_ to live in cities; better to be within nature, however inhospitable, than so cut off from the world around you.

Jaheira sighed, pulling her thoughts away from the young woman and glancing across the camp to trouble of a more immediate sort. Haer'Dalis and Anomen had taken it upon themselves to put up the canvas in anticipation of the night's rains, though the bard was taking the task significantly less seriously than his partner, intentionally misunderstanding his directions and making mistakes, much to the squire's growing frustrations.

'Now, tie off the left corner.'

'As you will, my hound, the left it is.'

'Yes- No, that is the right corner!'

'Oh, apologies, I thought you were referring to _your_ left, which would, of course, be my right. Right? Oh, no, left, yes?'

Aerie had paused in her slicing to watch them, openly giggling at the bard's antics while Fritha seemed to be trying not to encourage him, ignoring the pair in favour of her own work though the girl was holding her diary suspiciously high, her face covered and shoulders trembling. Jaheira smiled and rolled her eyes.

'Fritha?'

Slowly the book was lowered to reveal a flushed forehead followed by a pair of near black eyes, sparkling with laughter and narrowed by the grin that her diary was no doubt still hiding.

Jaheira watched as Anomen paused in his work, staring across the camp at the girl, his expression unreadable and Haer'Dalis sent him a contemplative look.

'_All that's best of dark and bright_, eh, knightling?' he muttered, giving the squire a sly nudge. The man flushed and crossly turning his attention back to the ropes. Jaheira frowned.

'Fritha,' she continued briskly, 'Minsc and I have been discussing it, we think the map you bought may be wrong.'

'Really?' the girl sighed, all trace of amusement gone now as she lay down her journal and rose to join them.

'See,' continued Jaheira, proffering her the crudely drawn square of parchment, 'there are six peaks on the map and only five on the horizon. I thought another would become clear as we approached but…'

Fritha frowned. 'Oh, Hells! So, for Trademeet we were supposed to head between the fourth and fifth? We've been moving slowly off course all day then.'

Minsc nodded solemnly. 'It is so, young Fritha, but Boo thinks we are not too far off track.'

'Indeed,' agreed Jaheira, 'We could have used the nearby river as a means of placing ourselves, though I note it has been missed off this map…' Jaheira sent her a stern look. 'Some ways of saving money, Fritha, soon prove to be a false economy.'

The girl sighed and nodded, another lesson learnt.

'Right, right, give it here. I'll climb up out the valley later and have a look.'

xxx

Dinner had been cooked and eaten by now, the group all sat about the fire in companionable silence, each occupied by their own tasks. The sky, or what Fritha could see of it past the canvas that was now stretched over half the clearing, was paling to a grey, the clouds stained a fierce pink as the sun finally dipped below the hills, a chill rising in the air as it did so.

Fritha sighed, feeling pleasantly full and _very_ disinclined to move from her seat next to the fire, though in the end she relented, rising stiffly.

'Well, I had better go and get the measure of this map.'

Nalia looked as though she would have liked to offer to join her, but an icy breeze stirred through the trees about them and she retreated back into her cloak, edging closer to the fire, her embroidery still untouched in her lap. Fritha sent her an understanding smile. 'I shan't be long.'

'You cannot go alone, Fritha,' came Jaheira sharply, though the girl noted she, too, made no move to leave the fireside.

'Of course, I can.'

But Anomen shook his head as well, making to stand and having to stoop slightly as his head brushed the canvas.

'No, Jaheira is quite right, my lady. The forests can be dangerous, especially at night; I fear I must insist on escorting you.'

'Oh, as you will,' Fritha conceded, seeing no real reason to refuse the company, 'we'll be back- Haer'Dalis, not you as well?' she cried as the bard rose too, a broad smile on his pale face, 'I am _sure _we'll be fine.'

'No, no, my raven, as the squire rightly says, who knows what terrible beasts will be abroad -I would hate to think I missed the chance of such an encounter.'

Those still sat laughed, Fritha smiling as she shrugged her acceptance though Anomen looked less than pleased and so did Aerie.

'Hmm, perhaps-' began the elf contemplatively, half making to rise and Fritha laughed gently, holding a hand up to halt her.

'No, no, no, it's _definitely_ fine with three of us. Remember the adage: too many cats spoil the broth.'

Nalia snorted into her sleeve, Fritha glad to see her smiling and before anyone else could volunteer as an escort, she turned to lead the way out of the camp.

'So, Haer'Dalis, you wished to come with us because?' Fritha asked once they were a safe distance from the clearing, looking for a distraction as the ground began sloping upwards. The climb was making her ankle ache, the bitter wind not helping any as they left the shelter of the trees for the bare hillside and she knew she should have changed into her boots as the dusk fell, but couldn't see any point to it when she would be bedding down soon.

Haer'Dalis turned to her with a dramatic astonishment.

'I need a reason to spend time with my favourite raven?'

'Your _only_ raven,' she reminded evenly and the bard finally relented with a grin.

'Oh, if I must; I have been wishing to ask you what you bought my dove for her birthday.'

Fritha smiled. 'Never you mind, sparrow. You can find out when she does.'

Though it seemed Haer'Dalis did not agree, the bard proceeding to attempt to guess her gift, his ideas becoming increasingly outlandish as they climbed, Anomen sighing as he dropped back a step to follow them in stony silence.

'Oh, I have it! A vial of Evergold's waters!'

'No,' Fritha sighed; after a good quarter hour's climbing, her ankle was hurting something fierce and even she was beginning to lose patience for Haer'Dalis's game.

'Hmm, a dragon's egg?'

'No, they'd run out of those,' Fritha muttered absently as they finally reached the hill's peak, the forests and valleys of Amn stretched out beneath them, a mottle of greens and browns under the darkening sky while back in the west, the sea was molten under a setting sun.

'Ha! Very good, my raven,' laughed Haer'Dalis, 'as usual, your wit is as sharp as your blade.'

'A pity, then, we cannot say the same for you,' Anomen muttered, quiet but still audible and Haer'Dalis turned narrowed eyes upon him.

'Whereas I find it easy to draw comparisons between your wit and the dull club that hangs now at your hip.'

Fritha suppressed a groan, moving away to let them enjoy their squabble uninterrupted. The wind was much stronger up there and colder too, and she was struggling to keep the parchment of the map flat as she held it up to the view, trying to decide which of the mountains had been added in error.

At last, she made her choice, scribbling over the extra peak before carefully tracing in the course of the second river that ran so close to their camp and putting on a cross that marked what she assumed was Trademeet, the smoke haze from the settlement just visible above the tree tops to the east. One final glance over to check on perspective and she was done. Behind her, the argument was still going strong.

'By Helm, tiefling, be silent! I've never met a man more in love with the sound of his own voice!'

'I assume you mean after your blustering self, my puffed-up hound!'

Fritha sighed, fighting to keep her teeth from chattering as another blast of wind howled over them, easily finding its way under her cloak.

'Oh, give over, you two, you're behaving like children.'

Anomen threw the bard a scowl and took a step closer to her.

'Are you cold, my lady?'

'Not at all,' she lied blithely, 'this isn't cold, it's just bracing. Here, what do you think?' she continued, turning to show her amendments to Haer'Dalis.

'I would bring that river over a touch-' and she allowed him to pluck the stylus from her hand and redraw the line with a flourish. 'There, perfect.'

Fritha returned the smile he sent her, quickly rolling up the parchment before the wind could catch it.

'Well, we've got a rough idea, anyway. Come on, let's get back to camp.'

But it seemed the journey back down was to be even less peaceful than the one up, Fritha walking as fast as she could without stumbling on the steep slope, the pair following her and sniping at each other as they went.

'Oh please,' she groaned as they reached the tree line and entered again the gloom of the forest, the girl silently vowing that this was the last time she went _anywhere_ with just the pair of them, 'I am getting the worst headache.'

'You are ailing, my raven?' came Haer'Dalis, the man quickening his pace to walk next to her. 'Come, let me, cheer you with a story. There are many knightly orders all across the planes, you know, with many a deed to their names, but none bear such legends as Sir Romavin the Pointless, Knight Commander of the Most Venerable Order of the Radiant Sprout-'

'Haer'Dalis!' Fritha scolded, stopping dead and ready to put an end to things, but it was as though she had not spoken, both men stopped as she had and glaring at each other.

'You try my patience, tiefling!' growled Anomen.

'Really, my hound? I did not know you were in possession of any to make such a thing possible.'

'One more word from you, braggart, and you will be meeting your much-lauded oblivion a great deal sooner than expected!'

'Anomen!' Fritha cried, shrill in her disbelief, 'Good Gods! That is enough, both of you! Haer'Dalis,' she continued quickly, pulling the map from her bag, 'please take this back to camp; Minsc and Jaheira will no doubt wish to study it before the light fails completely.'

The bard smiled in acquiescence, sending Anomen a smug look before he turned to disappear through the trees. Fritha whirled instantly back to the man still at her side.

'What _are_ you playing at, Anomen? I know Haer'Dalis could try the patience of angels when he puts his mind to it, but to threaten another of this group…' She shook her head, still hardly able to believe it had happened. Anomen merely watched her with a dark look, his face a stony mask in the gloom.

'He insulted my honour.'

Fritha felt her anger rise and quelled it with difficulty.

'Did he indeed? And if I or Aerie or-or Nalia had said similar? Would you be there calling us out? _Well?_'

Anomen made no answer, but he had dropped his gaze and she could hear the rustle of the fallen leaves as his feet shifted uncomfortably. Fritha relented with a sigh. 'Anomen what is wrong? This anger you seem to have for the world, I just don't understand it.'

He glanced up sharply, eyes searching her face with a frown.

'You don't? You truly don't?'

'_No_, I just said I didn't. Anomen, what's wrong? Is it your sister? Or worries for your father? I will help you if I can.'

He said nothing though, just stared down at her, his lips pressed together and frowning, and in the end she gave up, sadly shaking her head.

'Fine. I could not be more disappointed with you, Anomen.'

And with that, Fritha turned and walked away, her pace quickening as she attempted to catch up with other half of the quarrel. Haer'Dalis was not too far ahead, the slight swagger in his step only serving to rile her further.

'And what was _that_?' she demanded as soon as within earshot, the bard whirling back to her.

'Sorry, my raven?'

'All that Radiant Sprout nonsense!'

'I was merely trying to cheer you-'

'Don't you give me that!' she snapped, 'You just wanted to provoke an argument, which we both know is hardly a feat in Anomen's case!' Fritha sighed, calming herself to add, 'I know you don't like him, Haer'Dalis, but this helps no one.'

The tiefling raised a cool eyebrow.

'You did not seem to mind me mocking him before.'

Fritha dipped her face as she flushed, unpleasant feelings of guilt squirming in her stomach.

'You are witty, Haer'Dalis and sometimes I laugh at things that are on reflection unkind -but I will not compound that by doing it in front of those you ridicule!'

Haer'Dalis snorted, his manner holding a coldness she had never seen in him before.

'Oh, what a proper little saint you are becoming! Take your joy where you can, my raven. Why not laugh at those who deserve to be laughed at; the man is a fool!'

'_Deserve_ to be laughed at…? You know what, you are both as bad as each other and I am more than done with the pair of you.' She whirled on her heel, ready to storm off, though it seemed the Fates had other plans, pain screaming through her ankle as she turned and Fritha was sure they heard her curse all the way back in Athkatla.

'_Beshaba's Horns!_'

But the mood she was in, it would have taken a broken leg to halt her march back to camp, the girl stalking into the clearing to throw herself down on her bedding. Her appearance was so sudden and unexpected that no one had a chance to question her before Haer'Dalis arrived to mirror her movements, the bard brusquely shaking off Aerie's concern as he presented the map to Jaheira and settled back on his own bedding in sullen silence.

Fritha watched the camp about her share a look, too angry to care about the suddenly uneasy air that had descended over the group.

'Fritha, is there some sort of… problem we should know of?' asked Jaheira eventually, unusually circuitous and Fritha was about to rather sharply tell her '_No_', when a polite cough cut her off and all glanced up to see Anomen enter the camp, the squire walking straight over to where Haer'Dalis and the now sulking Aerie were sat.

'Haer'Dalis,' he began, his voice firm and clear over them all, 'I would like to apologise for my previous behaviour. I lost my temper; I- I should not have spoken as I did.'

For a moment silence reigned; it seemed no one could quite believe what he'd said, least of all Haer'Dalis who was staring up at the man as though even the chaos of Sigil had not quite prepared him for something so wholly unexpected.

'This day has been a long one,' he replied eventually, his tone quietly courteous, 'and we are all… weary; it is forgotten, my hound.'

Anomen nodded once and Fritha watched as he returned to his place at the fireside, his gaze falling on her as soon as he was settled and she quickly turned away.

'Well,' sighed Jaheira with an air of "that answered that", the woman turning instantly to her. 'This map looks fine, Fritha, though I did notice you were limping when you came into camp. Are you injured?'

'Oh, no, not really. My foot was aching slightly earlier, but it's nothing serious.'

Across the camp, Anomen stirred, his voice quiet and measured.

'I will gladly examine it, my lady.'

'It's fine, thank you,' she answered crisply. Jaheira seemed to notice her tone.

'Come Fritha, accept with good grace. It could grow worse tomorrow,' she warned with a broad smile, 'slow our pace.'

Fritha felt her jaw clench. The druid knew any threat of trouble for the group as a whole was a sure way to get her cooperation.

'If _you're_ so bothered, _you_ have a look at it!'

'_I _do not have to; _Anomen_ has offered!'

For a moment, the women glowered at each other, Fritha glancing back to the man who was still watching her and looking unusually contrite. Her heart twisted and finally she gave in.

'All right, but in the morning when the light's better.'


	43. Begone dull care

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Begone dull care**

Fritha sat in her bedding, an almost empty bowl of porridge resting in her lap as she watched Haer'Dalis and Minsc struggling to fold up the damp canvas, the activities of those around her as they prepared for the day ahead almost unreal in the weak dawn sunlight.

It had been a bitter night and though she had slept, it had been restlessly, the girl woken several times by the cold; rearranging her blankets, only to lie there listening to the soft drum of rain on the canvas above as she waited to drift off again. Fritha swallowed the last spoonful of porridge and set down her bowl feeling tired and slightly queasy. Under any other circumstances, she would've refused breakfast, but she just didn't have the energy for a battle then, so early in the day, and had accepted the bowl from Jaheira without a sound.

A sigh next to her and Fritha glanced over to watch Nalia slowly set down her dish as well; still half full of porridge but Fritha knew the druid would not be reproaching _her _for it. The girl was watching the surround activity with a glazed look, her usually sleek hair tousled while vivid blue shadows hung under each eye. If Fritha hadn't slept a lot, she suspected Nalia hadn't slept at _all_.

'Are you all right, dearest?' Fritha asked, the seventh variation of the same question she'd been asking her all morning, as she gestured weakly to the uneaten porridge at their feet. Nalia smiled and nodded airily.

'I am fine, I am just…' She swallowed, the smile flickered, 'I'm fine.'

And Fritha watched, an awful empty feeling aching just under her ribs as Nalia rose with her bag and moved off to be lost in the trees.

Fritha sat a moment longer, focused on the point she had last seen that dark red head, before she turned back to find Anomen stood over her, the man watching her with an uncertain look.

'Ah, I would check your foot now, my lady –you did agree to let me look it over last night…'

'Yes, I did, didn't I?' She sighed, rising stiffly before stooping to collect her bag, 'Come on, then.'

'I- I'm sorry?'

'Well, I'm not going to let you _near_ my feet without giving them a wash first.'

They left the camp together, Fritha heading for the stream where they had collected last night's water, though they were only a few paces from the clearing when Anomen broke the silence between them.

'Might I speak with you, my lady?'

'About what happened yesterday?'

He nodded once and Fritha shrugged, turning back to their path, wanting nothing more than to forget the whole thing.

'As far as I'm concerned, there is nothing more to discuss.'

'I would disagree. I wish to apologise-'

'You already have.'

'Yes, to Haer'Dalis, but not to you.' Anomen sighed, clearly struggling to find the words. 'It is never my intention to cause trouble for this group, -for you. It is just my temper gets so out of hand, I cannot seem to control it. It has been thus ever since I left home for the seminary, my anger at my father poisoning my manner for everyone else.'

Fritha shook her head. Lord Cor had a lot to answer for, it seemed.

'Ah, don't worry about it, Anomen, I know things haven't exactly been easy for you, especially lately and I do know you're trying. And as for yesterday, I am as much to blame as anyone. I should have stepped in earlier and stopped things _before_ they became a problem.'

He stared down at her a long while, at last turning his attention back to the path, his voice coming quieter than before.

'It was not your fault. Haer'Dalis and I are grown men –however we may have acted to the contrary… and you… You are very patient, Fritha.'

She smiled wanly. 'I flatter myself, I am. Ah, Tymora's smile,' she exclaimed, glad of the distraction as her eyes fell upon the stream, or more correctly, the stout narrow-leaved tree a short way from the opposite bank. 'What luck!'

'What is it, my lady?'

'Chestnuts!'

Anomen blinked owlishly. 'My lady?'

'That tree over there, it's a chestnut tree; they should be well ripened by now too. Look, you can see them in amongst the fallen leaves, like little green hedgehogs.'

Fritha felt him watching as she slipped off her sandals, rolling her trousers up above the knee and securing each with a length of thin cerise cord that she usually used to keep her stockings up.

'My lady-'

'Fri-tha,' she trilled with a grin, gasping slightly as she took a first step into the cold, fast flowing water. Behind her, she heard Anomen's sigh, as one trying quite hard to keep his patience. '_Good practise_,' she considered mischievously.

'_Fritha_, what are you doing?'

Fritha sighed as well, turning very slowly to face him, the water rushing about her calves and almost stinging with cold.

'I am going to gather some chestnuts; we can eat them tonight for Aerie's birthday.'

With that she turned and resumed her crossing, clambering onto the opposite bank for a few moments earnest foraging, Fritha cautiously collecting all the fallen fruits and knocking a few more down with an obliging stick, her work punctuated with the occasional hiss as she fell foul of the prickly green husks. And she was soon back on their side of the stream, sat in the grass with a lapful of chestnuts, her legs still shining wetly and toes pink. The girl took up each nut in turn, carefully breaking through the spiny shell to reveal the cluster of sweet brown nuts within, her knife flashing as she scored each quickly along its length before dropping it with a rattle into the jar before her.

Anomen watched her in silence before-

'You are going to a lot of trouble for Aerie's birthday.'

'Of course,' she agreed, no pause to her work, 'such occasions are important, and I can't think of anyone among us who doesn't need a celebration right now.'

'Including you?'

Fritha glanced up sharply, her hands stopped halfway through scoring the last nut. Anomen was watching her with an unusually piercing look and she felt her worries well anew as she saw Nalia's flickering smile flash again behind her eyes. Fritha quelled the feeling and smiled faintly, ignoring his intimation.

'In my bag there should be a bottle near the top, will you pass it to me please?'

He stared at her a moment longer before complying, reaching over to her bag and opening it to remove the large green bottle she knew it contained. Wordlessly, he passed it to her and she received it with a smile, pocketing her now sheathed knife and pulling the cork out to pour the dark crimson liquid into the jar, the chestnuts bobbing on the surface.

'It's sweet sherry,' she explained, setting the half empty bottle down beside her and screwing the jar's lid on tightly, 'I got it for tonight, but it will give the chestnuts a nice flavour if we let them soak.' She sighed and smiled, lifting the bottle to her lips to take a quick nip before holding it out to him. 'Try some?'

The squire frowned slightly and she could almost hear his refusal, something about how he didn't think it was proper to be drinking spirits in the day and from the _bottle_ no less.

But instead he just smiled suddenly, taking it from her and holding her gaze as he tipped it back for a sip, coughing slightly as the liquid burnt his mouth and grinning almost boyishly as he handed it back to her. Fritha smiled as well, his grin infectious.

'It tastes like mid-winter, don't you think?'

He nodded, still smiling and looking quite bemused, as though he found the idea that something could taste like a time oddly wonderful.

'Yes, it is like the plum pudding they serve.'

Fritha smiled warmly and took the bottle back, packing away her belongings and slipping on her sandals, before reaching down a hand to haul him up and together they returned to camp. It was many hours later when she realised he had forgotten to check her foot and considering the weather, she was surprised she recalled it at all.

xxx

Fritha stood huddled under the branches of a stout oak tree as she examined the map in her hands, the parchment a mess of blotted ink as the rain dripped steadily on to it from the leaves above her.

It had been raining on and off all morning, light and interspersed with bursts of sunshine that had made it almost pleasant. It was not until after they had stopped for their noon meal that the weather truly broke, the dark clouds that had been gathering so threateningly since dawn finally opening and it had been raining steadily ever since.

Fritha watched those about her in the fading daylight, all tired and wet and very unhappy for their long day of trudging through the rain, Aerie and Nalia shivering under the tree opposite, while Jaheira moved about the edge of the small clearing searching in vain for some dry tinder for a fire, the men striving to unpack the canvas.

Fritha glanced again to the map before rolling it up to place back in her bag, her decision made. A night out in such weather and they would arrive at Trademeet on the morrow good for nothing and, besides that, another night like the last one would likely put Nalia off adventuring for good. The girl swallowed, knowing she was about to make herself as popular as a member of the Zhentarim as she stepped forward to halt them.

'Hold on a moment, is there really any point in stopping?'

The men looked up from their work, Nalia whipping round with a despairing look to choke 'Sorry?' and Fritha had to force herself to continue.

'I mean, everyone is wet and cold, and I doubt we'll be able to light a fire- we won't get any real rest.'

Jaheira straightened to sigh tersely. 'If you have a point I suggest you get to it.'

'Aye, my raven, before we all drown.'

'Let's just keep going. The map places us only two more hours from Trademeet.'

'It will be dark in just one,' said Jaheira pointedly, voicing the doubts they all felt.

'We've lanterns and more than one of us can call up a light,' Fritha pressed and when the misgivings remained, she added matter-of-factly, 'Surely the real question is: do you want to sleep out in this?'

The group about her shared a look; no one seemed keen for the idea. Jaheira turned back to her with a sigh.

'All right, lead on then. By Silvanus, the faith I have in you sometimes.'

xxx

'Should we not have passed the Eastern highway by now?' asked Anomen gruffly, scanning about him through the trees of the gloaming forest as though hoping to see some sign of it and Nalia closed her eyes. About half an hour after they had set off again, the rain had worsened to a steady downpour and by then it was too late to stop and attempt to put up the canvas, everyone already soaked through as they were. Nalia's fingers were numb inside the leather of her gloves; she had never felt more forlorn.

'How much further is it?' came Aerie in almost a sob, not that Nalia blamed her the distress. The girl was the shortest of them by about a head and her skirts were wet almost to her waist, the warm saffron fabric hanging mud-streaked and heavy.

'I think we are lost,' muttered Haer'Dalis audibly.

'We are _not_ lost!' snapped Fritha, turning to the man next to her to add in an undertone, 'Minsc, please tell me we're not lost.'

'No, no, young Fritha, do not worry, we will be there soon; Boo is sure of the way.'

Fritha glanced to Nalia, sending her a twisted smile through the rain and looking as though she couldn't quite decide whether to laugh or burst into tears when Jaheira called to her and the girl disappeared to the back of the group. Nalia looked up to the huge man at her side, seemingly unaffected by either the rain or cold, though from what she knew of Rashemen, he was more than likely used to much worse. Nalia stifled a cry as another blast of icy rain-laden wind blasted over them.

She knew her melancholy was a burden, for both her and the others, especially Fritha who was now looking increasingly guilt-ridden about the tempest she had so confidently led them into. And yet Nalia could not help but feel miserable; the days of walking, constantly cold and tired, taking their toll. She wanted to help others, of course, but this surely wasn't the only way, even now, when she was no better off than any common citizen.

Nalia shook her head, retreating back into her hood, the damp wool rough against her cheeks when a triumphant cry split the air and she glanced up sharply to see warm yellow points of light filtering through the trees.

'Yes!' shouted Fritha, her joy evident, 'Minsc, you marvellous man!'

But moments later and they were trudging through the dark rain-drenched streets of Trademeet, following the directions of the two surly gate guards, the group finally rounding a corner to see a tall many-windowed building, a sign bearing the legend "Vyatri's Tavern" just visible through the sheets of rain.

Inside, it was quiet, even considering the hour, the scattering of patrons hunched over their drinks in that large high-ceilinged room. Many glanced up from their tables to send them dark looks as they entered, but Fritha couldn't have cared less, so happy as she was to just be indoors. She marched promptly up to the bar sending a smile much warmer than the surroundings to the stout swarthy man behind the counter.

'Six rooms please.'

The man shook his head. 'Sorry love, can't be done. A couple of caravans have been stuck here in the town, what must be well over a tenday now; they've got most of the rooms now the weather's turned.'

Fritha just stared at him, her smile fading as she it slowly dawned that it wasn't some horrible joke.

'But- but you don't understand! I've just led them here through that,' she cried, gesturing to the nearest rain pelted window, 'If we don't find somewhere to stay they'll mutiny!'

The innkeep snorted, holding up a hand to sooth her, a grin pulling at his mouth.

'Calm down, love. I've one room free. It's a fair size and might do for all of you if some of you don't mind the floor.'

Fritha sighed deeply, so relieved she had to take hold of the bar as a tremble ran through her knees.

'At this point, sir, I'll settled for anywhere with a roof.'

'This way then,' he nodded and he led them up to the second floor, Fritha hastily explaining to the others about the less than ideal sleeping arrangements as they went. She had worried them having to share would meet with at least some _small_ amount of dissatisfaction, though it seemed by this point they were all too cold and tired to care.

'Here you are, miss,' came the innkeep, opening the door on a large, albeit sparsely furnished room, the dresser set and four-poster bed the only pieces of furniture in there.

'Thank you,' Fritha smiled as he left before turning to move inside, giving orders as she went. 'Right, Aerie and Nalia can take the bed. The rest of us will do well enough on the floor. Can you push the it into the corner please, Minsc.'

The ranger obliged her, setting his back to the heavy oak bed-frame as the rest of them unpacked blankets and bedding, just laying them down where there was space. Changing was a little more awkward though, everyone just turning their backs and making the best of it before Fritha made the circuit of the room, dressed with a pale green tunic over her slip, the girl collecting their damp clothes with Aerie to hang on the rope Jaheira had strung between the bedpost and window.

It was a strangely pleasant atmosphere with everyone sat on their bedding in their nightclothes, drinking the tea the maid had brought up. It reminded Anomen of the dormitories of the seminary when he was a boy, although that had been slightly different; there had been no women there for a start. He watched the girls now, Nalia trying to help Fritha comb out the mass of damp curls, Aerie massaging some sort of oil in to her pale delicate hands. Only Jaheira gave him some semblance of familiarity, half-laid upon her bedding slowly checking her armour as he'd seen many a lady in the Order do before her. Anomen leaned back against the warm stone of the fireplace as his eyes drifted over the group to once more rest on the two girls sat on the other side of the fire and still trying to tame Fritha's hair.

'I think this section is done.'

'Okay, thank- ow!'

'Oh, perhaps not.'

'Careful, I lost a brush in that bit just a few days back.'

'Fritha!' Nalia scolded, tapping the top of the girl's head lightly with her comb as punishment and Fritha's quiet laughter filled his ears, a pleasant warm sound. Her eyes narrowed when she laughed and looked almost black from where he sat. Anomen frowned, pulling his mind away from the thought as Aerie's voice called across the room.

'Are you two finished?' she asked, Nalia peering round Fritha to give her a conspiratorial smile and the girl grinned.

'With my hair at least.'

The elf's mouth opened again to question her, but she was cut off as Fritha drained her tea in one, chiming the cup with her comb.

'Everyone pray silence, for I've a _very_ important announcement. Today, for I imagine it is near enough to midnight by now, Aerie celebrates her birthday: one hundred and twenty-four years young, so I'm told.'

'Haer'Dalis!' cried the girl in question, flushing, but the tiefling just laughed, moving about the room filling their cups with wine as Fritha continued. 'And so I would propose a toast to her and ask that she accepts this humble gift as a heartfelt token-

'Get on with it!' heckled Jaheira and everyone laughed, Fritha fishing a plainly wrapped parcel from beneath the pillow behind her and tossing into Aerie's lap.

'To Aerie!'

'Aerie,' the room repeated, cups raised, the girl before them just shaking her head, speechless, slowly unwrapping her present to reveal a white bundle that clearly meant more to her than it did to Anomen, for she cried out suddenly, 'Oh, Fritha… you shouldn't have, I mean you _really_ shouldn't have.'

Anomen glanced to Jaheira who raised an eyebrow, as puzzled as he until the elf lifted the fabric, the soft bleached linen of a full-skirted petticoat unfurling before them, Aerie shaking her head with disbelief.

'Fritha, it was far too expensive.'

But the girl just grinned. 'Oh, don't you fret about that. The price I paid was more than reasonable. I just made sure that when I went back to the Calimshite's stall there was just his son there. Such a nice boy; we haggled for a bit and ended up settling on fifteen gold pieces and a promise…'

'A promise?'

'Aye, that he could imagine me in it anytime he pleased!' she confessed, her laughter almost drowned out by the assorted exclamations of 'Fritha!'

'You didn't!' gasped Aerie.

'I _did_,' Fritha confirmed proudly, 'it was almost a shame it was to be a surprise. With _you_ in the offering I bet I could have got it for an even ten.'

There was much laughing as the elf flushed to a delicate pink, while Fritha grinned and blessed herself.

'Wherever you rest, Dynaheir, gods keep you.'

And the evening passed quite merrily, Fritha roasting the chestnuts in a tin over the fire before passing them round, everyone peeling off the skin and pith to eat the sweet kernels while Haer'Dalis ensured that their cups were kept brim full with the dry red wine.

Whether it was because she was not used to drinking or merely the excitement of the occasion, but Aerie seemed unusually talkative, the girl sat with Haer'Dalis's arm about her as she chattered blithely, much more at ease than Anomen has ever seen her, though it did not appear to be anything new for the other girls.

'Oh, I haven't had a birthday like this since, gosh, it must be fours years ago now. Uncle Quayle threw me a party back in the circus, but I had not long been with them and it was so full of noise and laughter and everyone wishing me well, that it was almost frightening. Imagine being frightened of your own birthday party!'

She laughed merrily, Haer'Dalis taking the opportunity to lean in and kiss her cheek.

'I am glad this celebration is more to your liking then, my dove.

'Oh, yes, here with all my friends. I never even suspected…' Aerie trailed off with a blissful sigh, giggling brightly as she leaned back into the bard's arms to cry, 'Ah, I'm all full of love.'

Fritha laughed. Yes, she knew that feeling well enough; that warm affection for all the world you could find at the bottom of an ale cup.

'All full of wine, more like,' she teased, topping up the elf's cup as they laughed, the elf more than anyone.

'No, no, no,' admonished Aerie, clearly trying to be serious as she straightened once more, 'you're wrong. Love is the most powerful force in all the planes. Why else do you think there are so many songs about it?'

'Because it makes an easier rhyme than_ coin_,' Jaheira provided dryly and everyone laughed.

'How can you be that way?' sighed the elf, looking suddenly heartbroken on their behalf and Fritha grinned.

'Oh, Jaheira and I are jaded old cynics.'

'_Old_?' repeated the druid archly and Fritha laughed.

'Sorry, jaded _youthful_ cynics.'

'Really, my lady,' sighed Anomen, a slight frown furrowing his brow, 'you speak as though a world-weary soldier, I mean, you surely could not have…' He trailed off, suddenly seeming to realise what he was asking as he flushed a wonderful shade of pink.

'Seen that many battles?' she supplied with a knowing smile, Jaheira bristling on her behalf.

'Anomen! What _do_ they teach you in that Order? It certainly isn't manners!'

'Oh Jaheira…' Fritha laughed, trying to maintain her nonchalance in face of the squire's deepening frown. 'I really couldn't be accurate, Anomen, there have been so many. Hew, Piato, Leit…' she continued airily, using her fingers to mark off three boys she knew Imoen had kissed back in Candlekeep, but an interruption saved her from inventing any more names.

'Fritha, you liar!' Aerie laughed brightly, 'You told me the closest you'd ever been to romance was a boy back in Candlekeep who used to try and trip you up during sword practise!'

'Aerie!' cried Nalia, scandalised at the elf's abuse of secrets given in confidence, but Fritha just laughed. She sent the squire a grin, but Anomen turned away still frowning; there really wasn't any pleasing him, it seemed.

'Come, my birds,' announced Haer'Dalis cheerfully, drawing a box from his bag and carefully unpacking his lyre, 'let's have a song. What shall it be?'

'What about the Maid's Gavotte?' suggested Fritha, before shaking her head, 'Oh, no that one really does require at least one other instrument.'

The bard affected a dramatic gasp.

'Could it be our reluctant Prima Donna is finally ready to make her debut?'

Fritha snorted.

'This is sherry, berk, not firewine,' she quipped, lifting her cup to toast him and Haer'Dalis laughed heartily.

'You are brave now, but I know it is only because there is no instrument at hand for you to play anyway.' He shook a finger at her in playful warning, 'Beware, you may not always be so fortunate.'

Fritha grinned. 'Believe me, the luck in this was all _yours_.'

'Come on, you two,' interrupted Aerie with a whine, clearly losing patience with their banter, 'I want to sing. _Begone dull care! I prithee be gone from me.'_

And the others raised their voices to join her, Haer'Dalis skilfully plucking the accompaniment from his lyre.

'_Begone dull care, you and I shall never agree.'_

And their singing took them long into the night, everyone taking the chance to suggest songs, those that knew them joining in, others just singing at the choruses. Aerie gave a beautiful, if somewhat enthusiastic, rendition of an old elven lullaby she new, Minsc reciting for them one of his shorter odes, while even Jaheira joined in with some of the singing, reluctantly agreeing to take the part of the mother in the duet, _Whistle, Daughter, Whistle_. Fritha bore the daughter's part with a lot less coyness than it was usually sung with, the girl's jaunty whistling when she was finally offered a husband making the druid laugh so, she could hardly sing the next line.

The wine had all been drunk by now, and it was the leftover sherry that was being passed about, the heavy dark red liquid a lot less sharp after the two bottles of wine and Haer'Dalis had to warn Aerie against drinking it too quickly, lest she become ill. A warning she bore with a lot more grace than Fritha would have in her shoes, the elf seemingly happy he cared.

It was likely past midnight now, the rain still patting softy against the room's only window while the fire burned low in the grate. The singing had ended an hour or so ago, Jaheira worried they would be disturbing the other patrons if they continued and it had been replaced with a quiet talk, though even that had faded now, and Anomen let tired eyes travel the group.

Nalia was dozing on Fritha, the girl's head resting on her shoulder, Fritha's arm wrapped neatly about her as she talked with Minsc. Across the room, Aerie and Haer'Dalis were caught in some quiet talk of their own, the elf's head lain in his lap, her eyes closed even as she spoke. While Jaheira was sat at the end of the bed, her head resting against the frame, the woman clearly nodding off as well, her body jerking awake each time she came too close to sleep.

'I think it is time we retired,' sighed Jaheira finally, stretching where she sat.

'Okay,' Fritha smiled, softly tidying Nalia's hair as she gently shook her awake, 'Dearest?''

And everyone began to move, getting slowly settled in their own bedding as Jaheira rose to put out the lamps. Anomen needed only to unfold his blankets and he was ready, his attention falling back on the pair opposite, Fritha's arm still about her friend as she coaxed her from sleep.

'Come on, Nalia, wake up.'

The girl stirred, straightening to glance blearily around her.

'It- it can't be morning,' she sighed eventually, just an edge of desperation creeping into her voice and Fritha laughed softly, kissing her temple.

'No, no, dearest, it's still night; you fell asleep.'

Nalia gave a relieved sigh that soon became a yawn, and one which even her fatigue could not prevent her from politely hiding in her sleeve. Fritha smiled fondly, patting the girl's free hand and turning to Aerie as she waited for the girl to rouse herself.

'Did you enjoy your party then?'

The elf just smiled, tired but beaming, lightly kissing Haer'Dalis before picking her way across the bedding with a surprising grace to climb into the bed, Nalia reluctantly moving to join her.

'Looks like I'm next to you,' said Fritha, shifting across to bedding next to Anomen with a sigh, grinning as she added, 'but I promise I won't snore.'

He tried to reply or even smile, but he couldn't quite find the will. Fritha seemed not to notice though, the girl yawning widely as she settled down, Jaheira calling out above them, 'Is everyone ready for the lights out?'

A rumble of assent and then darkness, the last thing Anomen saw, the silhouette of her curls against the fire.


	44. A change of Nature

**Disclaimer: **I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. Nor do I own 'Chura Liya' by RD Burman.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**A change of Nature**

The room was tranquil, the only sounds, the breathing of those asleep around him and the birdsong drifting in from the street outside as a wan yellow light poured in through the open curtains. Anomen lay still, watching the gentle rise and fall of her form as Fritha slept next to him. Her hair had escaped the blankets in the night and spilled out across the floor, bright against the dark wooden boards. He focused on the nearest curl; wavy until an inch or so from the end where it spiralled into a perfect ringlet and he looked at it for what seemed like hours until she sighed, shifting in her sleep to pull it out of reach. She was laid upon her back now and he could see the tension in her face as she slept, her lips moving silently.

His friends had collared him when he'd returned to the Order with Anarg's cup; asked him if he'd heard the latest developments. Rumour had it that those who had saved the Gate had had one of the Children with them. Was it the druid? Or the Rashemi? Or that odd fellow with the blue hair? And though Anomen had said nothing at the time, he had suddenly known without a doubt who it was.

Fritha groaned quietly, her hand tightening on her blankets.

He had been trying to get her alone to ask her about it those last few days, but it was when he was sat with her, watching the girl blithely preparing the chestnuts for Aerie's birthday that he had finally decided it didn't really matter. He had never seen anything but goodness in her before and whoever her father had been was really none of his concern. And yet, his curiosity lingered still, not from any worry as to her virtue, but stemming from a hope that she shared with him the same inner turmoil; a constant struggle against a hatred bred in bone that went against the desires of heart and mind.

Fritha gasped suddenly, starting awake, for a moment disorientated before she seemed to remember herself, turning with a sigh and finally noticing him. She coloured slightly, adding to the dishevelled clothes and unkempt hair to give the meeting a strangely intimate air. Anomen swallowed and finally broke the silence.

'A nightmare?'

She nodded, but said nothing, the silence between them prompting him to break it again; he knew he had decided it did not matter, but…

'My lady…'

A glance revised things.

'Fritha,' he continued and she closed her eyes, sighing as she turned under the blankets to settle on her stomach, laying her head back down to pillow on her arms and fix him with a dark unblinking eye.

'Yes, Anomen.'

'There is something I have been wanting to ask you about for a while now, if you would permit me. In the Gate, I was told- well, you said that things ended when you killed a man, Sarevok, the one who had managed to instigate the war between our two lands and I heard, er, _have _heard since that he was- that he was your brother.'

Anomen watched her carefully for any sign of reaction to his words, but Fritha just stared back, the silence broken only by the steady breathing of the others around them until finally she blinked slowly and answered.

'I never considered him to be any relation of mine.'

Silence once more. The clear brown eye was making him feel uncomfortable and Anomen was about to sit up and find his flask just to break the tension when she spoke again.

'But I suppose if you wish to look at it _technically_ he was my half-brother; we shared the same father. That _was_ what you were getting at, wasn't it, Anomen?' she continued, a slight terseness creeping into her voice, 'His father was Bhaal… and so was mine. Why are you asking me questions you already have the answers to?'

Anomen turned away, embarrassed and now wishing he had kept to his decision not to mention it as he shifted on to his back to stare up at the whitewashed ceiling.

'I am sorry,' he mumbled, unsure of what else to say, '…How long have you known?'

He heard her sigh and shift as well.

'About four or so months now. People are always quite surprised; they can't believe it was such a shock to me, that I must have had some inkling, some _dark premonition_, but…' she trailed off, nothing more to say.

'It must have been a most terrible thing to discover.'

He heard her shrug.

'Perhaps, but it is not a burden I bear alone.'

He thought for a moment she was referring to her friends, until she continued, 'There are hundreds of others he spawned, perhaps even thousands, so I'm hardly special. Though I suppose I have a little more background knowledge than most, for all the good it does.'

'Background knowledge?' Anomen repeated, glancing to her.

'Yes, my education in Candlekeep just_ happened_ to include the gods-war and predictions surrounding it, though it meant little to me at the time. The prophecy of the Bhaalspawn; the prophecy of Alaundo the Wise. All very well and good, but as with many of _our Alan's_ farsighted glimpses, it tells only of what will occur and not even a _hint_ of what to do about it.'

Fritha smiled humourlessly, the gesture soon becoming a wince as she rubbed her forehead with a frown.

'My head is aching.'

'It was probably the sherry,' he supplied, though he doubted it, quietly passing her his flask and sitting up to root in his bag a moment, withdrawing a small packet of prepared herbs. 'Here, take those as well, my lady, they should help.'

She nodded her thanks, sitting to empty the packet straight on to her tongue and washing it down with a mouthful of water before settling back down again with a sigh.

'Ah, wake me in the spring.'

But unfortunately, it was but a few hours later when Fritha was woken, the landlord arriving to inform them two more rooms had become vacant that morning, the men taking one while Nalia and Jaheira had left for the other, (Aerie had been rather reluctant to leave her bed that morning) and allowing the group to prepare for the day with relative ease.

Anomen locked his door and set off along the hall, Haer'Dalis and Minsc already in the tavern below taking breakfast. He felt better for having washed and changed his clothes, a feeling only improved when he thought back to that morning and his talk with Fritha. Though not the easiest of subjects to broach initially, now it had been brought up he felt certain the worst was over with and it was as though a weight had been lifted from him. If someone with the blood of a dark god could control their baser impulses to maintain a good and honourable path, then he was confident such a thing was not without his grasp either. But better though he felt, he was worried too that it had not been a discussion that Fritha had been particularly comfortable with, a worry which had only grown when the girl had been awoken the second time, her manner with him civil but unmistakably strained.

Anomen paused in the corridor outside the room they had all shared the night before, and now housing only Fritha and Aerie. Though he would likely see the girl soon enough, he could not help but want to speak with her in private one last time and gain some reassurance that their friendship had not been a casualty of his curiosity.

Anomen knocked, a familiar voice calling 'Come in,' and he opened the door to find the pair up and changed, Fritha sat at the dresser going through the last of the spoils they had taken from the banditsbut days before, seemingly sorting out which would be best sold there and which would likely fetch a better price back in Athkatla. Meanwhile Aerie was amusing herself by trying on the various pieces of jewellery they had found in amongst the loot, the girl currently stood before the room's mirror wearing a heavy gold necklace set with stones that matched her eyes.

'Hello Anomen,' Fritha greeted, not even looking up from the ring she was studying and he felt his previous worries surge, 'what can we do for you?'

'Ah, well, I- I was passing your room and I merely wanted to see whether you and Aerie wished to accompany me downstairs to breakfast.'

Fritha set down the ring and picked up another, again without sparing him a glance, though he could see her smiling and his fears abated slightly.

'Ooo, an escort; it really is your birthday, Aerie,' the girl laughed, gesturing absently to the bed behind her, 'Take a seat, Anomen, we'll just be a moment.'

He accepted her offer, spending the next few moments watching Aerie twirl before the glass, observing herself from every angle before resignedly handing the necklace back to Fritha and returning to her packing. There was a time before when he would have dismissed such behaviour as improvident vanity, but Anomen had come to appreciate lately the small pleasures that travelling with fair young women could afford, and watching Aerie preen for moment or two, the necklace shimmering against the milk white of her throat had been a pleasant diversion. The squire smiled to himself; how Simon would laugh if he knew.

'Right, well, I am finished,' announced Aerie after a moment, pointedly shouldering her bag, 'Shall I just see you both down there?'

And before Anomen had even a chance to reply, she had bid them both 'Farewell' and disappeared.

'Keen, isn't she?' smiled Fritha, 'Haer'Dalis hasn't given her his present yet,' she added with a laugh as though that explained it. Anomen smiled as well, watching her as she examined a long thin dagger, the necklace now laid carelessly before her.

'You do not find it hard to part with such objects?'

'Hmm?' Fritha questioned, at last glancing up from her work to notice the necklace and realisation dawned, 'Oh, not particularly. I mean it looks very nice on Aerie, the colours attend her well-'

'_Attend_ her?' he cut in, intrigued by her odd phrasing, but Fritha just continued without comment.

'But I don't really have any use for such ornaments –unfortunately,' she added with a grin.

'So you own no jewellery then?' he pressed, interested even if only by the rarity of the thing. Even the poorest of girls usually had some mean ring or pendant with which to adorn themselves. Fritha just shrugged though, seemingly unconcerned.

'No… Well, not really…'

'My lady?'

'Well, I do have one piece…' she continued slowly, giving him an appraising sort of look before leaning in with conspiratorial smile and drawing up a long brown cord from beneath her tunic. Anomen waited with baited breath, unsure of what to expect and he could barely contain his disappointment when she finally revealed a smooth flat lump of un-carved green stone.

'It's jade,' she said in answer to his look, dropping it lightly into his hand, 'a belated birthday gift from Imoen a year or so before we left Candlekeep.'

It was warm where it had lain next to her skin and as he looked closer, he noticed the many shades of green that swirled in veins to make up the whole.

'It is beautiful,' he said finally and meant it too, unsure as to how he had not noticed it from the start. Fritha smiled, taking the stone back to slip under her tunic and returning to her work. Anomen frowned, reluctantly recalling the real reason for his visit.

'Fritha, I hope I did not upset you before, when we spoke of…' He swallowed, unsure of how to phrase it and in the end he gave up. 'Well… I merely wish to apologise if I made you feel uncomfortable. I can sometimes act thoughtlessly, though it is never my intention.'

Fritha sighed, leaning back in her chair to send him a tired smile.

'Ah, and _now_ we get to the reason for this morning's unexpected offers of gallantry.' She shook her head, turning back to the dresser before her. 'Don't fret, Anomen. Your curiosity is understandable and, besides, I came to terms with my ancestry long ago.'

'Came to terms with it?' he repeated, trying to keep the surprise he felt from his voice. 'Then, you do not _mind _being descended from such dark powers?'

Fritha snorted.

'Well, I'll hold off singing about it for the moment, but I'm certainly not ashamed. Why on Toril should I be? I haven't done anything wrong.'

Anomen nodded slowly.

'Yes, but… Well, such a heritage surely means more than just who your father was. Sarevok-'

'Was Sarevok and I am me,' Fritha cut in evenly, 'Just as within normal families, being related doesn't mean you are in any way pre-disposed to certain characteristics.' She paused, sending him a measured look, 'Are you worried that I may be leading us down a less than virtuous path, Anomen?

'No, never! But… but that does not mean that you do not struggle to keep your course.'

'No, it does not,' she conceded with smile, 'but be assured, Anomen, there is no struggle. I do as my heart directs and you, yourself, have seen the results.'

'Yes, I have,' he agreed dully, the weight on _his_ heart back and heavier than ever. But Fritha did not seem to notice the change in him, the girl merely laughing brightly.

'You sound disappointed, Anomen. Were you hoping to be the instrument of my redemption, saving me from the dark thrall of my blood? Yes, I imagine that would sound pretty impressive… especially to certain people.'

'No, you- you misunderstand me, I-' he continued hastily, desperate to explain when a sharp knocking cut him off, the door opening without invitation to reveal the smiling form of the druid.

'Fritha- oh, good morning, Anomen,' Jaheira greeted politely, before turning her attention back to the girl, 'Are you finished in here, Fritha? Everyone else is already downstairs.'

'I've just got to pack my bag. Anomen's ready though, aren't you?'

'Well, I…' He looked from Fritha to the expectant face of Jaheira and nodded once. 'I shall come now.'

xxx

After a quick breakfast, where for once it was Aerie who was refusing to partake, the group left the inn with plans to replenish their supplies and sell on some of what they had won from the bandits. But it was a task that was to prove impossible, the famous stall-lined streets of Trademeet hardly any busier than they had been the previous night.

'Goodness, it's so quiet,' murmured Aerie, the stillness of the place creeping into them as well, it seemed, as she glanced up and down yet another empty street, the damp breeze billowing about them. 'Do you imagine the animal attacks are to blame?'

Fritha shrugged. 'I don't know. Look, there's someone.'

The group turned to follow her hand as she pointed down to the end of the long cobbled street where an elderly man in dark green robes was stood beside a table under a deep canvas canopy. He was hunched over sorting through his wares, though he glanced up at their approach, stepping forward to greet them and Fritha was delighted to see the stall was covered in neat stacks of books in all sizes, sorts and conditions.

'Good day to you travellers, I bid you welcome to my humble stall. Were you looking for anything in particular or have you some rare volume for sale perchance?

'Er, neither to be honest,' admitted Fritha apologetically, 'We've goods for sale but mostly weapons and jewellery, and, as you can see, we haven't had much luck so far; I must admit this isn't what I expected from the merchant haven of Trademeet, even for all the animal attacks.'

The man's face fell, his woolly eyebrows brought low in a frown.

'Ah, my lady, if those deceitful druids were our only problems.'

'Then it has been _proved_ that they are indeed the instigators of these attacks?' interrupted Jaheira sternly, the merchant sending her a suspicious look.

'Why, _yes_, madam. There have been reports that during the last few attacks, men recognisable from the grove were directing the violence. In fact, there are even rumours that one was captured during yesterday's raid and is being interrogated by the High Merchant even now, though that is just hearsay.

Minsc shook his great bald head gravely. 'No, no, this is not good. Boo says druids should be protecting animals, not making them fight.'

'Indeed,' agreed Jaheira in a measured tone, 'and peace had lasted for so long between the grove and the town, I find it difficult to believe the druids would break it without_ cause_.'

'So,' Fritha interjected quickly at sight of the merchant's affronted look, 'what is this other trouble that has befallen the town then?'

The man turned his attention back to her and shook his head sadly.

'A short time after the attacks began, Trademeet suffered yet another blow. A group a djinn made camp outside the walls and quickly set about buying all that the caravans passing through our town had to offer. They bought at prices higher than our traders could afford; you see no merchants about you, my lady, simply because they have nothing to sell. I am unaffected as you can see; I do not rely on the caravan for my wares. But many do and, now most caravans bypass Trademeet entirely because of the attacks, we have no hope of ending this crisis. In fact, the last few caravans to pass through our town are still trapped here, unwilling to risks the forests with those druids still abroad. They're camped on the small plain on the east side of the town along with those Calimshite troublemakers. But the High Merchant, Lord Coprith, will have more news on this than I, please visit the Town Hall if you wish to know more.'

Fritha nodded and smiled. 'Fair enough, though we were hoping to stock up our supplies first; I don't suppose you know of anywhere suitable open do you?'

'I fear not, my lady, everyone I know is keeping what provisions they have for their families rather than attempting to sell them, for who knows how long this standoff will last. But please take a moment to browse my wares. They're mostly local history and those stories of a more romantic sort that are so popular with young ladies at the moment. But there are some volumes of arcane lore towards the back and you may find something to your tastes.' Fritha nodded politely, unsure whether or not she should be insulted that he didn't think she would be interested in books of a "romantic sort". He merely smiled hopefully though as another customer arrived behind them, 'Ah, please excuse me.'

Fritha instantly turned her attention to the table before her, rifling through the piles of books eager to see what he had, Nalia, Jaheira and Aerie joining her though less enthusiastically, the men moving to stand at the edge of the stall and talking idly amongst themselves, clearly not expecting to find anything of interest to them.

'Anything of use?' asked Aerie, returning to the table a heavy worn book that was written in symbols she now recognised as Old Draconic. Fritha looked up from the small slim volume she held, an ornate scrollwork of hearts and turtledoves on the cover.

'Oh, er, maybe,' she answered, glancing down to a couple of old tomes she'd pulled from the jumble, a grin lighting her face as she went back to the book in her hands, 'but by Milil, some of these novels are _awful_. Listen, listen, "_And he kissed her, the kiss of forbidden _desire"

'Fritha!' Aerie scolded playfully as Fritha and Nalia laughed, the elf unable to admonish further as Nalia cut her off.

'Oh, oh, I've found a good one, "_She looked upon him, his virility strangely compelling even as it frightened her_."

Fritha snorted noisily into the book she held, Aerie hiding her face in her sleeve as she shook with laughter, and even the druid's lips were twitching.

'That's _dreadful_!' cried Fritha, still giggling as she dabbed her nose on her sleeve, 'What's your one like, Jaheira?'

The druid glanced up sharply, a colour creeping slowly into her cheeks as she threw the book back on to the pile.

'Nothing of any interest to young girls such as you.'

The three girls laughed raucously, the noise of them drawing an interested glance from the merchant, though he remained with his other customer.

'Well, I've chosen,' announced Fritha finally, straightening to scoop a small pile of books into her arms, 'There's a couple of volumes on arcane theory that look quite interesting.'

'Arcane theory,' confirmed Jaheira dryly, taking the topmost book from the pile in her arms to glance it over, a fine woodcut of a decidedly soppy women gazing up at a full moon on the cover, '_Ardour by Moonlight_?'

But Fritha just grinned with unashamed glee. 'Come on Jaheira, look at the cover; you just _know_ it's going to be hilarious.'

The druid laughed and shook her head as Fritha continued to the girls behind her, 'Do either of you want any?'

They did, and in the end Fritha carried quite an armful over to the now delighted merchant, Fritha trading them for a couple of bloodstones and a bracelet of glass beads that had little monetary value, though he said he could give them to his granddaughter as a present.

With the rest of the market seemingly deserted, there was little point in lingering there and Fritha led them back along the street, turning to cross the empty square to the Town Hall. A grand building of granite and blue slate, it ran the length of the whole east side of the main plaza, the huge temple to Waukeen opposite it, while a large ornate fountain stood at the square's centre, the soft patter of the water echoing eerily about them.

Inside, it was no less grand, nor was it much busier, a guard approaching to ask their business there and moments later the group was stood before a huge polished desk in a richly furnished study, the High Merchant, Lord Coprith on his feet as he welcomed them in.

The introductions were hearteningly brief. It seemed Coprith had already heard of their group and was more than happy to accept the services of the ones who had enjoyed such success in Imnesvale, the man settling back in his chair and gesturing for them to take the extra seats the servants had brought, before he began his tale.

'Well, I am glad to tell you all I know of the matter and though that is not much, there have been some developments since the plea for assistance was first sent out. The creatures of the surrounding forests have been attacking caravans and sometimes even Trademeet itself for over a tenday now. The druids of the local grove were always suspected to be the source of the violence, but during these last few attacks this rumour has finally been confirmed and yesterday I believed we had made another breakthrough, though I have since discovered I was mistaken.'

'Are you speaking of the druid you've taken prisoner?' asked Jaheira abruptly. Lord Coprith gave a wry smile.

'Ah, I see it is true; nothing travels faster than idle rumour. I should have known it would be impossible to keep such news quiet, though I tried anyway. I was worried that should the townsfolk find we've a druid held here, they would storm the hall and demand I hand him over. He was discovered by a group of people in the town yesterday, shortly after an attack on the north gates. They instantly assumed he was with the other aggressors and he was set upon most brutally.' Coprith shook his head solemnly. 'If it were not for the guards intervening, I fear they might have killed him. He was brought here, but after speaking with him I soon came to the conclusion that he was not allied to the grove and it was as he maintained, that he himself had been sent to investigate the conflict. But I could not release him to his task, not with attitudes towards the druids being as they are, and if I am caught having him escorted from the town I risk being labelled an accomplice.'

Fritha nodded sympathetically; he really was stuck.

'Yes, and we have heard that this conflict is not the only trouble Trademeet is facing now.'

'You refer to those blasted djinn?' Coprith confirmed crossly, running a hand through his greying hair. 'They arrive out of the blue and demand I send men out into the forest to find some beast for them! I tried to explain that all hands were needed here protecting the town from the druids, but they would not listen and now they've taken over the town's trade. When this conflict with the druids is ended I shall have to help, if only to get rid of them, but until then my hands are tied.'

'About this conflict,' pressed Jaheira, giving the man a stern look as she continued, 'can you think of _no_ reason why the druids would suddenly break the peace?'

Coprith sighed again though tiredly this time, a faint smile pulling at his mouth.

'Cernd, the druid we arrested yesterday asked me exactly the same question. I looked into this matter long before you or he arrived, spoke with merchants and guildsmen alike and know of no reason for the attacks. But I believe now I may have a solution to them… I have a proposition for you, if you will hear it.'

xxx

Cernd shifted stiffly on the hard wooden bench, every movement sending dull pains through his entire body though he ignored them for the most part, leaning back against the wall behind him, the cold stone soothing the aches in his back. The priests from the temple of Waukeen had tended to the worst of his wounds the previous day and all that remained were bruises; painful but nothing serious.

Quite fortunate for a man who had been so violently set about, he considered, trying to improve his mood as he glanced around the gloomy cellar kitchens of the Town Hall. The room was illuminated only by the light from the hearth, the coals that glowed in within throwing a dark orange light over the pallet that had been placed on the floor before it, the blankets still rumpled from where he had risen that morning.

It was a large room and, though there were no windows, quite airy, but even so he felt claustrophobic. Though he had agreed with Coprith, in that it would be too dangerous for him to attempt to leave the town at that time, and was grateful to the man for arranging him somewhere out of the way to stay while the storm passed, Cernd could not help but long to be outside, under the sky once more. The idea that he was unable to due to his own foolishness making it all the harder to bear.

The door was not locked but he still felt like a prisoner, trapped by the people's hatred and his own clumsy appearance in the town. He had been so eager to find the source of the trouble; he should have been more careful, and now he was reaping the consequences of his rashness. Fury at himself swelled, but with a practised ease he quelled it, letting the feeling subside into the unruffled calm that usually hung about his heart.

Such anger would help no one, least of all him. His rashness had already been the cause of one setback in this, he should-

Cernd stopped this line of thought as he heard voices echoing along the corridor outside; a young woman was talking and he wondered if it was one of the guildmistresses come with Coprith to question him further, her voice muffled but audible through the wood of the door.

'-and gods, Jaheira, did you have to be so accusatory? I know you want proof the druids are truly to blame in all this, but there's hardly any need to take every word said against them as a personal insult.'

Another voice, again female though this one sounded older, her accent placing her as one from the Tethyrian regions.

'I am merely looking for the truth in the matter and my methods are no concern of-'

'Here we, the last door, just as Coprith said,' cut in yet another girl and Cernd wondered just who was outside, though he was given no more time to contemplate this as the door opened and a girl entered, quickly scanning the room to find him.

'Hello, Cernd, isn't it?' she greeted, moving into the room proper, and he could see now she was of an elven heritage, the pale copper curls that had escaped her hair pins almost hiding the slight point to her ears. Cernd said nothing at first, watching as the two other voices gained forms, two more women entering the room behind her, the first, another half-elf, tall and tawny; the other, a full elf and much shorter with it, her golden hair bound back from her face, sharply pointed ears peaking through the wavy tresses.

'Well met to you, ladies,' he greeted finally, when sure no one else would be joining them, 'I am Cernd, as you say, though my identity is surely no secret after the fuss I have caused here. If it were not for the actions of Lord Coprith, I doubt I would still be alive.'

The red-haired girl smiled. 'Yes, well, he clearly thinks a lot of you. He has told us of your investigation into the conflict here and has asked us to accompany you from the city and aid you in the task.'

And from there she introduced their three to him, explaining how the rest of their group upstairs awaiting them, the girl brightly rattling off their names and plans. Cernd smiled, feeling as though something was at last working to his advantage.

'Ah, finally some thaw to this bitter deadlock,' he sighed making to stand, 'You would leave now? I am more than eager to leave this place.'

Fritha glanced to the Tethyrian women he now knew as Jaheira with a shrug.

'Yes, I suppose there is no reason to linger here if we can't trade.'

'Are you well enough to travel?' asked the elf, Aerie, starting towards him with a tentative hand held out as though to check the dark welt that he knew still stained the side of his jaw. He smiled reassuringly at her.

'It is much worse than it looks, child.'

'Good,' continued Jaheira briskly, 'and you have a cloak?'

He nodded, moving to retrieve it from the pallet before them, where it lay discarded next to his bag and Fritha sent him a grin.

'Best if the townsfolk don't see you, eh?'

xxx

Outside, it was trying to rain again, the first time yet the poor weather had been a benefit, Cernd able to pull the hood of his cloak up over his face without looking suspicious. The streets were slightly busier now the morning was half gone, the people they passed sending them dark distrustful looks as they made their way eastwards through the town. Until, finally they reached the town walls, passing through the gates with a nod to the guards to find themselves out on a grassy clearing about two hundred yards across, a myriad of tents and carts huddled against the walls, as far as possible from the forest that surrounded them.

A clear path had been left from the gates to the forest's edge and, without a pause, the group set off. Fritha was walking almost abreast with Jaheira and the newcomer and she took the chance to look at Cernd in the daylight. She could not see much of his face, though this was probably a good thing considering the situation, and her mind drifted back to the gloom of the kitchens.

He had strong if slightly weathered features, which made him appear older than Fritha suspected he actually was. She had wondered how the townsfolk had known Cernd was a druid to attack him, not just some stranger or with the caravans, though she was left in little doubt once she'd met him. If anyone could look like a druid, it was Cernd. His hair, an ash blond so pale that it was almost grey, was worn long and entwined here and there with rough stone beads and fragments of wood. His clothes were simple and travel worn, the staff he held similar to Jaheira's though much less worked, the long pole twisted and gnarled as though it had not changed much since it had been taken from the tree.

'So how did you come to be here, Cernd?' asked Jaheira after a moment, pointedly ignoring Fritha's surprised look; it was unlike the woman to ever _instigate_ small talk. 'We know you were drawn by the conflict between the townsfolk and the local grove, but more than that…'

A pause to look at the woman addressing him, and Cernd made his reply. He had not spoken much up to this point and Fritha found his voice had a calming quality, slow and mellow in a way that made her think of owls.

'At present, I serve the Grand Druid in the North. When he discovered that the druid order of this region had severed ties with the traditional hierarchy, he believed I would be the best person to investigate the matter. But I have failed to learn anything so far. I was taken prisoner the instant I arrived, though I cannot blame the townsfolk. I appeared not long after another animal attack, so it must have seemed suspicious. I should have crept quietly as the vine instead of blustering as the wind; on occasion I sometimes forget the subtleties that allow nature to progress.'

Fritha caught Jaheira's eye, trying not to smile as she raised her eyebrows and the woman frowned, turning instantly back to the man at her side.

'And have you any thoughts as to why they have broken contact with the hierarchy?'

'I suspect a change of leadership and the tales of violence I have heard since merely confirm this theory. If they are indeed without cause then every step must be taken to end the attacks.'

'_If_ they are without cause?' repeated Fritha, emphasising the slight stress he himself had placed on the sentence, 'You doubt Lord Coprith's word?'

'It would not be the first time a leader has been blind to the transgressions of his people; one wolf may lead the pack but each animal has its own will. If we find that the townsfolk have perhaps been felling trees or trapping…' He trailed off and Anomen frowned.

'So if you find the druids have a cause, what then? You will allow them to continue with this violence?'

'No,' came Aerie earnestly, 'surely some agreement would be reached between the druids and the town.'

She looked to the two druids for confirmation of this and Cernd paused a moment before continuing evasively, 'We must determine what is best for nature.'

'And _what _of the people of Trademeet?' questioned Nalia sharply, Jaheira turning to snap a reply and Fritha intervened hastily.

'Now, now, children, we're too far away from a resolution to be arguing about it already.'

The tense silence of a truce descended, Aerie glancing northwards into the jumble of caravans.

'Hey, what- what is that?'

Everyone stopped to listen, the faint strains of music drifting about them in the cool air; handchimes, a drum, a pipe and an almost metallic thrumming she recognised as a sitar joined in harmony and Fritha smiled.

'Ah, I think we've found our djinn.'

They followed the Calimshite music through the makeshift camp, passing the occasional trader or caravan driver though no one questioned their passage, Fritha singing the words softly under her breath as they went. They had reached the source by now, a huge striped pavilion in violet and blue set against the forest's edge without any worry as to the danger, it seemed, Fritha sweeping up with a grin to stand before it and raise her voice, her song floating over the damp autumn air.

'_Oh, le liya dil, oh, haai mera dil, haai dil lekar mujhko na behlaana._'

A sudden silence as the music within stopped and but moments later the tent flap was thrown wide and out stepped a tall swarthy man with a bald head and neatly cropped beard that came to a long point. His trousers and tunic were both of voluminous white silk, the width of the shirt kept in check by the long emerald green waistcoat he wore over the top, the thick gold embroidery that covered it glinting in the weak sunlight. He made for an impressive sight, his features lit with an entertained surprise as he surveyed the group before him, his eyes finally coming to rest on her.

'What is this? A songbird has come to visit us? Well, well, greetings to you then, little manali. I am Khan Zahvaa of Calimsham; what can we djinn be doing for you?'

Fritha smiled; he radiated a loud amiability that reminded her of Minsc.

'Well, we've heard something of your… _exploits_ about the town and we wished to ask you about it.'

Khan stroked his beard ponderously.

'Indeed, mortal? Well, I know not what you have already heard of this so I shall commence at the beginning of the tale. We are in pursuit of a criminal of some repute, a rakshasa; you have heard of them, yes? Creatures that look as tigers and walk as men. This one goes by the name of Ihtafeer. A very naughty little creature, she and her two brothers have been causing all sorts of trouble in Calimshan. We have followed this particular prey for some months now, but she has eluded us at every turn. We know that she is hiding in this area in mortal form-'

'You mean they are here in Trademeet?' exclaimed Nalia, looking alarmed but the djinn merely laughed grimly.

'No, no, even she is not arrogant enough to hide so close to us. But she is somewhere nearby, of that we are sure.'

'So you've taken over the trade of this town to force them to find her for you?' confirmed Jaheira, her contempt for this action quite evident, though Khan took no offence, the huge man shrugging evenly.

'Well, what would you do, mortal? She is not foolish enough to reveal herself to us and we grow tired of the chase; it cannot be denied the hunt is certainly more enjoyable this way, yes?' He laughed amiably, seemingly unrepentant for the trouble he and his companions were causing. 'In the beginning, we bought all goods from the caravans that passed through here and offered them for sale at prices too high for the merchants of the town, effectively cutting off their supply until they agreed to help us. Though now the attacks by the druids are worse, no new caravans come anyway and our threats are idle.'

'Well,' continued Fritha quickly as she felt the displeasure of those about her rise a notch, 'we're going over to the druid grove now to see if we can't resolve one of these problems, we'll keep an eye out for this rakshasa as well if you like.'

Khan smiled broadly. 'Yes, ah, this would be a very good thing indeed, little manali. Amusing though this is, we wish to return to-'

'Aerie!' cried a high voice behind them and all turned to see a young boy, dark-haired and skinny, his short cloak flapping out behind him as he tore across the wet grass towards them, his face glowing, 'Nalia! Aerie!'

The two girls shared an astounded look, Aerie turning back to cry, '_D-Delon_?'

The boy didn't reply, just barrelled into her and threw his arms about her waist with such force it knocked her back a step, much to the amusement of the others.

'My dove, should I be jealous?' quipped Haer'Dalis, his dark eyes shinning.

'Oh, go to!' Aerie scolded, turning her attentions back to the young boy who had already released her to turn and embrace Nalia's legs, the red-haired girl giving Delon a bewildered look and patting him awkwardly on the head.

'Delon, what on Toril are you doing here?'

The boy stepped back to send them both a wide smile.

'Well, you put my brother and me on Fald's caravan back in Athkatla, didn't you? Well, he came here to sell his wares before taking us to Umar, but when we tried to leave we were attacked by animals and druids and _everything_! We fought them off, but had to turn back and we've been stuck here ever since. Fald's been in a temper for a tenday, but I don't mind, it's really exciting!' Here he snuck a glance at Khan, his boyish awe evident, the djinn sending him a friendly grin, '_And_ we heard you saved Umar; we were so happy!'

'Ah, that is… good. And this must be your brother,' smiled Nalia as another boy approached them, the family resemblance plain to see, 'Hello, ah…'

'Blayel, m'lady,' he supplied politely, dipping a quick bow. On closer look, Fritha placed the youth at about fifteen winters, much younger than his grave manner would suggest, though she expected having sole guardianship of a younger brother would make an adult of anyone. 'I am glad we have had the luck to meet you both again, I was never given the chance to thank you for helping us before.'

'Oh, w-well, you're quite welcome,' beamed Aerie, going pink.

'And these must be your companions,' Blayel continued with a smile, turning to the rest of them, 'I cannot say how glad my brother and I were to hear of our village's rescue; we and, indeed, the whole of Umar are in your debt.'

'Hey Fald, look who it is!' called Delon as a short sandy-haired man of middle years appeared from one of the tents opposite, Fald glancing over to them at this address and frowning as he noticed Khan, though he ambled over all the same.

'We meet again, ladies,' he greeted with a smile, 'though I fear you find us in an even worse predicament that the first time we met. The boys have told you the details of it, I assume? At this rate I'll be lucky to finish my route and get back to the city before midwinter -and the poor townsfolk here are hardly better off, being forced out of business as they are,' he added audibly, with a look to Khan as though daring him to say something. The djinn remained silent though and Fald turned back to rest of them with a frown as he explained, 'All were eager when we first arrived to sell on our goods and leave before the druids escalated things, and the djinn had a seemingly endless supply of coin. I regret to say I sold all my wares to them, not knowing their plans for the town. You tricked us, Khan.'

The djinn nodded evenly. 'Perhaps so, but it is the druids that _keep _you here; you cannot blame us for that, mortal.'

But that certainly didn't stop Fald from wanting to, it seemed, the merchant glaring up at the man who stood over a head above him. Jaheira cut in before anything more could be said.

'Yes, and we had better be leaving if we intend to make any headway on either problem.'

Fald nodded once, turning back to them with a polite, if strained, smile.

'Indeed, take care all of you.'

'Yes, yes,' agreed Khan, beaming once more, 'good hunting, little manali.'

And the group set off again, Delon walking with them into the edge of the forest until an uncharacteristically stern Aerie sent him back to the camp, Minsc using this moment of pause to consult Fritha's hastily amended map. The newcomer Cernd pushed back his hood for the first time since they left the dungeon, the man more at peace than Fritha had seen him yet as he let the fine rain mist his face.

'Come, friends,' he said at last, adjusting his grip on his staff and moving purposefully to the head of the group, 'the grove is this way.'

Minsc threw a glance to the rest of them and shrugged, pushing the map back into his bag and ambling after him, and in silence they followed.


	45. Dark lowers the tempest

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

**–** Blackcross & Taylor

**Dark lowers the tempest**

It was colder that day than any they had seen yet, though at least the rain had eased off, the air about them damp and heavy with the scent of wet earth and stagnant water. The trees were thinning as the ground beneath became marshier, the forest slowly giving way to fens as they headed further south while the sky hung a dull washed out grey above the mottled canopy of decaying leaves.

Fritha's feet were wet. She had always thought of her boots as quite well made, but the months of travelling had clearly taken their toll and they hadn't gone a couple of hours through the sodden marshland before they'd started leaking. And the way was only getting worse, the ground broken up by expanses of murky green grey water, the trees and bushes grouped thickly on any ground solid enough to take purchase, their thick gnarled roots twisting down into the wide languid rivers that flowed, albeit very slowly, off through the marsh.

Cernd was still at the head of their group, Jaheira and Minsc not far behind him as he led them confidently onwards. He was as comfortable there as Jaheira, but even so he seemed remarkably sure of the way and Fritha wondered whether this was really his first visit to the area. A short way behind those three, Aerie and Haer'Dalis were walking together, talking mildly, which left herself, Nalia and Anomen bringing up the back, Fritha and Nalia abreast while the squire followed a few paces behind them.

Fritha glanced to the girl at her side, looking cold and weary as she pulled her foot from another sucking patch of bog. Nalia had been waning ever since they'd entered the forest, the last few hours trudging through the marshes clearly doing nothing for her friend's spirits. She sent the girl a smile which was returned after a moment, albeit wanly.

'So… have you finished that embroidery on your new robes yet?' Fritha began cheerily with the vain hope of distracting her friend, 'it was looking very nice when I saw it the other night.'

But Nalia just shook her head.

'No, I find it hard to sew in just the firelight.'

'Oh, well, perhaps Aerie or Jaheira could call up a light for you tonight –I could even have another go at it, if you don't want to ask them.'

'Mmm, perhaps.'

Fritha sighed, her smile fading in face of the girl's coldness.

'Are you well, dearest?'

A pause as a tired, almost irritated look flitted across Nalia's face before she answered her with a sigh and a bright false smile.

'Yes, yes, I am fine.'

Fritha understood her exasperation; the sheer effort it took sometimes to pretend all was well, you just wished everyone would merely leave you to your melancholy. She moved to take her hand, Nalia's gloves putting a strange barrier between their skin that Fritha didn't much like though it hardly mattered in the end, their hands joined for only a moment before Nalia pulled away under the excuse of adjusting her cloak. Fritha swallowed, trying not to let it hurt.

'Please, dearest, if something is wrong then I'd much rather you told me.'

'Just as you tell me when you are upset?' Nalia countered dully and Fritha was about to say that was different when she stopped. When she didn't confide in Nalia, it was usually because it was concerning things the girl could do nothing about, and perhaps Nalia realised it too and that was what she was getting at- Fritha couldn't help her. She couldn't change the weather or where paid work sent them or anything…

They continued on in silence, Fritha slowing her pace to allow the girl to draw away from her, walking at Nalia's side merely emphasising the painful distance between them.

It was a move, she considered, that she may soon be regretting though as she found herself side by side with Anomen. He had been showing signs of wanting to catch her alone again since they'd left Trademeet and she had a pretty good idea as to why.

Fritha bit back a sigh. It was not that she minded Anomen knowing about her rather dubious ancestry, only that she found the discussion of it rather depressing, her mind forced to dwell on things she usually preferred to forget. She glanced to the man to find him sending her a searching look and she predicted his words before he even spoke.

'My lady, is something wrong with Nalia? She seems a touch distressed.'

Fritha stared at him a moment, surprise and guilt fighting for dominance as all her assumptions were all proved false; she really should stop judging the squire so harshly.

The girl glanced ahead to where her friend was now walking alone, huddled under her cloak. Fritha scrubbed a cold hand across her face, trying to keep the weariness she felt from her voice as she answered him.

'I have asked her, but she says she is fine. Perhaps she is just tired.'

Anomen nodded, seemingly satisfied with this explanation and they walked on in companionable silence just long enough for Fritha's attention to wander back to her squelching feet when-

'Fritha, I wonder if we could continue our conversation from before.'

Fritha only just suppressed a groan. She took it all back, the man was a _nightmare_.

'And which one would that be?' she inquired mildly, knowing full well what he was getting at and hoping her feigned ignorance would discourage him. It did not.

Anomen frowned, looking somewhat uncertain as he leaned in slightly and lowered his voice.

'Well, our talk of your heritage.'

'Sorry?'

'Y-Your heritage, my lady?'

'Oh right, yes, of course,' she laughed, shaking her head at her own forgetfulness, 'I was at a complete loss there for a second, I mean, it's not as though you've been going on about it _all_ _morning_.'

Anomen flushed and she could see the sudden tension in his jaw, his voice low and earnest as he continued.

'My lady, I understand you may feel uncomfortable, but it is a matter that has been pressing on me for some time now.'

'Oh, Anomen,' she whined, knowing she sounded like a petulant child and not much caring, 'do we have to go through this _again_? Really, what is there left to discuss?'

'What, indeed! You may act as though this is a matter of little concern to you, but I cannot believe that is so. Your dark heritage must hold at least _some _sway over your heart! You must face _some_ internal struggle, feel _some_ urging towards darkness!'

'Will you keep your bloody voice down,' Fritha hissed throwing a surreptitious glance ahead of them as though she expected the others to be watching. 'And since you're refusing to give up on the subject, I have a question for you. How did you find out? You said you heard I was related to Sarevok?'

'Well, yes. There is a rumour travelling the Order that one of the Children was with the group that saved the Gate -though it is just a rumour; no one knows it is you.'

Fritha sighed. Well, that was something at least.

'Simon actually thought it was Haer'Dalis,' Anomen added conversationally.

'Haer'Dalis, eh? Ah, wouldn't he laugh if he knew.'

Fritha smiled slightly, considering for a moment that quite a bit might have been different had he known. She glanced ahead to where the bard was walking with Aerie, an arm about her as they talked quietly and Fritha felt a twinge. Amusement? Regret? She wasn't sure.

'So he does not know,' confirmed Anomen with a frown, 'I must admit, I am surprised. Might I ask who does?'

Fritha sighed again and more deeply this time.

'Of our company: Jaheira, Minsc, and now you, and that is more than enough.'

'You are worried about the others' reactions?'

She shrugged mildly.

'Not especially. I just don't feel it's particularly important. Do you tell everyone your father's a drunk?'

The words had left her mouth before she'd even considered them and Fritha could only turn to him, horrified, Anomen's stance suddenly rigid behind his paled face.

'I'm sorry,' she continued quickly, 'I didn't mean it like that.'

'No, it is fine, my lady,' he answered after a moment, in a tone of stiff civility, 'After all, I have treated your feelings with no more care.'

'Yes, but it's not quite the same. Ah, how do I describe it?' she wondered aloud, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes and wishing everything wasn't so complicated. 'Anomen, I only found out about all this but a few months ago. In my mind, Gorion was and will always be my father and he was a good, kind man and I feel blessed to have known him. The rest… the rest is just blood and dreams. I'm not particularly happy about my ancestry, but I _have _accepted it,' she shrugged mildly, 'what else could I do? And to answer your first question, there is no dark struggle that I am aware of, but if you are truly worried as to the virtue-'

'No, Fritha!' Anomen burst out suddenly, halting to whirl on her with a frustrated look, 'Can you not see? It is not a question of your virtue, but my own! This anger I feel sometimes, such rage I can barely control it, it is against all the Order teaches. I should be able to suppress it, control it, but I cannot, and I thought- I hoped that if you felt as I do, if you fought against it as I must, then… then you could show me the way.'

He trailed off, looking embarrassed by his outburst as he turned abruptly to continue their path after the others and Fritha fell into step beside him, feeling tired and depressed.

'I'm sorry, Anomen, I understand it must be frustrating struggling with something others seem to find so simple, but perhaps you could speak with Sir Ryan or the Prelate about it. I know you probably feel alone in this, but I cannot believe what you are experiencing is so uncommon, and they would be in a much better position to help you than I.'

She was smiling hopefully at him, but it soon faded in face of the blank look he was sending her.

'You would not even attempt to understand?'

He had stopped walking again and was staring down at her, his pale eyes dark under lowered brows. Fritha mouthed a moment, trying to find the words to explain herself.

'Now, Anomen, I have tried-'

'No, my lady, you are correct,' he cut in, his bitterness audible, 'please do not concern yourself with this any longer. I see now it was wrong to come to you.'

'Anomen, stop being-' she cried, taking his sleeve as he made to march off, the others glancing back to them at the sound.

'_No!'_ he snapped, snatching back his arm and sounding as though he was struggling to keep his temper, 'Now just- just stand away from me a moment that I might gather my thoughts.'

Fritha stared up at him, very aware of the others just ahead of them, all looking on with a clear interest, barring Cernd who seemed to be doing his best to pretend he had not noticed, the druid taking a sudden and keen interest in the local flora. Nalia was watching them, pale and drawn beneath her hood and Fritha felt a sudden surge of anger at how unfair everything seemed. She only ever tried to help and all she got was _grief_.

'Fine,' she heard herself say, 'If that's what you want, then fine, because I've had enough.'

And with that she just continued walking, her movement seeming to rouse the others and everyone turned to once more resume their journey, an uncomfortable silence descending over them.

Fritha pulled up her hood and kept her head down. Her face felt hot, her mind swimming with all the things she wished she'd said to the man; how she wasn't surprised he hadn't gone to Sir Ryan with his problems if _that _was how he treated people who tried to help him, and how it wasn't any of his sodding business _who_ her father had been anyway!

A movement just on the edge of her hood and she glanced up to see Nalia had dropped back to walk at her side once more. The girl sent her a small smile, Fritha turning her face sullenly back to the path ahead, though she did not pull away as Nalia took her hand.

xxx

Jaheira walked on, cold and tired and blissfully aware of the myriad of life all around her, the marsh so thrumming with it that she could not help but be filled with a deep sense of peace that she found all too rarely those days. Though it appeared their surroundings were not bringing out the best in some of the others, Fritha and Anomen's quarrel the only jarring note in the otherwise tranquil hum of her mind. Still, the girl seemed no worse for it, now talking quietly with Nalia and as for the squire, well he had been in an odd humour for days now, ever since his meeting with his superiors at the Order and she wondered if the man was not now regretting his decision in the face of what it could have cost him.

Ah, regrets. Who did _not _have them? And her mind was drawn inevitably back to the worry that had been pressing on her for days now: Galvarey and his persistent interest in Fritha. Bernard had informed her just before they'd left the city that her presence was once more expected at the hold, but they had departed in such a rush in the end that Jaheira had not had chance to attend. It was something she had been only too glad of at the time, though the knowledge of it hung over her still, that doom-laden sense that she was merely delaying the inevitable…

If only she had ignored Galvarey's initial summons. But then she would not have been reunited with Dermin and she recalled with painful clarity the pleasure of her last meeting with the man, sat in a local tavern with a few of their brethren, some she knew of old, others new to her, the group playing cards and discussing the latest troubles and triumphs across Faerûn that so united them in their cause. It was at times like that she truly realised that her place was with the Harpers, the sense of purpose it gave her. It was similar to the feeling she had as a druid, the idea that she was a part of something so much wider, greater.

Jaheira sighed slightly to herself, watching the changing colours and textures of the undergrowth as they walked on. She had never felt comfortable alone, not physically but mentally; always a hunger burning within her ever since she was young to be connected to other things, other people. Perhaps the need came from never knowing her parents; having no past to anchor her to the world, no family to which she would always belong…

Jaheira shook her head, not in the mood for any soul-searching and she glanced back to check on those following, when a glimpse of tawny fur in the undergrowth next to them caught her eye.

'Hold, everyone! We are attacked!'

But her answer was not the low growl she expected but a voice, harsh and just as unwelcome, a lean dark-haired man stepping from the bushes next to them, the great tawny leopard she had seen at his side.

'You have good eyes, outsider,' he began with a sneer and a nod to her, turning to the rest of them to order loudly, 'You will go back the way you have come, all of you! This area is under the control of the druids of this grove; leave now or face Nature's wrath!'

'And by what authority do you make this threat?' came a voice next to her, just as ringing, just as forceful and Jaheira glanced to the man at her side, Cernd drawing back his hood to at last reveal his face, the serene expression he wore looking suddenly rigid. 'This is not our way, Pauden.'

Pauden could have looked no more surprised if Silvanus Himself had suddenly appeared in their midst.

'Cernd! You… you have been away for some time. Much has changed.'

'So I see,' Cernd agreed, and in a tone that indicated _exactly_ what he thought of these changes, 'The Grand Druid has not heard good things about what has been happening here; attacks on the townsfolk without cause, the enslavement of animals to fight for you and be slaughtered in your stead.'

Pauden swallowed, looking uncomfortable.

'It is the new way, Cernd. We have a new leader to follow and she has moved us in this direction.'

Cernd frowned, disquiet flickering behind his eyes.

'She? And what of Gragus? Was he not Great Druid of this grove?'

'Yes, but he was challenged and… replaced. Faldorn leads now and none have dared challenge her as yet.'

'Faldorn,' Cernd repeated, smiling grimly as he shook his head, 'I should have realised. So, instead of taking a stand, you follow as ants and do her foul deeds. Have you not the courage to face her?'

If Cernd meant to shame the man, he failed, Pauden ignoring his slight to send him a measured look.

'She has bonded with the grove, Cernd.'

Jaheira felt the cold air burn her throat as she drew a sharp breath, the sudden paleness of his skin the only sign to give away Cernd's alarm, and she could sense the others around them sharing blank looks as Pauden continued.

'She claims the Earth Mother speaks to her through the land, that it is by Her Will that she orders these attacks. She is invincible outside of the Challenges.'

Cernd's face was set as he retreated back into his hood.

'Then we shall meet in terms she will understand.'

Pauden looked for a moment as though he would warn against this course before he sighed and shook his head.

'Cernd, I do not enjoy this new role we now take, but others do. Walk carefully.'

And with that, he turned and was lost to the trees, the cat lingering to give them all a measured look before turning to prowl after him.

Jaheira glanced to Cernd as the group continued on their way, the man hidden again in his hood, grey eyes staring mildly out at world. He was as stoic as ever though she could tell this meeting had shaken him, as well as confirming her suspicions which had been building since they'd first arrived in the fenlands. This was not the first visit Cernd had made to the grove, indeed he had led them with a confidence that spoke of someone knew the place quite intimately. At first, Jaheira had wondered if Coprith had not been deceived in the druid's intentions, that he was perhaps leading them into a trap. But no longer. It was clear this news of the great druid's demise had come as a shock, and as for someone bonding with the grove…

'This news disturbs you, does it not?' came a smooth voice at her side and Jaheira turned to find Cernd watching her. 'Indeed, no servant of Nature could hear of such an abuse and not feel a deep repulsion.'

Jaheira nodded, more than ready to get some sort of explanation from him.

'This Faldorn, when Pauden spoke of her it seemed she was not unknown to you.'

Cernd nodded once.

'Indeed, that is so. She was a Shadow Druid though she was admitted to the grove not long before I joined, claiming to have left her violent ways with her sisters on the Sword Coast. But the fox cannot lie down with the dog, and we did not sit well together. As for her bonding with the grove, if her desire for power was as vehement as it was when I left here, I can well believe of her this atrocity.' Cernd sighed and shook his head, the shadow of some past regret crossing his face, before he blinked and it was gone. 'She draws power from the land to further strengthen herself and at great cost to the surrounding area too. Such a ritual is almost unheard of; it will be as Pauden said, she will be invincible outside of official challenges.' He sighed again, his eyes darkening. 'I must be prepared for her.'

'_We_ must be prepared,' Jaheira corrected firmly.

He nodded once and smiled, the gesture not quite lifting the worry from his eyes and they walked on in silence for a while, Jaheira about to ask him why he had not mentioned his suspicions or the fact he was known there to begin with when a shout from behind them cut her off.

'Hey, what's that?'

And Jaheira looked back to see Fritha pointing through the trees to a long arc of stone that spanned the broad river they had been following for the last hour.

'A bridge?' came Aerie, standing on her tip-toes as she strained to get a better look.

'What's a bridge doing over the middle of a swamp?'

Cernd smiled, glancing to Fritha as they drew closer and Jaheira saw that the bridge did not arc back down into the marshes as she would have expected, but ended high above the waters on an outcrop of pale sandy rock, upon which was set a large dilapidated house, the forest closing in thick about it.

'As you see, it is not so much a bridge _over _something as a path _to_ something. As the tale goes, it was built some time ago by a mage who had offended his peers and wanted to _disappear_ for a while. The grove was not so well established back then and the local druids did little to stop him. The mage eventually left or died, and the place has been empty for decades.'

They had reached the foot of the bridge by now, the red tiled roof of the house just visible above the smooth stone crest.

'Well, it can't be occupied now,' said Aerie, 'the druids surely wouldn't allow it.'

'There's no smoke from the chimney,' offered Nalia quietly.

'Come, you can have a better look as we pass by it, the bridge makes for the best route over the river,' said Cernd, taking the first step onto the crumbling stonework and the group followed, Fritha sensing the general relief of those around her as they stepped up out of the marsh to finally have something solid underfoot.

The girl smiled. The view was quite beautiful from up there, the fens around them a lush jungle of greens broken here and there with pocks and slivers of dazzling white, the pools and rivers reflecting brilliantly as the sun sank low in the west, the dying light casting a golden hue over the rundown sandstone house before them. It had once been a rather grand building from the look of it, with four stout chimneys all along the roof and even a circular tower on the northern side, which now provided a fine roost for the local murder of crows.

'I'm going to see what's inside,' announced Fritha to the group, though few seemed to heed her, Jaheira nodding vaguely as she, Minsc and Cernd studied their map, using their vantage point to assess the path ahead. Meanwhile, Aerie and Nalia were occupied in the exact opposite, stood on the other side of the bridge gazing out across the marshland they had just crossed, Haer'Dalis stood on the wall next to them, craning his neck above the surrounding trees and claiming he could see the town. Fritha turned back to the house, though her departure was not unnoticed by everyone, it seemed.

'You cannot go alone, my lady,' a familiar voice called after her, heavy rattling footsteps already closing on her position. Fritha ignored him and opened the door to the shriek of rusted hinges.

'Hello, anyone here?'

As expected, no answer came and Fritha took a step inside. It certainly didn't look occupied, the cupboards and shelves that lined the walls all empty unless you counted cobwebs and dust, while the hearth was filled with cold grey ash, the woodpile next to it baring only a few miserable twigs, Fritha doing her best to ignore Anomen's presence as she moved further into the room.

Two more doors led from it, one in the wall opposite which she assumed went outside, another set to the right of her and slightly ajar. She could see another similar room beyond it, and Fritha was just moving to peer inside when the backdoor banged open. Fritha glanced up with a start as a middle-aged woman entered, her arms full of firewood that was soon clattering to the floor as she threw her hands up with a shrill cry.

'Oh, please, calm yourself,' Fritha soothed frantically, guilt welling with the memories of the old housekeeper at Isea's estate, 'I'm so sorry, we thought this house was empty.'

'What happens in here?' came another voice behind her and Fritha whirled to see Haer'Dalis peering around the front door and sending Anomen a suspicious look, 'Aerie said she thought she heard a shout.'

But the woman had already stopped screaming, a hand held to her chest as she caught her breath and Fritha was relieved to see she was actually smiling as she sank into a rickety old chair which was set before the unlit hearth.

'I- I am sorry, you just gave me a fright, miss. I should have locked the door, especially with those druids about, but my sons are out hunting and I do not like to think of them shut outside. As you can see, I cannot hear the door when I am at the back of the house.' She drew another deep breath, smoothed her apron and politely held a hand out to her, 'I am Saira, miss.'

Fritha smiled gratefully as she shook her hand, glad to see the woman was not angry at their intrusion. Though much older than her, she held a matronly beauty, her lined skin the rich dark brown of Calimshite tea, while her hair fell black and shiny about her shoulders from under the scarf she had tied over her head.

'Nice to meet you, madam,' Fritha smiled, kneeling to gather up the firewood that now scattered the floor as she made her introductions. 'I am Fritha and this is Anomen and Haer'Dalis. We have other companions outside as well; we are sent to investigate the druids on behalf of the town.'

Saira shook her head, clucking her tongue sadly.

'Ah, has it got so bad for them already? Those poor people. I wish you every speed then.'

Behind her, Fritha heard the squire clear his throat.

'Forgive my interest, madam, but I would ask what you are doing here. We were under the impression this building has been deserted for some time.'

The woman smiled ruefully. 'I am afraid our tale is a sad one, good sir. We did live quite happily in a farm just north of Trademeet not so long ago, but my husband died recently. I was not his first wife and his eldest son from his previous marriage inherited everything. We were tolerated there for a few days, but after that it was clear I and my sons were welcome in our house no longer; we are not of these lands, you see, and have always been distrusted because of it. I was very distressed, for we had little money and even fewer friends, but then one of my sons spoke of a deserted old house he had seen on his hunts in the southern swamps. With no other choice available to us we travelled south.'

The woman gestured about her, visibly brightening. 'What luck then, to find this house still empty and quite habitable for all the neglect. I felt as though the gods smiled on us still. I and my two sons moved in a tenday or so ago. As you can see, we have much work yet to do here -we are living mostly in the upper floors at the moment- but I do not believe it will be long before this place will feel as a home to us.'

'And have the druids not taken any interest in your residence?' questioned Haer'Dalis, the woman shaking her head mildly.

'Why, no. My sons said they have been warned a time or two whilst out hunting in the swamp, but they have not come to the house. Perhaps they have yet to realise we are here, and mistook my sons as men of the town, for I am very careful about when I light the fires.'

Fritha straightened to finally set the sticks onto the woodpile with a polite nod.

'Well, we are sorry again for startling you, madam, we shall leave you in peace –unless… well, Trademeet's in a bit of a state since the druid attacks began, I don't suppose you've enough food stored to let us buy some, have you?'

Fritha expected a regretful 'no', but to her surprise the woman beamed.

'Why, but of course! My sons are excellent hunters, and we have more than enough to spare you some. Come through, come through.'

She rose, eagerly bustling into the adjoining room, and Fritha left the two men to follow the woman, Saira throwing open a large chest set against the far wall, bending double as she searched through it.

'There you are,' she trilled, finally straightening to turn back to her with a smile, a few joints of cured meat in her hands.

But Fritha just stared back at her, frozen as she looked past the gift to notice the orange and black striped tail that was peaking out from beneath her skirts.

'You- you're-'

xxx

'So…' began Anomen after a moment of awkward silence. It was the first time he'd been alone with Haer'Dalis since their fight the two night's before and the squire was feeling a little uncomfortable, 'how is Aerie finding this day's travel?'

'Sorry?' Haer'Dalis questioned, looking more than confused and Anomen hastened to explain himself.

'Well, I merely ask because Nalia does not seem to be fairing particularly well and they are neither of them accustomed to the hardships of the soldier's life.'

Haer'Dalis laughed genially.

'Oh yes, I see now at what you drive, knightling. Aerie is bearing up well enough. It is as the raven once said; she is stronger than she would seem from first impressions.'

'Yes, quite,' Anomen agreed absently, recalling his own incredulity when he had realised the slight and stuttering elf was a member of a mercenary group.

'And how is the raven coping?' Haer'Dalis continued mildly, his tone all innocence, 'She seemed to have _more_ than lost her patience with the day earlier.'

Anomen felt himself flush, knowing exactly what Haer'Dalis was implying, and he was about to tell the bard to mind his own business when a scream cut him off. Anomen sprang for the door but Haer'Dalis was already ahead of him, the pair crashing though into next room only to stop.

Gone was the woman Saira and in her place towered what looked to be a tiger that had learnt to walk on its hind legs, a huge scimitar already in its hand, the creature looking almost ridiculous still wearing the half-torn remnants of the dress. It was the djinns' quarry, Ihtafeer.

With a speed that belied its awkward form, the rakshasa swung out at the girl before it, Fritha hastily parrying the blow, catching it clumsily on the edge on her own sword. A loud crack split the air, and both girl and creature stood frozen in surprise as they watched the blade of Fritha's sword arc across the room to land with a clatter at the tiefling's feet. For a split second, no one moved, when suddenly everything was happening at once, the creature drawing back its sword with a deafening roar, Fritha shouting a word Anomen hadn't heard outside of the roughest dockside taverns as she leapt backwards and it was only by her own natural agility that she was spared, the curved blade missing her by hair's breadth.

Haer'Dalis was racing to help her and Anomen followed, the small room seeming impossibly long as he watched Fritha frantically dodge another blow, the creature's blade missing her to shatter the door of the cabinet behind. Roars and shouts were coming from the room behind them as the others joined the battle, no doubt drawn by Fritha's scream and now fighting Ihtafeer's brothers, the creatures clearly coming to their sister's aid.

Fritha had just dodged another swing, the girl stumbling slightly as she leapt sideways into a low chest and the rakshasa looked as though it would finally have its chance when Haer'Dalis reached it with a shout. The creature whirled just in time to block the tiefling's swords though Anomen's mace was another matter, the squire swinging out with such a force it stung his hand even through his glove as the blow made contact with the creature's skull and Ihtafeer dropped like a stone.

Haer'Dalis moved quickly to check on the other room and their companions, but from the quiet murmur of voices, the squire could tell their battle was over as well and Anomen turned instantly to Fritha. Whether she had tripped or just sank to the floor by her own accord, the girl was there now, sat in amongst the splintered wood drawing deep breaths and smiling in a faint sort of way, both hands held spread over her chest as though she couldn't quite believe she was still whole.

'Are you hurt, my raven?' asked Haer'Dalis, walking back to them.

The girl shook her head, accepting the hand he proffered her and allowing him to help her stand.

'No, no, I'm fine. How are the others?'

'We are all unharmed in here,' called Jaheira from the other room and Fritha nodded.

'Good, that's good,' she sighed, still rubbing her abdomen absently as she leaned back against the cabinet behind her.

Anomen swallowed, his heart still rattling unpleasantly in his chest, stomach churning; he felt as though he'd just sprinted a league.

'Are you sure you are well, my lady? You look very pale.'

Fritha glanced to him, a certain steel creeping back in her manner which was both heartening and disappointing to see, her tone clipped as she answered him.

'As I said, Anomen, I'm fine. Spread out,' she continued more generally as she began to dust herself down, 'search the house, I want to know what these rakshasa have been up to since they took hiding in here. Did you lot hear that?'

Shouts of assent from the other room and Fritha turned to begin searching through the cabinet behind her. Haer'Dalis sent Anomen a wry smile.

'As it was said, they are stronger than they look.'


	46. Nature's wrath

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Nature's wrath **

Their search of the room revealed nothing though, bar the chest of cured meat that Ihtafeer had been so glad to present them with, and Fritha soon gave up, taking a joint of it with her as she, Anomen and Haer'Dalis rejoined the others.

Back in the main room, the bodies of two more rakshasa lay dead on the floor, dressed as woodsmen, their tawny fur matted here and there with blood. The air was hazy with disturbed dust, Nalia, Minsc and Cernd still searching through the room's chaos of cupboards and chests, though the three glanced up as they entered, Nalia immediately at her side.

'You are unhurt, dearest?'

'Yes, but my sword isn't -it broke on the first swing,' Fritha admitted with a snort of laughter. She was still feeling a touch shaken by the whole thing, truth be told, but there seemed little point in dwelling on it.

Nalia looked alarmed though, running her hands nervously over her arms and shoulders as though to assure herself she was still whole, while Minsc crossed the room to them as well, taking the two pieces of broken sword from her with a downcast expression.

'Oh, a sad thing it is, to lose one's weapon. '

'Well, rather it than me. Honestly dearest, I'm fine,' Fritha smiled, gently batting Nalia away and turning to Jaheira as the druid appeared on the stairs with Aerie, 'Find anything?'

Jaheira nodded grimly.

'Yes, a couple of chests filled with weapons and armour; all whole and showing no signs of any recent fight. You know of the appetites of these creatures? Rakshasa live on human flesh. I suspect the arms belonged to the unfortunate souls who came calling on this house, though whether they were druids or merely travellers I could not say; there are no remains, though the swamp would make them easy to dispose of.'

Fritha glanced down to the shank of cured meat she was holding, her stomach sinking unpleasantly.

'Oh, tell me this isn't what I think it is.'

'Do not worry, child,' assured Cernd, moving to take it from her and examine it more closely, 'it is not human. Wild pig, I think, by the look of it.'

He held it out to Jaheira, who descended to look it over as well and nod her agreement, the woman tearing a strip from it and touching it to her tongue only to remove it instantly and spit at their feet.

'As I thought, poisoned. I imagine it would have been undetectable once cooked though.'

Fritha sighed, relieved by their findings even if it did mean they were ration-less once more.

'That must be how they were catching most of their prey,' reasoned Aerie, 'They could offer the meat to travellers and then collect the bodies later. The poison probably doesn't harm rakshasa.'

'A meal for a meal; you could almost see it as a fair trade,' Haer'Dalis offered with a grin, Anomen and Aerie sending him the most appalled looks while Fritha tried not to laugh.

'Well, we should start to bed down for the night,' interrupted Jaheira with a frown, 'while you were inside, Minsc spotted a barn on an area of more solid ground just south of here. There are some steps down to it, so it was likely built at a similar time to this place. We can make camp in there.'

'What?' exclaimed Nalia suddenly, 'Why are we staying in a barn when we've a perfectly good house here?'

Jaheira sighed heavily. 'We cannot stay here, Nalia. Walls may provide shelter but they all so blind us. There are still druids abroad and it would be all too easy for them to sneak up and trap us within here should we stay.'

'But the rakshasa lived here as humans for over a tenday without any trouble.'

'We do not know that for sure, my lady,' said Anomen, his manner a lot gentler than it was usually, though its effect was rather wasted then, Nalia looking all set to argue the point and Fritha reluctantly stepped in.

'Nalia, dearest, we really can't stay here. I'm sure this barn will be fine once we've a fire lit.'

Nalia stared at her a moment but made no reply, the girl just shaking her head as she turned away, leaving Fritha with a pained look.

'Good. Well,' continued Jaheira stalwartly, 'someone should gather up that firewood, we may as well put it to some use. Minsc, could you take something from these rakshasa as proof of death? We will need Ihtafeer's head, but a paw will suffice from the other two, perhaps we can collect some sort of bounty on them.'

The man nodded, turning to take up the axe from the nearby woodpile and Jaheira glanced back to the girl next to her who was still wearing a hollow look.

'I am going to make a check of the surrounding area. Perhaps you can join me, Fritha; it never hurts to practise your scouting.'

The girl sent her a dull nod, not fooled for a moment, it seemed.

'Yes, fine, I'm coming.'

And together they left the house in a silence that lasted well into their walk, the women scouting down the rough steps to the edge of river, before circling around and moving back up onto the bridge to skirt through the woods at the back of the house. Jaheira halted in the dense undergrowth, knowing what she had to do and steeling herself for the task.

'Fritha.'

The girl stopped as well, glancing back to her questioningly, clearly under the impression she had seen something. Jaheira drew a breath.

'Fritha, I know you do not want to hear this-'

'Then don't say it,' Fritha cut in evenly, turning to resume her path and Jaheira sighed tersely, her reaction no easier to bear for all its predictability.

'This life is not for her, Fritha.'

'She's just still getting used to it is all! She was living in a _castle_ only two months ago!'

'Fritha,' Jaheira snapped, grabbing her arm to halt her, 'this is not just going to go away, you know, however much you ignore it! You must talk to Nalia.'

Fritha shook her off, plainly frustrated.

'I _have_ and she says she is _fine_! Look,' the girl reasoned, almost pleading, 'who isn't sick of camping in weather like this? You're making too much of it.'

Jaheira sighed, but pressed the point no further, following the girl as she set a swift pace back to the barn. It was a squat circular building of the same sandstone and red tile as the house. Its doors were gone, probably taken long ago for firewood or some other purpose, leaving the wide arched doorway open and Jaheira could see the others inside, sat in amongst the bushels of dried reeds that the place had once been used to store.

Fritha had been right. The building was almost hospitable in the blaze of the newly lit fire, the group gathered about it on the reed strewn floor while Haer'Dalis entertained them with what appeared to be an impression of Fritha breaking her sword, the tiefling swinging out only to do an amusing double-take and begin flailing wildly, though it was not something everyone was finding humorous.

'Will you stop that!' snapped Anomen, to a background of laughter, Fritha giggling more than anyone as she walked into the barn.

'Oh, give over, Anomen. No harm done and I imagine it must have looked pretty funny.'

He stared up at her, his face a mask in the flickering light of the fire.

'No,' he answered finally, his voice cold, 'it did not.'

Fritha opened her mouth again and from the look of her, she was more than willing to continue their previous quarrel, in front of everyone or not. Jaheira quickly stepped in.

'Well, your brush with death, however amusing, cannot be to everyone's tastes, Fritha. Now someone will have to go and collect more wood, there's not enough for the night there. And we'll need water as well, the nearby river looked stagnant, but I noticed an old pump at the far side of the house.'

Around her the group broke up, everyone moving off to their chosen tasks, leaving her and the girl alone once more.

'Fritha,' Jaheira began, wondering if she dared a return to their previous conversation, though Fritha clearly predicted this.

'Auril's breath, it's cold out there,' she sighed blithely, moving towards the fire and holding her hands as close to it as she could stand. Jaheira frowned but took the hint.

'Fritha, move back from there. You'll give yourself chilblains.'

The girl sent her a sullen look, shifting back slightly though Jaheira had the distinct impression it was only until her attention was diverted by Cernd, the druid's arms full of what looked to be misshapen cork disks that she recognised as a type of tree fungus.

'Here,' Cernd announced as he approached them, the man mildly pleased with himself from his tone, 'Dryad's Saddle. It is quite nutritious. We can use them up to supplement our rations.'

Jaheira watched as he placed his bag upon one of the bushels and set the mushrooms gently on top.

'Yes, and you've quite a haul… though I imagine it is much easier to find such when you already have an idea of where to look; why did you not mention you are already known here?'

Cernd straightened slowly as he answered and Jaheira had the impression he was delaying the moment when he would have to face her.

'Yes… perhaps I could have said something earlier but did not seem important, after all you do not need to see the seed to know the plant. This grove was where I first learnt the ways of the druid under Gragus. He was a kind and patient mentor and I was very happy here for a time.'

'And yet you left…'

The man shrugged mildly. 'I wished to see more of the land, all the wondrous diversity of Nature, and when a chance to serve the Grand Druid in the North arose I volunteered immediately. But what of you,' he smiled, genially changing the subject and Jaheira let him, 'this seems to be an interesting group you have found yourself travelling with, how did you meet them?'

'The girl, Fritha was the ward of an old friend, I took over her guardianship after he passed on when the iron crisis was a plague across these lands. As for the others… they are just people we met along the way who shared goals or ideals. We look now to raise monies to ensure the release of another of our company who has fallen foul of Athkatla's stringent magic laws.'

Cernd nodded slowly, grey eyes watching her carefully.

'A strange course for one who has chosen the path that you have. I would have thought the care of Nature as a whole would have taken priority over the service of merely _one _of her children.'

Jaheira gave a gesture somewhere between a nod and a shrug and turned away, his observance a little too incisive for her liking.

'We must all serve the balance as we see fit- Fritha!'

'But I'm COLD!'

But Jaheira was unmoved by her complaints, knowing the girl would feel a whole lot worse if her hands were covered in painful itchy lumps, and she distracted her with the task of preparing the evening meal once Anomen returned with the water, the girl astounding everyone by heating it with just a look.

Even with the mushrooms Cernd had found though, their rations were looking rather grim and it seemed as though the majority of their meal would consist of stale waybread and a vegetable broth that would be mostly water. That was until Minsc returned to the barn, a bloody linen bag in his hand which he opened to reveal the limp glistening bodies of a good dozen frogs for their evening meal, which everyone hailed a brilliant idea once over their initial repulsion. Well, nearly everyone.

'W-We're going to eat _frogs_?' cried Aerie, pausing in her peeling and looking no less than nauseated as she eyed the sodden bag.

'Do not fret, Aerie, they taste just as poultry,' assured Jaheira, passing the bag to the girl next to her.

'It's funny how people say that, isn't it?' continued Fritha cheerfully as she settled down next to the woman with her knife and began to clean the creatures, passing them to Jaheira to skewer and balance over the fire. 'I mean if they are to taste of anything it should surely be of frogs.'

Haer'Dalis glanced up from the two pieces of her sword that he had been examining to nod.

'Indeed, my raven, perhaps it is the other way round. _Frogs_ do not taste of poultry, perhaps _poultry_ tastes of frogs…'

Aerie looked horrified by the mere thought.

'Look at it this way,' reasoned Nalia to the elf, as she began slicing a battered old onion into the now boiling water, 'this would be considered a _delicacy_ in Sembia.'

Aerie said nothing, just continued peeling her rather soft potato, but by the expression on her face, she wouldn't be visiting _there_ anytime soon.

Across the fire, Haer'Dalis sighed, holding the broken sword up to the firelight with a frown.

'Well, I could try a charm to mend it, my raven, but I would not trust it in battle afterwards; still, if you wished to have it whole for some sentimental value…'

Fritha smiled but shook her head.

'Thank you, but you're all right. It's only a sword after all and I never could understand those people who got all attached to their weapons,' she shook her head with a frown, 'seemed a bit unhealthy. No, no, I'll just have to buy another one once we get back to Trademeet.'

'And what do you plan to use in the meantime,' questioned Jaheira and the girl sent her a cheeky smile.

'Well I've been working on my withering glare…' she offered, continuing with a sigh when it became clear Jaheira was not amused. 'Minsc,' here she nodded respectfully to the man in question, 'brought me a couple of swords from amongst the things the rakshasa had taken. A bit unwieldy by the look of them, but I'm sure one will do for the moment –unless you want to lend me one of yours, sparrow.'

All eyes turned to the tiefling but he shook his head, regretful but quite unashamed of his refusal.

'Alas, my raven, I would rather not. They serve me best as a pair, for Entropy and Chaos should go hand in hand.'

'Entropy and Chaos?' Fritha repeated, her voice shrill with incredulous amusement, 'You named your swords _Entropy and Chaos_?'

'Oh, stop laughing, just because you are not- not _insightful_ enough to appreciate it,' snapped Aerie in sharp response to the bard's deeply affronted look.

'Save your breath to cool your porridge, Aerie,' retorted Nalia, the girl quick to her defence and Fritha felt a pleasant jolt in her stomach. She sent the bard an apologetic grin.

'Oh, no, you misunderstand me; I'm quite taken with the idea. I could name all my things too!' And with a flurry of nimble fingers she spun the knife she held with a flourish, 'Oh vegetables, quail and pray mercy at its name: Rindbane!'

Nalia laughed for the first time all evening and Fritha beamed, the mood of the group somewhat lifted as they ate their strange hodgepodge of a meal together, the dusk bringing with it a warmer, albeit damp, weight to the breeze, the air thrumming with the chirrup of crickets, the sound mixing almost melodically with the distant croaking of frogs at the riverside.

Aerie drew in a long breath. She was supposed to be practising her embroidery thought she was currently distracted watching the moths play above the fire, the air around her infused with the scent of the rich damp earth; the fens were quite a pleasant place when you didn't have to hike through them. Aerie glanced to the camp about her, most of the others just sat quietly enjoying the peace of the place, Fritha having another lesson on Rashemi from Minsc, while Nalia had made a start on one of the books they had bought. Aerie smiled, laying down her embroidery to catch the girl's eye.

'How is the story?'

Nalia smiled. 'Quite good, but the plot is a little clichéd. The heroine has just fallen from her horse and twisted her ankle in the _very_ same forest where the hero happens to live. I'm expecting him to make a convenient appearance any page now.'

'It's always something like that, isn't it?' Fritha began thoughtfully to no one in particular, gesturing to them causally with her stylus, 'An ankle, or wrist, or knee; something immobilising, but not physically marring. I mean, the heroine never trips over and breaks her _nose_, or falls from her horse only to get her foot caught in the stirrup and be dragged through two thickets and a shallow puddle before her timely rescue.'

Anomen snorted noisily, trying to hide it in a cough, and Aerie suspected she was grinning at the exact same thing, an image of Fritha coming unbidden to her mind, stood bruised and muddied, her already wild hair filled with leaves.

'Well, do not get any ideas for tomorrow; I doubt there are any gallant heroes around here to step in and rescue you,' commented Jaheira dryly, ignoring Haer'Dalis and Anomen's affronted looks to rise and add more wood to the fire and Fritha sprang to her feet to stand next to her, the girl's voice coming high and breathy, one hand held against her forehead as though she was constantly on the brink of a swoon.

'Oh, thank the gods you found me! I was just riding through this forest on my way to the nearest Illmateran shrine to read stories to the orphans, when I was thrown from my horse. A fall that has left my hair and face thankfully untouched, though has inconveniently sprained my ankle. I fear- I fear you shall have to carry me!' she cried, throwing herself into the druid's arms.

'I fear _not_,' the woman snorted over their laughter, dumping her charge unceremoniously onto the reeds.

'You wound me, druid,' Fritha sighed, gasping slightly as she shifted and began rubbing her lower back vigorously. 'Ooo, you have as well. Our flirtation's left more than just my heart bruised.'

'Fritha!' Jaheira laughed, aiming a kick at her before crouching down to inspect the damage. 'Ah, you landed on a stone,' she confirmed, lifting the girl's tunic and shirt to examine the red mark that was blossoming on the small of her back.

'Landed? Yes, with a little _help_,' Fritha mumbled, hissing as the druid laid a hand over it.

'It is just bruised, stop making a fuss,' dismissed Jaheira though Aerie thought she looked a touch guilty. Fritha was muttering darkly under her breath as she shifted back to her books, Haer'Dalis moving to join her and soon it was all forgot as the two sank deep in talk.

Fritha was showing the tiefling one of the odes she had transcribed verbatim from Minsc earlier, the girl halfway through an attempt to translate it, though Haer'Dalis had succeeded in distracting her with discussion of the actual prose.

'Well, it seems quite complicated,' the girl explained with a grave frown, 'the poems use the tonal qualities of the language and run like songs. Therefore, not only must you think of a line's rhythm, but also its tone and inflection.

'Fascinating!' said Haer'Dalis.

_Dull_, thought Aerie and bit back a sigh, instantly cross at herself. The more time that passed the more it became clear that her little white lie about being a devotee of such things was one that she would reap tenfold.

She did like the theatre, that itself was no lie. The thrill of being sat in some darkened playhouse, watching as a story played out before your eyes; the music and the costumes and the sheer energy of it all.

But it was becoming increasingly apparent that acting itself just really wasn't for her. She felt too self-conscious stood pretending to be something she was not, and though she rather enjoyed reading through the occasional scene with the bard when they were alone together, she had _no_ desire to do the same before an entire theatre.

She knew what Haer'Dalis thought -it was obvious from the roles he chose for her- that some grand actress hid inside this timid shell and had to be brought to blossom. But the truth was, meek though she still may have seemed when compared to him, Aerie did not feel even half as timorous as she had in the circus, even with all the danger that constantly seemed to surround them and this grand actress was refusing to be coaxed out simply because she was not there.

She sighed slightly and opened the bag at her side, staring down at the corner of the green volume she could see nestled in amongst her books and clothes. The plays of Erudis. Something Haer'Dalis had gone to a lot of trouble to find for her, and she knew she should just like it for that alone. But the fact remained, she would have much preferred some jewellery or perfume or something slightly more personal from the one she called 'love', and ironic though it had been, she had had to do quite a bit of acting when he had presented it to her, as she'd nodded and smiled and pretended to be as pleased as he was.

She glanced to the man again, still sat with Fritha, both laughing as they poured over the parchment she held. Aerie smiled faintly, considering how handsome he looked in the firelight. Aficionado of the theatre or not, her affection for _him_ was certainly no act.

Aerie shook her head, resolved to finally get on with some embroidery when next to her Cernd shifted where he sat, the terse sigh that accompanied the movement seemingly unnoticed by all but she.

'A-Are you still in pain?' she asked quietly, 'Lord Coprith said you were set about quite badly by the townsfolk.'

But he merely shook his head, easing himself into a more comfortable position.

'No, no, child, it is nothing.'

Aerie frowned. 'Well, I am glad for that, though do wish you would stop referring to me as _child_; why, I'm probably four times your age!'

Cernd stared at her a moment, seemingly taken aback, before a smile was pulling at his mouth and he was chuckling quietly, hissing slightly as his ribs shook, and she could not help but join him, as amused as she was embarrassed by her outburst.

'Forgive me, Aerie, I meant it as no reflection on your maturity. You are a child of Nature, as are we all, though I note a special affinity within you.'

Aerie smiled, quite flattered he had given the matter any consideration at all. She shrugged mildly, letting her eyes linger on the doorway to the gloaming marsh beyond.

'There is a wild order to nature, an ever-changing beauty that I cannot help but find peace in. Even here -though I will admit I must look harder than usual.'

Cernd smiled slightly, sending her a measured look.

'Yes, Nature's beauty is not always apparent, though in some of her aspects it is all too easy to see.'

Aerie flushed, unsure as to why she felt so suddenly awkward.

'Yes, well, I, ah-'

'And what is this?' interrupted a smooth voice above them and she started, glancing up to find Haer'Dalis stood at her side, the man sinking to sit next to her with a smile. 'My dove, you're as pink as a camilla. I know there is a chill to the air, but you should not sit so close to the fire,' he scolded gently, putting an arm about her, and she felt her stomach stir at the dark look he sent the druid, shamefully pleased by his jealously. Though not the way she would like it to be expressed, it _was_ nice to know he cared.

xxx

It was early, Anomen guessing the time at about an hour before the dawn by the grey milky look to the clear arc of sky he could see beyond the barn. He had been awake for the last hour or so, sat at the doorway and huddled under his blankets and cloak as he took the last watch.

But early as it was, he was not the only one awake from the sighs and stirring of those about him and, by the steady snoring from the huge pile of blankets in the far corner, he guessed Minsc was the only one of them who had managed to remain asleep. The fire had already gone out by the time Cernd had awoken Anomen for his watch, their meagre supply of wood gathered from the marsh quickly running out, though it had still been too dark to gather any more and Anomen knew from experience that attempting to burn the dried reeds would produce smoke enough to suffocate them. It had been very fortunate they had found that barn to shelter in, the thick walls holding in most of the heat from their small fire, though even then, the night had been a difficult one.

He glanced to the cold ashes before him. It was just light enough now to venture out to try and find some more wood and he was just mustering the will to leave his post when Fritha stirred, the girl sitting up still wrapped in her blankets, her hair tousled; though for all that, she looked wide-awake.

'Oh I give up. I've just been lying there for the last hour waiting for the morning.'

'So have I,' sighed Aerie, sitting as well while the bard stirred at her side, and Anomen watched as the others began to rouse themselves too, Minsc rolling on to his back to yawn widely.

'By Baervar, it's so cold.'

Cernd nodded, stretching out his shoulders. 'Yes, Nature can be harsh as well as nurturing; though such extremes are a part of Her wonder.'

Haer'Dalis sent Anomen an exasperated look and rolled his eyes, and the squire had to do his best not to laugh.

'I can't feel my hands,' murmured Nalia absently, the girl flexing her long white fingers with a sort of distracted hopelessness.

'Gods!' Fritha cried, pulling her foot closer with wide eyes, 'I think I've got frostbite- oh no, wait, it's just dirt.' The girl laughed, some of the others managing a smile though Nalia sent her a blank look. 'Oh, come on, that was pretty funny,' Fritha cajoled brightly, taking up Nalia's hands and placing them somewhere within the depths of her blankets, a shiver travelling her narrow frame, 'Goodness, dearest, you _are_ cold.'

Nalia said nothing, just shifted closer to the girl, laying her forehead upon her shoulder as though she would return to sleep where she sat.

'Someone needs to go and collect more wood,' muttered Jaheira, finally sitting as well and rubbing her bleary face briskly.

Anomen shifted again, preparing to haul himself up. 'I shall go, I was planning to anyway.'

'Don't bother,' yawned Fritha, 'You won't find any dry wood this early and it'll be an hour before the fire's properly hot anyway.'

'Sorry?' cried Nalia, snatching her hands back to straighten abruptly. Fritha avoided her eye.

'If we break camp now, we can warm up as we walk.'

'She is right,' admitted Jaheira reluctantly.

But Aerie looked about as enthused by this plan as Nalia did.

'But what about breakfast?'

Fritha shrugged. 'You wouldn't usually eat this early anyway, would you? We can stop for breakfast once the sun's up.'

'Yes, yes,' agreed Minsc with his usual amiability, the man sat in his bedding and looking quite well rested, 'Boo says this is sensible; we would do the same in Rashemen.'

Fritha nodded once, making to rise.

'Exactly. Well, come on then,' she urged when no one else moved and it was to a background of sullen muttering that the group rose and quickly broke camp.

They were walking now, the marsh eerily quiet about them, a light mist still hanging wraith-like in the trees. The two druids were leading with the ranger, Nalia and Aerie a short way behind them with the bard, the girls huddled together and looking mutinous, while Fritha brought up the back of the group with him, the girl seemingly resolved in her decision, however unpopular it had made her, and still pointedly ignoring him. Anomen shifted under his heavy pack and nearly slipped, the ground all the wetter for the morning's mists. Fritha glanced to him, wordlessly turning back once she was assured he was fine and he felt his stomach tighten, the man steeling himself to finally break the silence between them.

'Are you cold, my lady?'

'A _bit_,' she conceded, though the weather had nothing on her tone. Anomen swallowed dryly, turning back to the path ahead as he felt his face burn.

'I must apologise for my behaviour yesterday, I should not have spoken to you like that.'

Next to him, he heard the girl sigh.

'No, you shouldn't, but I was angry about something else as well and you got more than your fair share of my temper. Forget about it.'

He smiled ruefully at her words, though he was glad they were back on good terms; he did not like it when they argued.

'I would that I could forget, my lady. I have been dwelling upon what Sir Ryan said of my test, of how it will be soon; it creeps ever closer and I feel no more ready than when was first squired. My temper is just as wretched, I am just as full of this- this _anger _as I ever was, perhaps more so since Moira was taken…'

Fritha went to speak, but he cut her off with a shake of his head.

'But, such is no excuse and I will not hear otherwise. I was taking my frustrations out on you and only when you told me what I have known all along. You are right, I should have spoken to Sir Ryan about this long ago, I- I just could not bring myself to admit it to him. It was by his kindness I was allowed to enter the Order as a squire in the first instance, I could not bear to tell him of this failing and have him know I am unworthy of the honour he bestowed upon me.'

He glanced down to find Fritha sending him a measured look.

'Well, Sir Ryan could possibly _think_ you are unworthy, but he could not _know_ you're unworthy unless you are… How we view ourselves can be as, if not more important as how others perceive us, Anomen.'

Anomen turned away, feeling uncomfortable and casting about for a change of subject.

'So… you said you were cold, my lady?'

The girl sighed again, though she smiled as well. 'It's Fritha, and I'm _freezing_. But since this madness was my idea, it is only right I suffer along with the rest of you.'

'I believe it was the most sensible suggestion, given the circumstances. It _is_ warmer when you are moving.'

She snorted, her breath misting in the bitter air.

'Maybe for you, but I'm cold to my bones. Poor bones. Your's are all right, they've got all that muscle keeping them warm. All mine have are skin and about four layers. No substitute.'

Anomen took a moment to reply to this; he was rather surprised she'd noticed.

'Yes, but I suppose such hardships are to be expected in this path we have chosen to walk.'

Fritha laughed, gesturing about them.

'Oh yes, and I suppose this is what you imagined when you daydreamed about your life as a knight when a boy in the seminary, is it?'

Anomen smiled, dipping his head in acquiescence.

'I conceded that perhaps I did not imagine it quite like this. And what of you, my lady? What idle reverie would take you from your errands in the library?'

'Are you sure you want to know? It had nothing to do with _halting the tides of chaos._'

He smiled dryly, remembering the gloom of a sewer tunnel and their argument so long ago.

'I will take that risk.'

Fritha laughed lightly. 'I just wanted to travel really, see the world, although my ideas and the reality deviated slightly. I had a very pleasant fantasy that I would sleep every night in a bed with fine linen sheets and all my travelling would be done in sunshine.'

Anomen glanced to her.

'But you are happy in what you do now?'

She shrugged vaguely.

'Well, I suppose. But it would be nice to travel on my own terms. Choose where I wanted to go and not have to fight something when I get there. Or get up really early in the mornings and have to walk all day when I'd just much rather stay in bed.'

'Can we stop yet?' Aerie called back to them hopefully, a hand pointing eastwards, 'The sky over there is pink…'

Fritha sighed crossly. 'Can you _see_ the sun?'

Aerie turned back to their path with a disgruntled look and Fritha shook her head, tiredly amused.

'Gods, I'd hate to travel with me.'

'When we find Imoen, will she travel with you?'

Fritha glanced to him, looking mildly surprised he'd asked.

'You know what? I don't know. Imoen and I didn't really have a choice of things to begin with. She may want to return to Candlekeep or join one of the mage schools, I'm not sure.'

'And you, my lady?'

'More travelling, I suppose, but somewhere warmer.' She bit back a sigh as her foot disappeared into a deceptively solid-looking patch of bog with an unpleasant squelch. 'And dry. Definitely dry.'

Anomen smiled faintly, about to reply when another voice cut him off.

'Halt, stand where you're at, outsiders!'

The flurry of movement around him as weapons were drawn, Fritha heaving out her own clumsy blade, while Anomen drew his mace, all watching as five men stepped from the mists to surround them, each accompanied by some cat or wolf and one even followed by the shaggy lumbering form of a bear.

'Oh, Hells…' breathed Fritha, one of the men stepping forward from the others, black haired and sloe-eyed, his blade glinting wetly as the air condensed upon it.

'You are trespassing on sacred ground and your careless meandering will go unheeded no longer!'

Cernd stepped forward as well, eyes blazing behind his composed countenance.

'We trespass nowhere, Lynd, this land is free for all who wish to travel it and travel it we will; we have business with Faldorn.'

'Cernd?' cried one of the druids, some instantly looking wary, while others seemed almost hopeful. Lynd, however, looked furious.

'I care not one whit for your business, dog; this grove is under our protection-'

'And a sterling job you're doing as well,' snorted Fritha with disdain, 'Three rakshasa living here right under your nose.'

Lynd adjusted his grip on his blade as those behind him began to mutter amongst themselves, his eyes gaining a hungry look as though he would have liked nothing better than to kill her where she stood.

'She speaks truly,' continued Cernd, 'Faldorn presses her fight to the town while her own grove suffers and I would speak with her about it.'

'And what good will it do? You know she had bonded with the grove, Cernd,' called a one of the younger men and Lynd shot him a quelling glare.

'Watch your tongue, Rias; you will pay a high price for any disloyalty.'

'_Enough!_' barked Cernd suddenly, almost trembling in his anger, 'I have been patient, but I have asked you take us to Faldorn twice now _and I will not ask again!_'

Everyone looked wary now, even Lynd, one of the men swallowed nervously, cautiously approaching their leader.

'Come on, Lynd, where is the harm? He represents the Grand Druid; Faldorn may wish to meet with him.'

Lynd just stared at Cernd, his loathing evident before he nodded stiffly and turned on his heel. 'Fine, we go.'

And the group set off once more, though much increased in number, the druids walking in amongst them now, their creatures prowling about the edge of the party, ever-watchful. Cernd swallowed, his blood still roaring in his ears as his mind alternately cursed and calmed him. He knew he should not have lost control like that and he felt almost sick as he considered what could have happened, what he had been moments away from.

Lynd stirred at his side, the only one of them with his blade still drawn though Cernd knew the druid would make no move against him now; Faldorn would have that pleasure.

They were at the head of the group and behind him could sense the others following them, all nervous and chary, Aerie's voice quiet but audible.

'I knew we should have had breakfast when we had the chance.'

'Oh, stop whining,' he heard Fritha sigh, 'it's not as though we'd anything nice to eat anyway.' A pause, the sound of her rummaging in her bag before- 'Here.'

Next to him, Lynd smiled broadly.

'Oh, you've allied yourself with a proper sort, haven't you, Cernd? I can see why you'd fit in with these freaks though.'

Cernd felt his jaw clench, refusing to be baited. 'Save your bile, Lynd, you're words are nothing to me.'

A contemptuous snort. 'Ah yes, the same superior Cernd; you always were one of Gragus's favoured. But don't forget that he has gone and _we_ know what you are, what you're capable of…'

Cernd swallowed, his eyes fixed unseeing on the path ahead of them as they walked, though he said nothing in his defence. How could he, when part of him knew Lynd was right?


	47. Come into the garden

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. Nor do I own 'Say not the Struggle Naught availeth' by A H Clough.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Come in to the garden**

They walked through the morning without halting, the marshland slowly giving way to forests once more as they travelled further north and they reached the grove at about high sun. The group paused for a moment before a place where the trees seemed to grow even more thickly, the only visible path onwards between two large ash trees, the branches bowing together to almost make an archway, their escort of druids pressing in about them as they passed beneath it. Cernd had, of course, lived there at one time and knew what to expect, though his companions were predictably astounded as they crossed this unseen boundary.

'It- it's so warm,' breathed Aerie, the elf gazing about her in awe and Cernd smiled, her wonder pleasant to see even under such grim circumstances. He glanced up, sunlight streaming through the leafy canopy, a clear blue sky visible here and there as the trees swayed in the warm breeze.

'It is a boon of Nature,' explained Rias with a smile of his own, 'The grove and the area around it remain as spring, that we might always have a place here to live in close harmony with the natural world.'

'Quiet back there,' snapped Lynd and silence descended over the group once more as they carried on their path, some even shedding their cloaks as they went, another half an hour's walk bringing them at last to the heart of the grove. They were brought to a halt on the edge of the large clearing and Cernd drew in a deep breath; it was all just as he remembered. An outcrop of mossy rocks stood at the far side, crystal clear water bubbling up from the spring within to cascade down into a small pool, a narrow stream leading from it to snake off into the forests they had just passed through. While to the east were the ruins that had stood there from time immemorial, a circle of huge square blocks in blue-grey stone, each carved with images and characters of some long dead tongue and bordering a deep pit where Cernd knew the ritual challenges were traditionally held.

And there, presiding over it all on a twisting throne of still-growing birch saplings sat a figure, her plain features glowing with all of Nature's beauty: Faldorn.  
It looked as though the whole of the grove had been informed of their arrival, druids stood about the edge of the clearing in small knots, some Cernd recognised, others he did not, their quiet muttering humming in the air, though all fell silent as their leader spoke.

'So you have come,' Faldorn began, surveying their group slowly through a curtain of dark unkempt hair before her eyes came to rest upon him and Cernd straightened under her gaze. 'Ah, Cernd… I told Lynd to kill you if you set foot within a league of the grove, but you always did have a way of getting around people, didn't you?'

'Unlike you, Faldorn,' he answered coldly, casting about him pointedly. 'The grove looks much reduced in number. Tell me, where is Kaeren, and Umrith, and Ged? Have you had them murdered along with the people of Trademeet?'

'They fine as far as we know, Cernd,' came a deep voice and Cernd glanced across the clearing to find Pauden in amongst the others, leant against a tree, his leopard sat at his side. 'They left with a few others soon after Gragus fell. They did not agree with the path we were to take. I believe they are living as best they can in the marshland east of here now.'

Faldorn shot Pauden an angry look.

'They were fools just as Gragus was; their weakness was a disease that we are better off without!'

Cernd drew himself up, trying to will a calmness to his heart even as he felt the anger welling within him.

'Do not speak of Gragus! He trusted you and you used such to place a dagger in his back!'

'I challenged him within the bounds of the ancient laws and won leadership fairly. I am Great Druid now, Cernd; an abhorrence such as you is not worthy to even draw breath in my presence!'

Cernd felt his temple twitch and took a moment to draw a few deep breaths; the worst thing he could do would be to transform there, before them all and give credence to her claims.

'Yes, and what do you do with your title now you have it? There is only one abhorrence here, Faldorn, and it is your abuse of this grove! I know of the bonding. Even now you destroy the subtle balance here to serve your own desires for power.'

'This is the will of Nature!' she screeched, her dark eyes alight with a sudden wildness, 'The Earth Mother feeds me that I may fight for her. Trademeet is a blight upon this land and I will see it in ruins! And as for you, we here in the grove know of your true _vile_ nature, but do your new companions know about the wolf they have so willingly welcomed in to their flock? He,' she shrieked as she threw an accusatory hand at him, 'is a _werewolf_.'

Cernd swallowed, waiting for the outcry. But nothing came and he risked a glance to the woman next to him, Jaheira looking from him to Fritha, the girl just shrugging indifferently as she turned back to Faldorn.

'And? He is certainly not the first one I have met. Some I have known were very nice and others were quite the opposite… just like people can be, if you think about it.' Fritha smiled slightly. 'I'm afraid you're going to have to come up with something a little more scandalous than that, if you're going to impress us, Faldorn.'

Cernd watched as the colour drained from Faldorn's face, her anger seemingly beyond words as her terrible revelation was proved mere triviality.

'Kill them!' she barked suddenly, Lynd already moving to obey as Cernd shouted for him to halt.

'Wait! Under the laws that govern all druids I demand the right to challenge you!'

Faldorn laughed scornfully. 'You are an abhorrence here, you have no rights.'

'Perhaps not, but I do!

Fritha snapped her eyes to the woman next to her, Jaheira stood tall and glorious in her anger, her eyes blazing as she continued.

'I, too, am a druid, of the Osif Woods conclave in Tethyr and I challenge your leadership of this grove as is my right.'

Faldorn stared down at her, her look measured and calculating before she nodded once.

'As you will it. I revel in the violence of the Challenges and I welcome this chance to end your miserable life.' She cast her gaze over the rest of their group, 'Know that anyone who steps in to interrupt the fight will be killed instantly.'

Fritha nodded her agreement as those about her muttered theirs, though she knew for a fact that if Jaheira was about to fall there was no way she would just be standing by to watch, whatever Faldorn's threats. The druid rose from her throne, Lynd and a few others moving to attend her as members of their own group pressed in around Jaheira, Minsc helping her out of her armour while Cernd kept up a constant mutter at her ear on Faldorn's fighting style. Fritha sent the woman what she hoped was an encouraging smile through the press before turning away, moving over to the pit's edge, the old stones still bearing the dark stains of previous fights.

With Faldorn invulnerable outside of these challenges and Cernd unrecognised as a druid there, this was really the best way this could have turned out, and yet…

'Are you well, Fritha?' came a voice behind her and she turn back to find Nalia watching her, the girl's concern evident.

'Ah, you know,' Fritha shrugged. They both knew the worries that came with knowing a friend was soon to be in danger and she saw no need to voice them, instead changing the subject to one in which she could perhaps be of help, 'Are you still cross with me about this morning?'

Nalia shook her head sadly. 'No, dearest, I never was. I am angry at myself more than anything. I always thought of myself as such a strong person, but these last few days have shown me I'm really just like every other cosseted noble.'

'You're not, don't say that,' Fritha cried, hating to hear her sounding so defeated, 'This life, the travelling and the weather, it gets to everyone, you know. The only reason I'm not whinging a bucketful every single moment is because I have to set a good example for the rest of you.'

Nalia smiled slightly, her manner becoming graver as she went to speak again

'Fritha, I-'

'Come,' shouted Faldorn, the woman already in the pit, a thick quarterstaff in hand. 'It is time!'

Fritha turned from Nalia, her stomach clenching painfully as she watched Jaheira descend the uneven stone steps to join the shadow druid. Fritha didn't usually think of Jaheira as short. Indeed she was tall for a half-elf, but even so, she looked very small as she moved into the pit below her, Faldorn standing at least half a head taller. The other druids and her own companions had gathered about the pit to watch as well and Jaheira glanced up, scanning their faces, Fritha smiling slightly as she found hers and the druid gave her nod of acknowledgement before the woman dropped her gaze back to Faldorn, rolling her shoulders and readying her own iron-bound staff as she waited for Lynd to give the sign.

'And… begin!'

There was a flurry of movement, Faldorn instantly on the attack, bringing her staff up sharply to strike out at Jaheira's chest, Jaheira dodging backwards and raising her own stave to push the blow to the side before lunging towards her with a thrust of her own, the butt of her weapon narrowly missing Faldorn's jaw as the shadow druid drew back and Faldorn looked mildly surprised. She had clearly thought this would be an easy victory and Fritha felt her hopes rise slightly at her over-confidence, the two women now circling warily, each waiting for the other to make the next move. Faldorn broke first, the air filling with the loud _crack_, _crack_, _crack_ and the gasps and shouts of the crowd as the pair traded blows, each trying to land a hit, Fritha only half-aware of those around her as she watched them fight; Minsc shouting in Rashemi, Aerie watching everything through splayed fingers.

Jaheira blinked the sweat from her eyes, trying not to let their sting distract her as she watched the women opposite for any slight movement that would herald an attack, the women circling each other once more. She had been taught to fight by the druids of her own conclave from a very early age and had practically grown up with a staff in her hand. But Faldorn's skill was exceptional as well, the power behind her blows more than a match for Jaheira's own agility and the druid could feel herself growing tired.

Faldorn struck out at her again, Jaheira moving to parry the blow, catching it awkwardly against the lower portion of her staff only for Faldorn to quickly redirect the swing, and pain exploded through her leg as it connected with her knee.

Jaheira stumbled, knowing that her ability to dodge any further attacks was all but finished; if the fight didn't end now all would be lost, and she followed through on her stumble, feigning a much greater injury, the druid staggering forward a step as though she was about to fall to her knees and pretending to catch her weight on her staff. A hush seemed to fall over the crowd as Faldorn raised her stave for the finishing blow, and Jaheira caught a glimpse of Fritha in the sea of faces above her, the girl resolute in her fear, her sword already half-drawn, though her intervention was not needed. Jaheira suddenly adjusted her weight to spring forward, her knee screaming as she smashed the end of her staff into Faldorn's throat, the woman's head snapping backwards as she fell dead.

It was as though a sigh of relief shuddered through the land, some dark weight Jaheira had not noticed before suddenly lifted from her heart and the grove about her looked all the more beautiful for it. She leant back against the pit's side breathing heavily and there was a rush for the steps as her companions all moved at once, racing to her side, Fritha instantly leaping over the wall above to land lightly next to her.

'Ah! You won! You won!' she cried, overjoyed and clearly unconcerned about any possible treachery from Lynd and the others.

'Fritha, calm down, you-'

But any further admonishments were lost as the girl flung her arms about her neck and she was swamped in a elated hug. Jaheira smiled in spite of herself returning the embrace, and for a moment her worries were forgotten too, everything well in the world.

xxx

'Ah, I'm in heaven,' sighed Aerie from where she was sat reclined against the broad trunk of a beech tree a little way back from the stream's edge, the elf supposedly mending one of Minsc's shirts though she looked to be doing little more than enjoying the sunshine at that moment in time. Minsc himself was sat a short way further along the bank, laughing and talking with Fritha who was stood in the stream itself, her trousers rolled up above her knees as she rinsed a tunic, their chatter an unintelligible mixture of Rashemi and the local Chondathan.

Nalia smiled faintly, giving the pot before her another languid stir with the stick she had found, slowly agitating the mixture of clothes and water within and engulfing her with the fresh sharp scent of soap.

It had been Fritha's idea. They had made camp in a smaller glade a short way from the main clearing, Aerie's talk whilst they were doing so of having nothing clean to wear after so many days of travelling prompting Fritha into organising some, what she had termed, 'well-overdue laundry'. And so the four of them, for Anomen had already disappeared off into the forests and Haer'Dalis had returned to the main clearing to study the ruins there, had gathered up Jaheira's cooking pot, Fritha's soap and all the clothes they could carry and made for the stream, Fritha leading them almost to the edge of the grove before they'd stopped and begun their work.

Nalia dropped her attention again to the pot before her. She knew she should probably be stirring it with a bit more vigour for the best results, but after last few days, it was just so pleasant to be there, warm and dry and comfortable, that she couldn't quite muster the will to do anything more than sit and enjoy their surroundings. She glanced to Fritha, the instigator of this industry, the girl stood in the stream with the much more arduous task of actually washing and rinsing the soapy clothes Nalia was passing to her in batches. Though for all that, her friend was showing the work much more enthusiasm than she was, the ranger seemingly telling her names of the clothes in Rashemi as she went.

'And this one?'

'That I think would be a _kozulk_, though we have a longer kind of tunic too, usually lined with fleece which we would call _schrod'ka_.'

'Hmm, _kozulk_. Oh, and look at that, a hole in the sleeve –What's sleeve, Minsc?'

'_Rekif.'_

'And button?'

'_Geyt._'

'Ooo, I like that one. _Geyt_, _geyt…_ What about hem?'

'Hem? What is this?'

'The bit that's turned inside to keep the open edge neat. See?'

'Ah, _orsac_, I am thinking… I am man of swords, young Fritha, not sewing, I do not know these things in either tongue.'

'All right, all right; what about… soap?'

Nalia smiled, giving the pot before her another lazy poke, the clothes within squelching in the cloudy water, the sound bringing back unwanted memories of the marshland they had just left; the marshland they would once more be trudging through tomorrow. Her smile faded. It was as though a cloud had suddenly moved across the sun, a melancholy dread filling her as she thought of their journey to come, of their walk back to Athkatla, of a whole winter of this misery.

She was glad to be helping people, of course, putting an end to bandit groups and saving towns, but it all felt so indirect. Trademeet was no longer under attack, yes, but children were still left hungry and injustices still prevailed for the common citizen. Something more had to be done; something deeper had to change within the very structure of their society.  
Nalia sighed, feeling her plans were all pointless anyway. She had no way of implementing them from where she was then; no path outside the one laid before her.

_There is always your keep…_

Nalia felt her face flush and dipped her head lest anyone notice. She never thought of her keep outside of guilty daydreams, a warm thought for when she lay unsleeping in those bitter nights of camping. But still the idea lingered and grew. If only there was some way of getting her keep back then she could really set about changing things for the better! And she could extend this aid to her friends as well. She would gladly have them all there with her, her aunt's sensibilities be dammed, and they would always have somewhere safe and comfortable to stay while they made plans for their next expedition. Her keep was only a good day's travel from the city proper; close enough for Fritha's theatre and any searches for work.

Nalia sighed again, giving the clothes before her a despondent stab. But it was all merely a dream, just as she had assured Fritha days ago. Isea would not be tried for months, even if the authorities had found enough evidence to do so. And then he would have to be found guilty and_ then_,the courts would have to rule in favour of restoring her keep to _her_, Lord de'Arnise's wayward daughter. In her mind, Nalia saw an image of herself stood before the magistrates to plead her case, her robes muddy and travel-worn, leaves sticking from her dirty hair and she couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry.

'Well, what's this?' came a voice before them and Nalia swallowed both to glance up and see Haer'Dalis stroll into the clearing, a leather-bound folio under his arm, 'Our leader has turned laundress! _She looked so neat and nimble O, a-washing of her linen O_,' he sang brightly and Fritha laughed.

'Yes, not quite caterpillar to butterfly, is it?' she grinned, straightening to push damp curls from her face with her forearm and Nalia couldn't have disagreed more. 'It's very enjoyable though,' Fritha continued blithely, 'you can lend a hand if you like, sparrow.'

Haer'Dalis smiled and shook his head. 'I believe my skills will be better employed elsewhere, my raven, though I would happily surrender you a pair of tunics if you can spare the soap.'

Fritha glanced to Nalia who nodded once and the girl turned back to him with a shrug.

'All right then, hoy them over.'

Haer'Dalis tossed her the clothes with a smile, moving to gently stroke Aerie's head as he sat next to her, taking a moment to kiss her lightly. Nalia had noticed the bard was paying Aerie attention of more affectionate nature lately and she wondered if Cernd's addition to their group wasn't to blame. Aerie certainly looked to be enjoying the change though, the girl glowing as he finally drew back and opened his folio to begin drawing.

Fritha was already back at work, bent double as she rinsed something, the girl catching her watching to send her a friendly wink and Nalia smiled slightly; whatever happened in the future, at least she would always have this.

xxx

Jaheira smiled to herself, closing her eyes and making no move to duck as she felt the leaves of a low branch brush her face, the lingering ache in her knee doing nothing to mar her feelings of contentment as she walked through the trees, Cernd at her side. The others of their group had left soon after Faldorn's defeat, eager to make camp and get some rest, though Jaheira had stayed with Cernd in the main clearing, talking with the other druids about what was now to be done. Lynd and a few others who had apparently shown an _enthusiasm _for Faldorn's harsh regime had disappeared very soon after she'd fallen and hopes were high among the remaining druids that those members who had been driven out by the shadow druid's tyranny would soon be returning to the grove.

An older druid named Verthan had been placed in charge as a temporary leader while a new Great Druid was chosen, the old man's eyes shining kindly as he'd slyly intimated that if she agreed to join their grove, she would get his recommendation for the honour. Jaheira smiled, knowing she could never stay there, however beautiful; her place was out in the world.

In the main clearing a wild boar was already spited and roasting over a fire pit, the druids preparing a feast in celebration of the grove's restoration, her and Cernd's offers to help being genially refused, Verthan merely setting them the task of inviting their companions to the gathering and they had left to return to their camp only to find it empty. For a moment, they had been at a loss, until a helpful young druid told them she had seen four of their company walking southwards with armfuls of dirty clothes in tow and Jaheira had known exactly where they would have disappeared to, she and Cernd striking out eastwards to meet the stream that had its source in the main clearing before following the flow of water southwards through the forests.

Jaheira glanced to the canopy above her, enjoying the way the light dappled the leaves, though she paid for her lack of concentration, her foot twisting on a root and she hissed as pain shot through her knee, Cernd sending her a concerned glance.

'It is still troubling you? You should let someone have another look at it –I am sure you would not be short of volunteers after your actions here today.'

'I did no more than you would have done, no more than what should be expected from any of Nature's servants,' she dismissed, slowly straightening and happy to change the subject as they continued their path. 'So have you any plans to remain here in the grove now it is freed? I believe many here would wish you to stay.'

Cernd smiled too though the gesture held a wry air, gazing up at the canopy as they walked.

'Yes, and just as many cannot wait to see me leave. You must sense it; they are constantly on guard, as the rabbits in the field.'

Jaheira glanced to him with a frown.

'Just because you are a werewolf?'

'Yes and no… I was not always like this, neither a servant of Nature nor a werewolf. Though I had always held Nature close to my heart, it was not until my twenty seventh year that I first came to live at this grove as a druid. I had just been infected with lycanthropy but months before and my more beastly side was all too apparent. Gragus welcomed me in though, even knowing what I was.'

Cernd smiled absently as he remembered his mentor.

'He taught me how to control my wilder nature, even through the moon's cycles, keeping an even temper and a serene heart the key to his teachings. But there were some things that could always push the calm lessons of my mentor from my mind and Faldorn was one of them. I told you we did not see eye to eye on many matters, but the truth was I hated her and her feelings toward me were no less malevolent. My lessons to control my lycanthropy meant I had to spend a lot of time with our leader and she believed he favoured me and my council over the others. Though Gragus led this grove, he always encouraged free discussion within its members. We would talk of how best to serve Nature with the changing times and expansion of man, Faldorn's martial stance leading she and I to arguments more than once, though Gragus could usually stop things before they got out of hand. But he could not be there always...'

Cernd trailed off a moment, a shadow passing across his eyes.

'I do not know whether she noticed I found it hard to control myself when I was angry and wished to shame me, or whether she just hated me enough for her to need no hidden motive, but we were arguing one day and she began to goad me. She accused me of manipulating Gragus, said I was an abhorrence to the grove, to Nature Herself, that my work as a druid was false, that I had only become a druid because with my lycanthropy I could not fit in with normal people anymore. She hit a nerve and I am ashamed to say I lost my temper and my control and my beastly side took hold. I transformed and attacked her. She was not badly injured in the end, but I do not know how much that was due to the intervention of Lynd and a few others. I changed back soon enough and my regrets could not have been more sincere, but the damage had been done. Gragus did not order me to leave, in fact he asked me to stay. But there were many who disagreed with him, and Faldorn raised enough support that it could have split the grove in two. I left to prevent that.'

'I see,' Jaheira said after a moment, unsure of what else to say. Though she did not hold with the idea that lycanthropes were in anyway an abhorrence to Nature, Cernd's outburst would have raised her concerns for the safety of the grove as a whole. Would she too have been siding with Faldorn at the time? Jaheira shook her head, such questions as unanswerable as they were pointless. 'So you'll return to the Grand Druid then?'

Cernd dipped his head to one side slightly, as though considering the point.

'Perhaps… though if I am honest, I would prefer to travel a while with your group if I can; I sense great things in your wake and where better can one serve the Balance?'

Jaheira nodded once, hearing this request to broach the subject on his behalf.

'I will speak with Fritha, though you must understand that with the winter approaching and work becoming harder to find, she may see you as more of a burden than a benefit.'

Cernd nodded his acceptance, his voice mild as he returned his attention to their path.

'Yes, she is a very interesting girl… very mature for all her youth.'

'You would think, wouldn't you?' muttered Jaheira dryly as they finally came upon their companions, laughter and singing mixing with the sound of rushing water. Haer'Dalis, Minsc and the two girls were on the opposite bank, laughing as they clapped out the beat, while Fritha stood in the water singing in Alzhedo about an octave higher than sounded comfortable, and doing some very enthusiastic Calimshite dancing to go with it. She could not help but look odd, but then, Jaheira considered as she watched Nalia laughing brightly, that was probably the idea. Fritha stopped as she saw them though, smiling brightly.

'Hello Cernd, oh and Jaheira too, anything you want washing?'

'Hello friends,' greeted Cernd as Jaheira instantly began rooting in her bag to throw her tunic and a pair of linen trousers; just because she would never have bothered with it herself, did not mean she would turn down the chance of clean clothes. At her side, Cernd smiled and shook his head.

'I have nothing, thank you, but I do come bearing a message. There is to be a feast this eve to celebrate the restoration of this grove and we are here to escort you to it.'

Fritha smiled glancing to the others sat on the bank above her. 'You heard the man; I'll be along once I've finished here.'

A flurry of movement as everyone packed up and made to stand, Aerie smiling brightly as she shouldered her bag.

'We'll see you soon then -are you coming, Nalia?' she questioned to the girl, still sat on the bank and looking torn. Fritha smiled.

'Go on, dearest, you've finished your work; go and save me a place.'

Nalia smiled slightly and nodded, letting Aerie link arms with her as they moved off, Fritha's voice calling after them on the warm air.

'Oh, and if you see Anomen, tell him to come visit me if he needs anything washing.'

xxx

Anomen walked slowly through the trees, the bracken brushing his legs as he passed. He had been out in the grove for the last hour or so now, alone save for his thoughts. The others had been in high spirits after Faldorn's defeat, all laughing and talking as they'd made camp, but Anomen had not remained with them for long. Their happiness when he himself felt so despondent was hard to bear, the fact his ill-humour was quite undeserved on their part making him feel even worse, and he had soon left to suffer his melancholy alone.

And so that had left him there, just walking aimlessly through the grove, trying to find a little peace. His worries on his upcoming test were like a plague on his thoughts though, only the hours of sleep giving him respite from the heavy knowledge that the judgement that would likely bring an end to a lifetime of hopes and hard work was looming. Talking to Fritha that morning had helped, for the girl could always be trusted to give sound council, but there was still nothing neither she nor he could actually do about the situation.

It had felt as though he could have walked about there forever, the unchanging forests holding a timeless quality until his wandering felt almost dreamlike. But at last he had stopped, kneeling beneath the trees to make his prayers, taking a little longer over them than he would have usually and at last he had felt, if not better, certainly ready to return to the others. He moved past the last few trees, stepping into the small clearing where they had made their camp to find it all but deserted, the bard there and stooped over his bag, a folio in his hand.

'Haer'Dalis, where is everyone?'

'Ah, Anomen, there you are and just in time it seems. We are invited to join the druids at a feast held in celebration of the grove's restoration.'

'Oh, I see,' Anomen muttered, his resolve to rejoin them all suddenly wavering. 'And what have you been doing with your afternoon?' he continued for want of anything else to say, gesturing to the folio Haer'Dalis held.

'This sparrow? Oh, I have just been watching the women washing.'

'You- you were _what_?'

'Yes, I even made a sketch, see?' he grinned, holding out a rough drawing of the three girls, a moment of tranquil domesticity captured forever in the fine charcoal lines. 'Fritha said to send you along if I saw you; she is there still.'

Anomen flushed, knowing his first assumption reflected more badly on him than it did the bard and he left Haer'Dalis still grinning widely, the squire following his directions east to the river. It seemed they had settled quite far out and the walk was calming, his previous frustrations with the tiefling fading as he went, the only sound the bright chatter of the water, until, at last, he heard another more familiar voice join its song. Anomen slowed his pace, pushing through the undergrowth, the singing growing louder with every step until he came upon her, Fritha stood in the middle of the stream, her trousers rolled up past her knees and singing at the top of her voice as she rinsed something in the water rushing about her calves.

'_Early one morning, just as the sun was rising, I heard a maiden singing in the va- _ah! Anomen!' she exclaimed shrilly, glancing up to notice him finally and frowning as she coloured, 'Weren't you ever told it's rude to sneak up on people? I could have been doing _anything_.'

'Like singing?' he inquired with an innocent smile and was rewarded with a wet tunic to the face.

'Fritha!' he snapped, throwing it back at her and she caught it with an easy laugh, stooping to rinse it again.

'So, do you need something washing? I've done everyone else's, though I warn you now, I don't do hose.'

Anomen let his pack fall from his shoulder and bent down to search through it a moment.

'Well, I have a tunic and some shirts, but I will wash them myself.'

Fritha raised an eyebrow.

'Does the training of the Order include laundering? I'm impressed.' She smiled wryly, beckoning to him, 'Here, throw them over; your willingness is noted, but there is hardly any point in us both getting cold and wet.'

Anomen hesitated a moment before he admitted defeat, kneeling to pull the clothes from his bag and hand them to her with a sigh. Fritha smiled, wading over to him to take them up and place them in the pot she had set on the large flat rock at her feet, the girl using a stick to agitate the contents for a moment, before removing the sopping clothes and emptying the remaining soapy water on the opposite bank. Anomen watched as she stooped to rinse the first. She was flushed from her previous work, her hands pink from the cold water while damp curls were plastered to her temples and neck, and she looked quite pretty in a domestic sort of way.

'There, beautiful,' she sighed, holding up a tunic, its colour much richer then when it was wet, the girl wringing it out and throwing it land on the pile of damp clothes next to him before blithely starting on the next. 'The soap I've got is working quite well and the beating helps- it's only mud for the most part after all. Of course, it would do little on any heavier bloodstains, but not much does. Fermented goblin urine is the best for that, though I don't carry any with me in case the bottle breaks in my bag.'

Anomen just nodded, unsure as to whether she was joking or not. She glanced to him.

'You're very quiet this afternoon…'

'Am I? I suppose I am just dwelling on matters to come, though it is nothing we have not talked over before.'

Fritha took the hint and mildly returned to her washing without further questions. He watched as the girl scrubbed enthusiastically at a grass stain, sighing with a deep contentment when it finally rinsed clean.

'Ah, I think I was made for more domestic tasks. I get such satisfaction from the shine of a pot or a line of freshly washed linen; surely I was born to it.' She glanced to him, noticing his frown to add, 'You can't tell me there aren't _scores_ of housemaids dreaming of adventure and glory at the right end of a blade.' She sighed, wringing out the last of his shirts and dropping it into the now empty pot. 'Grass is always greener, eh?'

She held a hand out expectantly and he helped her onto the bank, her fingers cold in his, the girl gathering the rest of the damp clothes into the pot and swinging it onto her hip as she moved off through the trees.

Fritha smiled, enjoying the feel of the grass under her bare feet, springy and pleasant as she moved about a glade they'd found just a few paces from the stream, hanging up the damp clothes as though the trees had suddenly started putting forth tunics instead of fruit. These last few days had been hard, slowly watching as Nalia became increasingly withdrawn and miserable. At least the magics of the grove had allowed a brief respite from the harsh weather and Fritha knew she should just enjoy it while she could, but it was no good. She knew it was only a few more hours before they would have to leave again and Nalia's melancholy would be tearing at her heart once more. Fritha drew a breath, pushing down her worries and taking pleasure in her work, determined not to let them ruin her time there.

'I think you giving up this life to become a laundress would be rather a waste of your talents, my lady,' continued Anomen as though there had been no pause to their conversation, his tone warmer than it had been, the man taking the shirt she was holding and hanging it over the branch high above her, seemingly without a thought. 'For one who has little over a year of formal training, you have skills that would leave many in the Order envious.'

Fritha gave a snort of laughter.

'Oh yes? I seem to recall an instance just yesterday where they were rather lacking.'

'That your sword broke was hardly any fault of yours and you survived the misfortune unscathed,' Anomen pressed and Fritha shrugged, watching a scattering of starlings playing under some nearby ferns. She knew she should just agree; just thank him for the compliment and move on, but part of her so wanted him to understand that the ability to take up arms did not always come hand in hand with the desire to.

'I suppose… I never really saw the ability to fight as much of a skill. Not like being able to sing or play or dance -not that I can do much of those things either,' she added hastily, feeling herself going red at how conceited she had sounded. But Anomen just smiled slightly.

'Your modesty is not necessary; we both know you have talents there -though it is your skill with a blade that I believe is your true gift.'

She could tell he considered his words were no small compliment and Fritha sighed, forcing a smile.

'So the skills decide the vocation, is it? If we're working by that theory I should definitely become a laundress, I wash clothes a lot better than I fight,' she laughed, hanging up another tunic but Anomen merely frowned.

'You should not joke about such things, Fritha, the idea of you wasting your abilities to become something so mundane is ridiculous.'

Fritha shrugged mildly. 'You think? Well, I was never known for my sense. Besides, this is my life; it should be my choice if I want to become a laundress and keep cats and marry a baker.'

'A _baker_?' repeated Anomen, looking no less than appalled.

'Well, I like bread and bakeries tend to produce a lot of washing,' she reasoned with a laugh that the squire did _not _share.

'I had no idea you held such lofty aspirations, my lady,' he muttered sourly, unexpectedly cross. Fritha sighed.

'Oh Anomen, they're just daydreams, I know that I probably wouldn't last a tenday as a laundress before I was bored to tears, but it can be nice to dream of the different paths your life could have taken, don't you think?'

Anomen made a noise somewhere between humourless snort and sigh.

'I have but one dream and it fades before me as each day passes.'

'Then I would have thought having another couple to muse on would be all the more welcome,' she muttered matter-of-factly, tired of his ill-humour when she herself was struggling to keep cheerful.

Anomen's eyes snapped to her with a livid look. 'You would _laugh_ at my plight?'

'Why not? I laugh quite merrily at my own,' she quipped bitterly, sighing again as she shook her head and took a conciliatory step towards him. 'I'm sorry, Anomen, you know I'm not laughing at you. Why don't you just tell me what's wrong?'

But Anomen merely snorted, turning his face away. 'To what end? There is nothing either of us can do.'

Fritha threw up her hands in defeat, stooping for another shirt. 'As you'd have it then, I haven't the patience for this today.'

Behind her, Anomen drew a sharp breath.

'The _patience_? Oh, your pardon, my lady, I did not realise my troubles were such an _inconvenience _for you!'

'Anomen,' she cried, a hand moving unconsciously to her hip as she turned to face him again, 'You know I didn't mean it like that. We were getting along fine but a moment ago; why are you now getting so angry over nothing?'

'So it is just nothing now, is it?' he snapped, 'Of course, I should have known any worries of mine would be beneath your interest.'

Fritha drew a deep breath, resisting the urge to scream.

'Are you _trying_ to drive me mad? Enough,' she sighed, forcing herself to calm down as she turned back to her washing, 'I am not going to fight with you about this, Anomen.'

But this only seemed to anger him further.

'How can you stand there so? Just fussing over your laundry, so cold-hearted, so unfeeling!'

Fritha snorted, her voice blithe even as she felt the words' sting.

'Yes, yes, wicked callous Fritha. I've heard it all before and from _far_ more impressive sources than you, Anomen. Pass me that shirt, will you?'

She glanced back to find him staring down at her, his face flushed, before he turned abruptly on his heel and marched from the clearing. Fritha sighed deeply, fetching up the shirt herself and arranging it over the bush before her. Cold-hearted? Sometimes she rather wished she was.

xxx

Anomen marched onward, unmindful of the darkening sky or his increasing hunger as he pushed through the undergrowth. What in the Nine Hells was _wrong _with him! One moment he and Fritha had been smiling and talking pleasantly enough, the next he was all riled up and trying to pick a quarrel with her. And that look in her eyes as he'd left, the same one she'd worn when they'd argued in the swamp, so tired and resigned, as though she just could not muster the will to care anymore.

He did not know why he'd become so angry, just that when he had said many in the Order would have been jealous of her talents, he had included himself. Imagine the skill he would have now after all his years of training had he been gifted with her natural abilities. And there she was, merrily dreaming of distaff and drudgery. And marriage to a _baker_! Anomen felt his jaw clench. He was fairly sure she had just been exaggerating then to prove a point, but still the image of her stood next to some corpulent red-faced man, with starched apron and flour in her hair had been a galling one.

But, however annoying, it had been no excuse for his subsequent behaviour. He knew he should just go straight back and apologise, but his shame was such that he could not bear to face her. And so he carried on walking, haunted by thoughts of their fight and his test both, and by the time the night finally drove him back to camp hours later, he felt as though he could have recognised every tree in the grove.

The camp was little livelier than when he had first come upon it though, the three girls reading quietly by the light of assorted lanterns and werelights, while Haer'Dalis sat, his folio resting on his bent knees as he drew. All glanced up as the squire arrived though, Fritha going pointedly back to her book.

'Ah, and Anomen returns as well,' greeted Haer'Dalis, 'Have you been at the feast, knightling?'

'No, I was making my prayers,' he answered promptly, knowing it was a white lie that would save him from any further explanation.

'I thought you might have been,' said Aerie with a smile, her glance to Fritha almost imperceptible, 'Here, I saved you some food.'

Anomen smiled slightly and nodded his thanks as she passed him the three leaf-wrapped bundles, her kindness quite unexpected.

'You missed quite an evening,' continued Haer'Dalis genially, giving Aerie a fond smile as he spoke, 'Many of the druids who left here under Faldorn have already returned, so it was quite the gathering when we left. Minsc and our two druids are still there, but the girls were eager to get back to their books.'

Anomen merely nodded again, in no mood for any conversation and everyone drifted back to their own tasks, the girls continuing their reading while Haer'Dalis worked on a composition from the sketches he had made earlier, the sweep of his stylus and the rustle of paper the only sounds.

Anomen dropped his attention to his meal, peeling the leaves back to reveal a hearty mixture of baked meat, fungi and seeds, now cold but still quite appetising for it. He glanced across the fire as he ate. Fritha was sat on her bedding opposite him, already dressed in the heavy linen slip and pale green tunic she had slept in when they had all shared a room at the inn. He half hoped she would glance up so he could gain some indication of her mood towards him. She seemed absorbed in her book though and he watched her, her eyes flying over the page feverously devouring the words, a wide smile on her face and quite a bit of pink in her cheeks.

'Oh,' she sighed finally, straightening to fan herself with the book, 'This book is _wonderful_. Oh, I'm all of a flutter.'

Nalia sent her a conspiratorial and rather giggly smile. 'Is that _The Pasha's Jewel _you're reading now? Oh, I know what you mean; Hectus is rather dashing, isn't he?'

Fritha drew back, her nose crinkled in disgust.

'Oh no, not Hectus. Yuk! I was talking about Niryth.'

'_Niryth!_ Fritha, he's an evil assassin!'

'Yes, but he's _properly_ dishy. Besides, he's not evil, he's just misunderstood,' she countered, her voice trembling with laughter, 'He- he just needs the love of a good woman! I can _change _him!' she cried, swooning back onto her bedding to laugh merrily at herself.

Nalia and Aerie were laughing, Haer'Dalis shaking his head as he continued to draw.

'Fritha, really, you cannot get all giggly over the _villain_.'

'Of course, I can. But then,' she smiled, letting her eyes flick pointedly to Anomen, 'I am well known as a girl of _doubtful _morals.'

Anomen flushed and went back to his food.

'How far are you on with that one now?' asked Aerie and Fritha glanced to her, instantly sheepish.

'Er, chapter fourteen…'

'And you do remember that we all promised to stop at fifteen and swap again?'

'Swap?' questioned Haer'Dalis, glancing up from his work and Nalia nodded.

'Yes, we all just read a bit of each book and then swap. It means we can talk about what has happened and which character's we like almost straight away. It is more enjoyable that way.'

'That all depends on what you're swapping it for,' said Fritha, looking rather put out at having to give up on Niryth so soon.

'Come along,' laughed Nalia, patting the space next to her, 'come over here where I can keep an eye on you.'

And Fritha gladly complied, settling down next to her and stretching out to pillow her head on Nalia's thigh, the girl's lap brimming with copper curls as they both read.

'Well, I've finished with this one for now,' said Aerie after a moment, snapping her book shut with a not quite disguised keenness, 'are you at chapter fifteen yet, Fritha?'

Fritha sighed and nodded, reluctantly handing her own volume over to Aerie who took it up and began to rifle through the pages greedily, finding her place. Fritha dropped her attention dispiritedly to the book she now held.

'Which chapter are we reading up to for this one again?'

'Seventeen, dearest.'

Fritha frowned, muttering as she found her page. 'I don't like this one, there's too much kissing in it for a start.'

'It gets better, I promise,' assured Aerie absently and a silence descended over the clearing again until-

'Ah, ugh, _disgusting_!' shrieked Fritha, sitting bolt upright and snapping the book shut, 'I'm not reading any more of this; it's positively indecent!'

'Ooo, read it out!' said Nalia keenly. Fritha shook her head, looking delicately pained.

'I can't, it's too horrible.'

'Oh, let me…' Nalia sighed impatiently, taking it from her to find her page and reading for a moment before she too squealed, though she looked far more amused than her friend, the girl laughing merrily. 'Ah, can you imagine someone saying that to you?'

'Not if he wanted to keep his teeth,' Fritha muttered darkly, 'How did you read this, Aerie?'

Aerie shifted where she sat and primly smoothed her skirts, the elf going an uncomfortable shade of pink as Haer'Dalis sent her a highly-interested look.

'_Really_, it wasn't all that bad; you two are making a fuss over nothing.'

'Nothing?' repeated Nalia, glance back the page, 'What about, _He stepped closer and she felt her eyes drawn to the_-'

'No, stop it! No more!' cried Fritha shrilly, laughing as she clamped a hand over the girl's mouth. Nalia laughed as well, shutting the book to lightly tap Fritha on the head with it and give her temple a fond kiss.

'Bless you, you goose! Here, you can make a start on one of these if you really can't get on with that one.'

Fritha took the book she offered, her doubtful look as she glanced over the cover soon fading once she had opened it and she was still reading steadily over an hour later when Jaheira and Minsc returned to the camp.

'Ah, you're back,' smiled Aerie, glanced up from her embroidery; she had given up on her book a while ago. 'Oh, where is Cernd?'

Jaheira smiled, dropping her bag next to the elf.

'He is there still. Some old friends of his were amongst those who returned and he is still catching up with them.'

Minsc smiled as well, sighing deeply in a satisfied sort of way. 'Ah, a good evening this has been. Nature is restored and celebrations are made, though I will be glad to see my bed; Boo is already asleep.'

He gently opened his jerkin and proffered Aerie the deep pocket within, the elf giving a soft 'Ah' of delight as she no doubt looked down on the sleeping hamster nestled within.

'Yes, I was surprised you four left when you did,' continued Jaheira as she took a seat next to her pack, 'though by the look of Fritha now, I can perhaps see why. A good read, is it?'

'Hmm?' came Fritha, glancing up for the briefest of moments with clearly no idea of anything that had been said and Jaheira rolled her eyes.

'I will take that as a 'yes' then.'

'Goodness, you've nearly finished it,' laughed Nalia brightly as she shut her own book and leaned over to check on her friend's progress.

'Oh, I have not,' Fritha dismissed, barely tearing her eyes from the page, 'I'm about a third of the way through. Besides, it's only short.'

Across the camp Jaheira stretched out her back and moved to unroll her bedding.

'Well, short or not, I hope you aren't planning to finish it tonight. We've a day of walking ahead of us tomorrow and you'll need your rest.'

Nalia's face was a mask in the lamplight, the smile she had been sharing with Fritha suddenly rigid. Fritha's eyes flicked to the druid, before her own smile broadened, the girl instantly plucking a leaf from the forest floor to mark her page and shutting her book.

'She's right, dearest, we should get some rest. Come on, unpack your bedding next to mine and we can talk about _The Pasha's Jewel_ before we sleep.'

Nalia nodded and smiled.

'Yes, that- that would be nice.'

Together they rose and moved over to where Fritha's blankets were already laid out, talking quietly between themselves as the others bedded down around them and the lamps were extinguished, night finally falling over the camp.

xxx

Anomen was walking once more through the trees of the grove, his gait steady even over the clumps of roots and ferns. But it was no purposeless wandering this time; he had a destination firmly in mind. He had not fallen asleep particularly readily the night before, his mind going over and over his argument with Fritha and when at last he had drifted into sleep, his dreams were strange and disturbing, the squire wandering the empty rooms and courtyards of the Order, until he finally came upon the girl in the Great Hall, though whatever he said or did, it was as though she could not see him.

And so, he had woken, troubled and ill-rested, to find shafts of warm yellow sunlight already pouring through the canopy above him, the glade they had slept in all but deserted, only Aerie and Nalia still lingering in their bedding, Nalia helping the elf comb through her hair. Cernd had brought the group bread and some of the cold leaf-wrapped meats for breakfast and the girls had saved him some. But he had waved their kindness away, asking only where Fritha was, the readiness with which the girls told him making him suspect their argument was still just between she and him.

Anomen caught a glimpse a familiar shirt through the trees up ahead and he knew he was finally there, the glade where they had hung the clothes the evening before, their assorted garments still hanging there, bright panes of colour against the green.

And there Fritha was, sat in the centre of it all, her hair loose and still wearing her heavy linen slip and the green tunic she'd slept in, the addition of her sandals her only concession to the fact she was in the middle of the forest rather than her room at the inn. Her face was dipped as she read from the book that had so consumed her the night before and Anomen watched her a moment. He hated it, that instant just before the apologies were broached, because with every quarrel he became more certain that a reconciliation was less and less likely and that he had ruined something forever. Anomen swallowed and steeled himself.

'My lady, I was won-' He stopped dead as she glanced up, her face pink and blotchy, her eyes red-rimmed and overly bright. 'Fritha, are you well?'

'Sorry?' she began with a sniff, moving to dab her nose on her handkerchief before seeming to realise herself. 'Oh! Oh, yes, I'm fine, Anomen,' she laughed, wiping at her cheeks and gesturing to the spot next to her with the slim volume in her hand. 'I'm just finishing this book. It was a sad story with a happy ending, so I pretty much cried the whole way through.'

Anomen nodded, sinking stiffly down beside her, still slightly unnerved. It wasn't so much her crying, as his reaction to it that was disturbing; surprising how, in those few moments where he'd thought she was upset it had felt as though his insides had suddenly been scooped out, leaving only worry and an unnamed guilt. Her laughter had faded by now and she, too, looked slightly uncomfortable, her eyes guarded being the lingering smile.

'Now you aren't here to have another shout at me are you?'

Anomen swallowed dryly, his face burning.

'My lady, what I said yesterday, I am sorry, I should not have spoken to you like that… Those things I called you, I do not- I-I have never-'

'Oh, no, no,' Fritha cut in, a strange mix of blithe and serious, 'let's not dredge it all up again, Anomen. You are sorry, I am sorry; let's just move on. I was just reading whilst I waited,' she continued brightly, happily changing the subject and gesturing to the tunics and robes that hung about them. 'Some of the clothes are still damp, but I've hopes they'll dry a bit better now the sun's up, because I washed all of mine yesterday and I'll be walking back to Trademeet like this if they haven't dried out in the next hour or so.'

She laughed brightly, clearly not worried by the idea, glancing to him with a slight frown when he did not share her amusement. 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing, I- you just seem to forget our arguments so readily,' he explained; they still haunted him for _days _afterwards.

Fritha just shrugged though. 'Well, there's little point in dwelling on them. Besides, you and I can't seem to _help _but rub each other the wrong way, can we?'

She laughed gently and Anomen turned away with a sigh, feeling suddenly old.

'You speak of we, but I fear it is obvious where the source of this conflict rests. Another argument, another apology and yet another instance where it is painfully clear as to what the outcome of my test will be.'

Fritha sent him a measured look.

'You always have all the answers, don't you?'

'Well, how do you think the Order will judge me?'

'I do not know, but I believe things will unfold as they should.'

He smiled slightly.

'You sound like Simon. But as time goes on I only feel more certain I will fail… By Helm, four years I have served the Order, and the longer I am there the more I realise I am not worthy of their ranks. And I think of Sir Ryan, my mentor and Sir Blethyn who had me squired and even sweet Moira who stayed alone with my father in that house, so that I could remain at the seminary. How disappointed will they be when I am judged and found unworthy?' He sighed deeply and shook his head. 'I sometimes think it would be easier to just give up on it all now and spare myself the grief.'

'_Say not the struggle naught availeth_,' Fritha quoted gently, and he glanced up to find her watching him, her dark eyes kind and he felt his shame resurface as the rest of the verse echoed unbidden in his head. 'Besides,' she continued matter-of-factly, 'I really don't know why you are so worried about the Order's judgement; it can't be any harsher than your own. You have proclaimed yourself unworthy without even hearing what they have to say on the matter. Anomen, why do you have yourself convinced you're such a terrible person? Don't you see? It doesn't matter whether Order accepts you or not, if you don't ever accept yourself.'

'Accept myself?' he repeated, surprised she would advocated such a course, 'Just accept the anger and the hatred within my heart? I cannot, my lady. Even if impossible, I must strive to be better than I am.'

Fritha sent him a stern look.

'Accepting who you are does not mean you just give up and make do- but it does mean you're not constantly berating yourself for not being born a saint.' She shook her head, smiling slightly. 'You have to start trusting your own heart, Anomen; it is not quite so black you would paint it and this doubt you constantly feel does nothing save make you unhappy. Just let it go.'

'I try, but…'

'Oh, Anomen, you try too hard!' she cried, falling backwards on the grass with exasperated laugh, 'Not everything has to be a struggle. Here, close your eyes.'

Anomen sent her a confused frown but the girl had already closed her own and he had little choice but to follow suit.

'Now, what do you feel?'

He concentrated, the moments creeping by as he waited for some revelation to spark in the empty hum of his mind. He sighed, frustrated.

'I feel nothing.'

'_Anomen_,' she warned in a sing-song, 'you're trying to hard…'

Silence once again and after a few moments, Anomen was about to tell her it wasn't working, when she spoke.

'Well, I feel the sun on my skin.'

And all of a sudden, he felt it too. Something so ordinary that he hadn't even considered it, and yet there it was. A soft, comforting warmth that seemed to blanket his bare arms and face. He screwed his eyes shut, focusing on the feeling, afraid he would lose it again.

'I feel the sun on my skin and the breeze in my hair. I am surrounded by the life of the trees and the vastness of the sky.' Fritha continued, her voice quiet and soothing, drifting round him along with these usually disregarded sensations. 'You must remember these things, Anomen, when you get too focused on the narrow matters of men. You must remember these eternal joys the world can give us.'

'You sound like Jaheira.'

Fritha laughed lightly.

'Gods help me, I do, don't I? Well, I can take pleasure in wine and dancing and clean clothes, so I don't think Silvanus will be pitching up to recruit me just yet.'

He watched her a moment, just lain next to him with her eyes still closed, her hair spilling out across the grass in bright amber tendrils, one hand resting carelessly on her stomach while the other still held her book, a finger within, keeping her page. Anomen swallowed and found his voice.

'I- I should get back to the others, I've yet to pack.'

Fritha said nothing, just made an vague noise of assent and gently patted his hand, not even opening her eyes as he rose and moved off through the trees.

Anomen shook his head as he walked. His stomach, not so long ago unpleasantly empty, now felt as though it had been filled with live snakes.

Part of him did not like Fritha like this, so wise and reassuring. He found things much easier when she was constantly reminding him what an idiot she was. Because when you found yourself considering how kind and full of serenity someone was, it was only a short step from there to considering how pretty they were. And how small and delicate their mouth looked when they weren't laughing their head off. Or how bright and clear their eyes seemed when they were narrowed with giggling.

He glanced back, half-hoping to catch another glimpse of her, but the trees had closed in behind him and the glade was gone from view.


	48. Return to earth

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Return to earth **

Jaheira stood in the clearing where they had spent the night watching the bustle about her, everyone busy packing up, getting ready for their imminent departure; they had only been in the grove for one night, how on Toril had they managed to get their belongings so spread out? All were there with the exceptions of Cernd, who had left early with some mention of making his farewells, and Nalia and Fritha, Jaheira dispatching the former to look for the latter after Anomen mentioned he had left Fritha reading; Jaheira knowing that all sense of time was lost once the girl got her hands on a book.

The druid sighed. Half the morning was already gone, though she couldn't really blame them for wanting to linger; not only was the grove beautiful, it was still quite fresh in her own mind the conditions in the swamp outside of its magicks.

Magicks that perhaps affected more than just the weather, she considered slowly. She had slept well that night, the best since Khalid had been taken and there was a certain clarity of mind that came from being well rested. Verthan had mentioned the leadership of the grove again that morning, asking her to reconsider her decision, but though she was not exactly looking forward to her eventual return to Athkatla and the difficulties she would have to face, she knew her path and would not shy from it.

The crash of undergrowth caught her ears and Jaheira turned to see the girls step into the clearing, Fritha drowning in one of Nalia's robes and the cause of much amusement among the rest of them, something the girl only encouraged.

'Oh I feel so _pretty_!' she cried affectedly, laughing along with everyone else as she twirled back and forth making the long blue skirts billow and leap. Jaheira sighed, trying not to smile.

'Fritha, _what_ are you wearing?'

'Here, our clothes,' Fritha announced, ignoring her question in favour of dumping a neatly folded tunic and trousers into her arms, turning to hand out the rest as she continued. 'Some of them are still a bit damp, including all of mine, so Nalia lent me this. It's too big, but…' Fritha shrugged, sending the girl in question a fond smile, Nalia returning it as she moved to help her belt up the long skirts.

'I had dozens of dresses back at the keep, even more if you counted the ones that didn't fit me any more -it's a shame really, _you_ could have had those ones, dearest,' she added with an absent smile, turning her attention back to the buckle under her fingers.

Fritha grinned ruefully. 'Oh, don't. I could almost cry when I think of all those beautiful gowns just mouldering away in your cupboards like old maids.'

'Fritha!' Nalia laughed, slapping her leg lightly, 'There, how is that?' she asked, finally straightening and stepping back, Fritha giving an tentative twirl, the girl beaming as she clearly enjoyed the weight of material swinging about her legs.

'Ah, skirts were _made_ for dancing- quite frankly, I don't know how you two manage to stop yourselves,' she added with a nod to Aerie and Nalia. 'Oh, I'd sell my soul for a waltz! And one, two, three. One, two, three, _fa-laaa, fa-laaa, fa la la-la_…'

Jaheira shook her head as the girl began sweeping about the clearing singing the tune, though she was not partner-less for long, Nalia stepping up and they both curtseyed in a most formal way before joining hands to commence again, Nalia taking the lead while Fritha used her free hand to hold her skirts out of the way.

'Come on Jaheira, get Anomen up here!'

Jaheira glanced to the squire and they shared a frown.

'Silvanus help us,' she sighed, turning to gather up her cloak, the squire still watching them with a rather daft expression. 'Anomen, have you finished packing yet?' she demanded, not waiting for an answer as she glanced across the camp to the ranger who was grimacing as he shrugged his pack into place. 'That looks heavy, Minsc. Haer'Dalis, I know for a fact you've room in your pack, come and take the canvas from him.'

Beside her, Jaheira sensed Fritha pulling a face, Nalia laughing.

'And you need not think I can't see what you're doing, girl! Stop prancing about and put your boots on.'

'Er, excuse me?' came a voice and all turned to see Verthan, the elderly druid watching the scene before him with an undisguised bewilderment, Cernd stood at his side. The two girls suddenly stopped mid-waltz and it was hard to tell which pair looked more bemused. Verthan glanced briefly to Cernd before turning back to them, 'Ah, I am looking for the young Lady Fritha?'

Fritha coughed self-consciously, stepping forward to a background of snickering, one hand still holding Nalia's.

'Er, here.'

'Ah yes, miss, I believe we did meet briefly last night. Well then, I am come to ask a favour of you and your group. As you know, having been dispatched from Trademeet, Faldorn's tyranny did not only harm this grove. Good Cernd has told me all that has happened to Trademeet, including their current attitudes towards druids because of it…'

Verthan glanced again to Cernd and Jaheira thought she saw his eyes linger a moment on the bruise that was fading on his jaw. 'I fear the once amicable relations we shared with the town are now in tatters and might be beyond repair, though I am compelled to try. Please take this letter to the High Merchant; if this first offer of peace is not refused than perhaps there can be hope for a co-existence between our two clans once more.'

Fritha took the letter with a deferential nod of her head.

'Of course, sir. Lord Coprith seems a reasonable man, I am sure he would want the same.'

Verthan smiled. 'Very good then. Well, I shall not keep you. A good journey, friends. Cernd,' he nodded slightly to her, 'Jaheira.'

And Jaheira watched him disappear through the trees before turning back to the others, the girls stood beside her, still hand in hand. Fritha turned to Nalia, her manner sombre.

'This is a serious responsibility which rests upon us and our deportment should reflect the gravity of our task… let's have a polka! _Fa-la, fa-la, fa la-la-la-la-la!_'

And Nalia shrieked as she was suddenly swept up, Fritha galloping the length of the clearing to spin her round, their laughter ringing in the warm air.

xxx

Haer'Dalis sighed, the ground unpleasantly marshy beneath his feet as he walked with the others, the swamp around them a monotonous green-grey blur. It was a cold blustery day outside of the grove, though he was not feeling it like the others, Fritha and Nalia just before him in the formation, both girls so bundled up in cloaks and scarves and gloves they looked like little more than two shambling mounds of clothes. At least the weather was dry, though for how much longer he would not have liked to guess, dull grey clouds gathering overhead and the waters of the marshland seemed much risen since they had made their way to the grove. More than once they had been forced to turn back, their way impossible; once solid ground now an expanse of murky water.

A peal of warm laughter sounded at his back, hanging a moment in the damp air. The walk and the weather may have been one thing but the real trial of this journey was right behind him. Aerie and Cernd had been walking together at the back of the group almost since they'd left the grove, the pair chattering and laughing like friends of old. Haer'Dalis knew the druid liked his dove, not that he could blame him, for indeed, the choice showed good taste, but he would have much preferred it if Aerie had not been quite so _content _under the man's attentions, the girl no less than glowing. Haer'Dalis did not believe in jealously, but that did not mean he did not suffer from it.

Another laugh sang in his ears as the first few drops of rain pattered cold on his cheeks and Haer'Dalis sighed deeply, letting his attention shift to the girls before him. Fritha had noticed the change in weather too, the girl glancing briefly to the grey sky before her gaze fell on Nalia, worry clear on her face and Haer'Dalis caught her eye to send her a sympathetic smile. He knew well enough the pain of watching those you cared for suffer, his thoughts falling unexpectedly back to the young woman, Kaerid whom he had known as a youth in Sigil.

Growing up in the bustle of the Guildhall Ward, he had never been one of the street children. Indeed he had had a home, though he had not been much welcome there, his mother encouraging him to spend as much time as possible out of the house and it was by one of her attempts to keep him 'out of her hair' that he had met Kaerid.

There was a local cager who had been quite the lyrist in his day, though he had retired by then, content to give lessons to those aspiring to follow him in the art. Haer'Dalis's mother had enrolled him in classes without even enquiring whether he had any inclination for music or not, though Haer'Dalis had found he took to the instrument well and the classes provided rewards of another sort too.

Haer'Dalis smiled slightly to himself, and for a moment he was back in the dusty classroom watching his friend, her bright dark eyes shining as she played through some well-practised piece. He had never had many friends; he had found the boys of his own age, especially the one he was in a place to mix with, dull and loutish and the girls were little better. Kaerid was a few years older than him from a family in Clerk's Ward, and they were soon friends, the girl's warm if shy nature resting well with his own more sensitive albeit extrovert manner.

She had been much more skilled in music than he too, something their teacher had seen as well and he had mentioned more than once about her leaving his tutelage to attend a conservatory over in the Lady's Ward. But it was a struggle enough for her to come to classes; enrolment at a conservatory would have never been allowed. Her father had died a year or so before and her mother had been rather shaken by the matter, turning to the Dustmen for consolation and she was quite the factotum by then, always preaching about death and denial, claming that the only true path was one of oppressing ones needs and emotions. It was really only a matter of time before Kaerid rebelled, and in a most spectacular fashion, Haer'Dalis considered grimly. She fell in love.

He was called Equis. A charming roguish sort who spoke of love and showed it freely. A little too freely, in fact; the man pursuing his pleasures in the arms of women with seemingly little care as to who he hurt in the process and Haer'Dalis suspected now the only thing he was ever enamoured of was Love itself. But in the beginning Equis had pursued Kaerid with an earnest passion and the girl had been quite taken in. It was only when he had caught her that her affections were suddenly no longer enough, the man always complaining of her tying him down, and he would flirt and make free with other women as he had always done, sometimes disappearing for days on end.

He had always seemed content to return to her though and for her part, Kaerid had always been there for him, so willing to believe his lies about how he truly loved her and it would all be different. Haer'Dalis sighed to himself. It had torn his heart to see her so used and he had lost count of the times she came into classes, her eyes still red from tears she'd cried the night before.

He had tried to reason with her, to show her Equis would never change his ways, but she was adamant that he loved her 'in his own way'. He remembered once, the pair of them alone in the empty classroom, the light outside the grimy windows fading as the day drew to a close, the girl sat with him in the half light as they lingered over packing away their instruments and he still recalled the bleak frankness of her words.

'_I know you think me a fool, Haer'Dalis, but he is the only one who has ever shown me such affection and- and I would rather have a little of it than none at all..._'

But for all her talk, it took its toll, the girl caught between the man and her mother, her spirit slowly being worn away by the careless heat of one and the icy devotion of the other. Then Haer'Dalis's own mother died and he could no longer attend the classes, though that had been the least of his worries at the time for a young boy barely into his teens suddenly without a home or income. He had found himself a place at the theatre eventually, but Kaerid had not been so fortunate.

He had heard much later that she had just gone out one night, never to come back. No body had ever been found. Perhaps she had run away. Perhaps she was just another of the poor unfortunates who'd found themselves lying in the gutter all for the meagre contents of their purse, or maybe she had even taken her own life…

It was all past now though and dwelling on it did nothing, he reminded himself forcibly.

It had not been long after he had been introduced to the local Doomguard faction, his eyes finally opened to the unravelling chaos of the world and he had soon learnt to embrace such destruction as the way of things. But for all that he had vowed then never to be like Equis; never would he lie in matters of the heart and _never _would he promise things he could not ensure.

Haer'Dalis shook himself from his reverie, feeling unsettled and uncharacteristically melancholy. Anomen had dropped back to ask Nalia something and the bard used the opportunity to send Fritha another smile, the girl slowing her pace to walk next to him.

'The weather is only getting better I see. Ah, it is days like this I long to be under the cloudless skies of Sigil.'

'There's no rain in Sigil?' she confirmed with a mild surprise, 'It must get a bit boring, with the weather the same every day … Though I can see it would be an advantage now and then,' she conceded, smiling grimly as a blast of bitter wind howled about them, the girl almost disappearing as she tried to retreat further into her pale violet scarf.

'You are cold, my raven?'

'Yes, especially my legs; skirts might be made for dancing, but they are _not_ made for travelling –and besides, we don't all have jealously to keep us warm,' she added with an impish smile that made it hard for him to contain his own grin.

'I am sure I do not know of what you are speaking, my raven. It is a shame you are not finding your new clothes to your liking though, for I must say, I rather favour you in robes,' he teased, tugging one of her belts for good measure. Fritha went very pink and told him to 'bugger off'.

Haer'Dalis laughed. He could tell he'd overstepped the bounds of friendship and rather wished Aerie had seen him do so as another shared laugh rang out behind him. He inclined his head slightly, hoping to get a glance at the pair without being seen to be looking, the movement most definitely noticed by someone.

'If you're so bothered, go and join them,' laughed Fritha.

'I tried,' he admitted with a disgruntled sigh, turning back to her, 'They are talking of _nature_ and it bores me. Besides I do not care. Aerie can speak to whomever she wishes; I will not cage the dove.'

'Well, good, for you've no reason to; you know well enough how Aerie feels about you.'

'Really?' he questioned dully, feeling tired and despondent with the day, 'I do not know her as well as I had once thought. She did not like the gift I bought her for her birthday.'

'The works of Erudis? She actually told you she didn't like them?' Fritha pressed, the girl pulling up her hood as the rain grew heavier. Haer'Dalis sighed, following her example merely for something to do.

'She did not have to. I noticed the way she received the gift; she is not so good an actress yet to fool this bard.'

Fritha sighed as well. 'Oh, I'm sorry; I was so sure she would. But Aerie is not so shallow as to care about that sort of thing,' she continued more brightly, 'In her heart she will have liked whatever you got her simply because it came from you.'

'It is not so much that as, as worries that we are not as attuned to each other as we might be, though suppose you are right.' He shook himself, heaving another sigh. 'Ah, things will be what they will. All things fall to entropy in the end, as indeed they should; why should the pairings of us fragile birds be any different?'

Fritha laughed, giving his back a hearty slap. 'That's the spirit!'

'Hold everyone,' came a voice up ahead, Fritha peering through the sheets of rain to see Jaheira turning back to them, Minsc looking grim at her side, the path behind the pair sloping away to an expanse of grey water, the surface looking almost alive with movement as the rain pelted in to it. 'We cannot go this way; we will have to double back.'

Fritha felt her stomach tighten at the dark mood that suddenly seemed to descend around her. Behind her, Aerie sighed deeply, Anomen muttering an oath under his breath while the girl at his side looked distraught.

'_Again?_' Nalia cried, a shrill desperation to her voice, 'That is the fourth time now. We have made no advance for the last two hours!'

'And you have another suggestion?' demanded Jaheira and Fritha could see she was just as frustrated as the rest of them. 'We shall stop a moment here to plan again our route,' the druid continued firmly, Cernd joining them as Jaheira removed her pack to fetch out the map. Nalia shook her head, turning on her heel to march away into the forest, Fritha moving to follow, the others' discussion drifting after her.

'We could head back to this point then take a route northeast through the forests.'

'Indeed, the ground is higher, but it is definitely the long way around.'

'Perhaps, but we are getting nowhere trying to find a direct route through the swamp...'

Nalia did not go far though and Fritha came upon her after only a moment, the girl halted in a small clearing a little way from the path, her hood thrown back, dark red hair hanging tangled and lank.

'Nalia?'

The girl turned slowly to face her and though she was not crying, Fritha felt her heart wrench at the grey misery she saw on her face.

'Oh Nalia, dearest, I'm sorry. I know you're cold and tired; we all are. But it will be all right. Jaheira will find a path through. We'll be back in Trademeet by tomorrow and all this will just be a memory. And… and we've still got each other, see...'

She smiled gently, entwining their fingers and making to lead her in another waltz, Nalia snatching her hand back angrily.

'No, Fritha! When will you realise you cannot just make everything better with a laugh and a dance?'

'Because sometimes, that's all I have!'

'I'm sorry, I…' Nalia faltered, her breath coming all at once in a choked sob, the rain running in rivulets down her cheeks, and there was an awful swooping sensation in Fritha's stomach as she imagined the tears it could be hiding. 'I know it is not your fault, but it just seems endless. We will be returned to Trademeet soon, yes, but what of our journey back to Athkatla? And then what? I know we must go where the work takes us, but a whole winter of this?' Nalia dipped her face, just shaking her head as words finally failed her.

'Hush now, its all right…' Fritha soothed, pulling her into an embrace, the wool of her cloak damp against her cheek, 'I know it all seems insurmountable now, like you could never be happy in this life, but your still getting used to it. And once the winter proper sets in we will probably be forced to keep any searches for work close to the city anyway; the weather will be too bad to travel far.'

'I- I suppose so,' Nalia tremoured, her voice hollow and Fritha tensed as two arms gently pushed her back, Nalia holding her at arms length and smiling weakly though it did not reach her eyes. 'I think I just need to be alone for a moment.'

'No, wait, I…' Fritha cried, before she realised there was nothing she could say. Nalia gave her a pained look, opening her mouth as though to speak again, when the girl just shook her head, letting her fingers trace the line of her cheek before turning to move off through the trees once more.

Fritha watched her leave, the sensations threatening to overwhelm her as, for a moment, she suddenly felt aware of everything around her; the sharp tingle of her cold wet cheeks, the unpleasant slickness of her toes in damp stockings, the dull thudding of her heart. A droplet of rain dripped from the nest of curl at her crown to land on her neck, and she felt it slide all the way down her spine to pool in the small of her back.

'My lady?' came a deep voice behind her. Fritha ignored him, just staring at the place where she had disappeared. 'Fritha, Jaheira was wonder- Fritha, what- what is wrong?'

'Nalia, she is…' Fritha swallowed past the hot lump in her throat, 'unhappy.'

She glanced back to see Anomen, the man frowning from beneath his hood as he shook the rain from his fringe.

'Well, yes, as are we all. This weather is damnable. But the others will find a route through soon enough and we will be back within the town before long.'

'Yes, I understand all that, it's just…' She turned away from him, her voice suddenly hoarse. 'I just can't bear to see her cold.'

Fritha drew a shaky breath, dipping her head as she felt the tears begin to well and moving a hand up to cover her face as she let her breathing deepen, waiting for the feeling to subside before she dared turn back to face him, Anomen still stood behind her and looking extremely uncomfortable.

'I'll come and see Jaheira now.'

xxx

A good fire was crackling in the hearth, throwing warm yellow light over the small kitchen where they were all crowded, everyone sat upon the floor on cloaks and blankets while clothes from that day and the girls' previous laundry hung drying above them. Anomen served himself some more tea, the cup almost too hot to bear as he lifted it for that first scalding sip.

They had headed north and then eastwards through the forests as planned before circling back round to leave the woods behind the old mage house. The journey had taken hours, the dusk well upon them by the time they'd arrived, and though the rain had eased off by then, all were soaked through and tired and it was soon decided that with the druids no longer posing a threat, it was worth the risk to stay in the house.

Thankfully, Minsc had had the foresight to throw the bodies of the rakshasa into the swamp before they had left the last time and the ranger impressed everyone again by suggesting they use the old furniture in the adjoining room as firewood, though this fine idea, too, was one he attributed to Boo.

Anomen settled his cup in his lap and glanced about the cramped room. Nalia was sat on the other side of the hearth, reading by the firelight, Minsc behind her, his broad shoulders up against the backdoor as he methodically sharpened his sword. Haer'Dalis and Aerie were tucked away in the alcove by the chimneybreast where the woodpile must have once rested, the two engaged in a quiet discourse which seemed to comprise mostly of tender looks and long kisses. Jaheira and Cernd were in conversation as well, though _far_ less intimately, the pair on the other side of the room before the front door. Cernd had been the only real voice against sleeping in the house, basing his objections on worries of what traps and fell magics the rakshasa could have left within, though Anomen wondered whether he would not have just preferred to spend one last night within nature while he had the chance, tomorrow likely finding them all back within the town. Either way though, Fritha would hear none of it, the girl blithely telling him, when he pressed his point, that _he_ was quite welcome to sleep outside if he wanted and she wished him well in the venture.

Anomen frowned, letting his gaze fall on the girl settled next to him. Fritha had been in an irritable mood all afternoon. He had no doubts that it was something to do with her talk with Nalia, and he half wished that it had been caused by another quarrel with _him_, for at least then he could just apologise and she would cheer up.

The girl was deep in her studies now, open bottle of ink before her and stylus in hand as she hunched over her journal working on the ode she had written in the back. It did not seem to be going well though, her work punctuated by much sighing and scribbling out, the girl occasionally glancing up to send Aerie and Haer'Dalis cross looks.

Anomen took another sip of tea, smoothing his wetted lips together before leaning over to venture, 'How go your studies, my lady?'

The girl straightened with a sighed, tiredly scrubbing a hand across her face.

'Fine, fine, I'm just working through a rather complicated grammar form using the past tense and the- Gods, could you two just give over! You sound like a blocked drain!'

Aerie and Haer'Dalis instantly broke apart from what looked to have been a rather passionate clinch, the tiefling laughing heartily, though Aerie looked less than amused, the elf pink as she shot Fritha a look.

'You need not pick on us just because you are in a foul mood; you've been snapping at everyone all evening.'

'And how would you know? You haven't come up for air since dinner.'

'Fritha!' scolded Jaheira, Aerie mouthing a moment until-

'Just- Just because no one wants to kiss _you_!'

'Aerie!' shouted Jaheira though both girls ignored her, Fritha suddenly flushed as well.

'Perhaps not! But at least if they did, I'd have the consideration not to subject everyone else to my- my obstreperous osculation!'

A stiff silence, and then-

'_Obstreperous osculation_?' repeated Aerie, her own incredulous amusement prompting Fritha's and the tension suddenly faded as the pair began to laugh.

'Well, it was the first thing that came to mind!'

'_That_ was the _first _thing?'

Fritha was really giggling now, still flushed and looking a very pretty mix of amused and embarrassed; Anomen couldn't see why _anyone_ wouldn't want to kiss her.

'Oh, leave me be!' she laughed; sighing as she finally calmed and began to pack up her work. 'I'm sorry, Aerie.'

'Yes, as am I,' the elf agreed with a lingering smile. Fritha scrubbed a hand across her face, making to stand.

'Ah, it's too stuffy in here; I'm going out for some fresh air.'

'You cannot go alone,' chorus Jaheira and Anomen at once. Fritha frowned as she reached for her cloak.

'Oh, don't start on with that again.'

'She will not be alone,' announced a deep voice, Minsc rising from his place at the hearth, 'We shall come as well; Boo will hear no less, young Fritha.'

Anomen watched her, waiting for the sharp refusal, when something about her expression softened and she smiled slightly.

'Yes, okay; thank you, Minsc.'

The ranger beamed, people quickly shifting out the way of his large feet as he moved to join her at the door, Fritha throwing wide and together they were lost to the darkness.

xxx

Fritha drew in a deep breath of cool sharp air, the sensation quite refreshing even as it scored her throat. Though the day was another cold one, it was dry and bright, a clear arc of faded blue sky above them as they'd walked the last few miles through swamp and forest back to Trademeet. An end was in sight now and everyone seemed in better spirits for it, the journey full of amiable talk, even as the day wore on and the pale yellow sun began to sink in the west.

Fritha smiled as Minsc glanced back from where he was leading with Jaheira and Cernd, the ranger returning her smile before turning his attention back to their path. He had been keeping an eye on her all day, but she knew it was only out of care for her and she did not mind, her thoughts drifting back to their previous evening.

They had left the house, the heavy darkness outside absolute once they had stepped only a few paces from the light of the windows and she had shown him how she could cast a werelight now, the man full of friendly praise as they'd moved over to the other side of the bridge where they had sat on the crumbling wall, the surrounding swamp silvery in the moonlight. It was peaceful just sat there, neither of them speaking, and Fritha had even let herself have a little cry, which Minsc very kindly pretended not to notice, before they had walked back to find all bar Cernd asleep, the man volunteering for the first watch.

But back in the present, the trees about them were thinning, the warm yellow stone of the town walls just visible between the trunks and they finally stepped into the clearing, the tents of the caravan merchants still huddled against the walls though there seemed fewer of them now than when they had left the town. The group did not head for the town gates though, instead skirting the tree line and, up ahead, Fritha could see a familiar violet-striped pavilion still nestled against the forest's edge.

It seemed Khan had not wanted to waste the fine weather either. A large blue awning had been put up just before the pavilion, while underneath stood a tall spindly table that looked too fragile to even stand under its own weight, let alone the tall ornate teapot it held, two long benches draped in exotic furs either side of it, Khan currently reclined upon one of them though he sat up as they approached.

'Ah, and the little manali has returned,' he beamed, setting down his cup next to the pot and rubbing his hands together, 'Do you bring news of our naughty rakshasa?'

'We bring a bit more than news,' laughed Fritha taking the rough hessian bag that Minsc was proffering her and passing it to the djinn, 'There you are: Ihtafeer's head and a paw each from her brothers. All I can say is thank goodness for the cold since we've had to cart them about for nigh on three days.'

Khan's broad face twisted in incredulous delight.

'You bring us the head yourselves? Astounding, even for mortals! Ah, this is very good indeed,' he continued, peering into the bag with a lot more delight than Fritha could have shown a rotting head, 'But I must ask: how did you find them?'

'They were living in an abandoned house in the swamp,' offered Haer'Dalis with an even shrug, 'disguised as woodsmen and very cleverly so.'

Fritha nodded. 'I can't speak for anyone else, but I was more than taken in; all homeliness and hospitality, they almost poisoned us!'

Khan laughed warmly.

'Well, did you just think they would attack you on sight? They would not stay hidden for long if that was the case. Oh, no, rakshasa are clever little creatures, Ihtafeer more than most. But not so clever as you, eh, little manali. See Ihtafeer; see the clever little mortal who brought you to us.'

He pulled the severed head from the bag by one tawny black-tipped ear as he spoke, and Fritha could not resist giving it a little wave, Khan roaring with laughter.

'Come, bring seats for our guests! You must take tea with us before we depart!'

And Khan would hear no refusals on the subject, though they were not made particularly vehemently. Fritha was more than happy to prolong their visit and they stayed for over an hour, sat on the benches and chairs the servants had brought beneath the deep blue canopy, the underside of which was embroidered with tiny gold stars. Khan had more cups brought out as well, beautiful little things of dark red glass with intricate silver handles, the djinn serving them sweet apple tea from a pot that never seemed to run dry as his musicians played for them in the mouth of the pavilion. Those who knew the words were encouraged to sing along, Khan leading by example, and Fritha, Nalia and surprisingly enough Aerie joined him, the elf confessing she had been taught a few of the more popular songs by one of the Calimshite performers back in the circus.

The shadows were lengthening now, Jaheira first to voice the fact that they still had a meeting with Lord Coprith before their task was done and everyone reluctantly finished their cups and made their goodbyes.

Fritha halted with the others a few paces from the djinn's camp, letting her gaze travel over the heavy jewelled hilt in her hand. Khan had pressed upon them a fine scimitar before they'd left as a reward for delivering Ihtafeer's head, the blade much too large for anyone smaller than Minsc to use and it was agreed they would sell it when they had the chance. Fritha pulled her attention back to the camp before her, watching as Khan oversaw the last of the awning being carried into the tent behind him, before he held up a hand in one final farewell, there was a flash of light and both he and the tent were gone.

'Well, that was all rather pleasant,' Nalia sighed blithely as the group turned as one and started back to the town. Fritha nodded, smiling as she glanced back to where the pavilion had been as though she hoped to see them there still.

'Indeed! I'm definitely visiting Calimshan when I've the chance: those people know how to have fun.'

Nalia laughed, Jaheira quickening her pace to a more purposeful stride and giving Fritha's shoulder an encouraging pat as she passed.

'Come along, manali, the day is not yet over.'

'What is this _manali_ they keep calling you?' questioned Haer'Dalis to no one in particular.

'It means rakshasa bait,' laughed Fritha.

'It means _bird_,' sighed Anomen.

'Yes, it does…' confirmed Aerie slowly, a contemplative frown furrowing her smooth brow, 'if you know Alzhedo, Anomen, why didn't you join in with the singing?'

Anomen drew himself up a touch, his more rigid posture not quite distracting from the sudden flush to his cheeks.

'I understand the language, it does not mean I know any songs in it.'

'No, but they were easy enough to pick up,' pressed Nalia, 'even Haer'Dalis was joining in.'

Fritha grinned. 'Yes, but to be fair, you'd have to _gag_ the sparrow to stop him singing along, unknown language or not.'

'My raven!'

And their banter took them all the way to the Town Hall, the streets around them buzzing with whispered rumours that the druids' siege was no more, a hopeful anticipation hanging in the air. The mayor greeted them most warmly, his good mood only increasing when he received the news that both the druids and the djinn had been dealt with.

'Ah, my friends, we owe you a debt we can never repay. That you have re-established peace with the druids is wonderful, but that you managed to convince those blasted djinn to leave as well! I, along with the rest of the town, noted the sudden cease in animal attacks a day or so ago, though I could give no official word to the townsfolk until I had firm evidence. I cannot say how happy I am to hear it from your own persons, all safely back within our walls.'

Coprith graciously accepted Verthan's letter, saying he would dispatch a messenger with his own cordial reply within the next few days, and arrangements were quickly made for them to meet with High Merchant again on the morrow to receive their payment in a more formal atmosphere, though they politely refused his offers to take tea with him then (Fritha sincerely believed she would burst if she drank any more).

'Well, if you would please excuse me, I should meet with the guildmasters; I would like to officially announce this wonderful news in the main square as soon as possible.' Coprith smiled and dipped a bow, 'A good afternoon to you all.'

But despite the fact the mayor had yet to make his announcement, by the time they left, news was already travelling Trademeet and seemingly moving more quickly than they, Vyatri gladly welcoming them back to his inn as heroes, the innkeep insistent that now he'd the space they should take the suite of eight rooms on the top floor; all without charge, of course.

'Ah, did you hear that?' cried Aerie with obvious delight as the landlord returned his attention to the patrons at the bar, the men sat there all subtly straining to get a better look at them. 'A whole floor to ourselves; how nice!'

Fritha gave her a grin that Anomen was sure would have had more than one of the monks back in Candlekeep questioning their vows.

'Well, I know what _I'm_ going to do now. Straight to bed for me!'

Warm laughter rippled across the group, Jaheira's stern tones ringing over it as the women started their ascent, their voices drifting down the stairwell as he followed.

'Fritha, you cannot go straight to bed!'

'No, you're right; I shall have a bath first!'

'Fritha, you cannot go to bed, it is the middle of the afternoon!'

'So? Aerie agrees with me, don't you?'

'Well, ah, that is-'

xxx

Anomen locked his door and set off down the hallway towards the stairs, the sky beyond the window behind him already the deep indigo of twilight. He, too, had retired to his room, though he had not slept, instead using the afternoon to go through some of his old guides and training journals, this gentle reminder of how much he had learnt since joining the Order making him feel slightly better about his approaching judgement. He had been alone with his own thoughts long enough now though, the distant chime of the bells over at the temple of Waukeen striking six as he left his room, some company just as welcome as a meal as he headed for the common room.

'Ah, Anomen, you're here,' announced a familiar authoritative voice and he glanced up to see Jaheira ascending the stairs before him, a large pot of saffron rice in her hands, Fritha and Nalia on her heels carrying bowls and a dish of braised vegetables respectively.

'I wouldn't go down there if I were you,' laughed Fritha, as she passed him, nodding her head to the stairs behind her, 'we're all going to eat in Jaheira's room.'

'I'll go and knock for Minsc and Cernd,' offered Nalia brightly. Jaheira nodded.

'What? Why, my lady?' Anomen questioned, more than puzzled, and Fritha smiled.

'We've just left Aerie and Haer'Dalis at the table,' she pulled a face, 'They're _kissing_ again.'

'And providing enough of a show to put us off our food,' added Jaheira bluntly, Fritha nodding in wholehearted agreement.

'And it's not as though you can even look away! Have you heard them? It sounds like someone with no teeth trying to eating semolina.'

'Fritha, must you?' exclaimed Anomen, rather nauseated and the girl laughed as Jaheira continued dryly.

'You make it sound so appealing; I suppose you'll never succumb to such things.'

Fritha grinned. 'No, not till a hot Uktar. So, anyway, downstairs is packed and since it wouldn't be fair to take up two tables when we've only need of one, we decided it would be best for us to eat up here and let them enjoy a romantic evening alone for once. Come on, Anomen,' she ordered genially, 'it wouldn't do for you to interrupt our resident lovebirds, now would it?'

Anomen smiled and dipped his head in acquiescence, following the women along the corridor to the druid's room, their gathering soon doubled as Nalia appeared with Minsc and Cernd. And so the meal began, the group sat about talking amiably, everyone passing around dishes and sharing out the leftover sherry from Aerie's birthday. The window had been opened despite the chill to the air, the sounds of music and merriment drifting up from the streets below, no doubt a result of Lord Coprith's earlier announcement, Fritha stood just before it, a dish casually balanced in one hand as she ate her rice, absently moving through the steps of a reel as she did so.

A knock at the door halted her mid-step though.

'That's probably Aerie and Haer'Dalis, bored without us already,' she laughed, the girl setting her dish on the window sill and neatly picking her way across the room to answer it. 'Oh, good evening, sir.'

She let the door swing wide in her surprise and Anomen stared up at a wayworn young man, sandy-haired and freckled, his face a stranger to him though the symbol of a crossed heart on the scarlet tunic he wore was more than familiar: the crest of the Radiant Heart. The man dipped a polite bow.

'Good evening, m'lady, I was looking for Anomen Delryn; the landlord said his group had taken the rooms on this floor.'

Fritha nodded, stepping back slightly. 'Ah, yes… er, Anomen?'

The messenger's eyes fell upon him, and he paused a moment as though waiting for Anomen to rise and escort him somewhere more private. But Anomen had been with this group long enough now to consider them friends and he needed no secrets from them. He nodded slightly for the man to continue.

'Squire Anomen, I am bade to inform you that the date of your test has been set. You are to be judged along with other squires of your Order before your god and your peers at the autumn ceremonies. It is to be held at high sun on the twentieth day of this month; will you be returned to the city in time for this or should I ask the Prelate to expect you at the winter ceremony?'

Anomen glanced to Fritha and she nodded firmly. He turned stoically back to the messenger.

'I shall attend.'

The man smiled. 'Good. I shall tell the Prelate to await you then. Gods be with you.'

'And with you also.'

'Wait!' cried a voice, almost shrill in her desperation to halt the messenger and Anomen turned back to see Nalia knelt up, her arm outstretched, the girl slowly flushing pink as she realised all eyes were upon her, though she swallowed and continued stalwartly. 'Ah, your pardon, sir, but you have just come from the city, yes? I wonder if you have any news on the burglary at the Roenall estate.'

The man blinked a moment, clearly thrown by the question though he answered all the same.

'Why, yes, m'lady, I doubt there is anyone in Athkatla who does not know the news. On that very day Isea Roenall's estate was broken into, certain documents found their way into Magistrate Ianulin's hands, and they were evidence as damning as anything could have been. Proof, it is claimed, of the young lord's involvement in smuggling and slavery!'

So they had believed the evidence then. Isea had failed to wriggled out of it as they had worried he might. Fritha watched as Nalia sank back down to sit on the floor, her face alight with a hope so fragile that any wrong word could dash it, the tension it was no doubt stirring in her making her look almost tearful as he continued earnestly.

'Roenall claimed they were forgeries, denying the documents were anything to do with the burglary and sticking to previous claims that thieves escaped with nothing. But he was undone and by one of his very own, for one of his old housekeepers witnessed the robbery and had already told everyone she knew of the details and how the perpetrators had even said they had found what they wanted in his study before they had made their escape.'

And in spite of everything, of what this all could undoubtedly mean for her, Fritha nearly laughed out loud at the thought that that silly old woman had had a hand in Isea's downfall.

'He has, of course,' continued the messenger, 'been dismissed as captain of city guard and placed under house arrest until the trial. I do not believe a date has been set for it yet, but from the rumours travelling the city, Magistrate Ianulin seems very keen on making an example of him as proof that justice will prevail for _all_ in Amn; I suspect it could reach the courts as soon as Nightal, barely a month hence!'

Silence followed his words, Fritha knowing she should say something, stood at the door with him as she was, though she could not quite think past the turmoil of her mind and at last Jaheira drew a breath.

'Well, we thank you for this news. Will you stay and take tea with us, ah…'

'Squire Dextis, m'lady and I fear I have other duties to attend to within the town and must press on. My thanks though and a good evening to you all.'

He bowed and left, Fritha shutting the door before turning slowly back to the room and returning to her place at the window, her rice now quite cold though it did not matter; she had rather lost her appetite. Their previous talk was slowly returning, the murmur of quiet conversations rippling about her feet, Jaheira explaining to the rather confused Cernd what it had all been about. Fritha did not listen to any of it though, instead staring out of the open window. The view from up there was quite beautiful, the town all lain out before her, warm and somehow mysterious in the glow of the street lamps while the surrounding forests were just dark silhouettes under the deep blue sky. The revelry in the main square was spilling out into neighbouring streets and she could hear the songs and the laughter of the tavern patrons far below her.

And she was suddenly struck by the same feeling she had had as she'd stared up at the amber speckled leaves just after Helenya's rescue, that sense that all the world's joys were fleeting fragile things never made to last and all that could be done was to enjoy them until they inevitably passed. Fritha turned back to the room, a bright smile plastered on her face.

'Here, let's go and have a walk about the town shall we?'

xxx

Aerie sighed slightly, trying to catch her breath as she finally stepped from the stairwell onto the fourth floor landing. Nice as it was having a whole floor to themselves, the climb was certainly a detraction. She smiled as she felt Haer'Dalis step up behind her, an arm snaking about her waist as he pulled her closer, the breathless quality to their kiss quite pleasant.

Aerie knew that her and Haer'Dalis's behaviour could be a little improper for company sometimes, but it was so difficult when they were so rarely able spend any time alone together; the life they led meaning they travelled, ate and even slept all as a group. She had enjoyed having dinner without the others for once; it was lovely having Haer'Dalis all to herself, just talking and enjoying his company, and it was something she was not quite willing to give up on just yet…

'What do you think the others are up to?' he asked as they parted and she had the sneaking suspicion he wouldn't have minded finding out first hand. She shrugged mildly.

'I don't know, perhaps still in Jaheira's room, I know Cernd was wary of going about the town; apparently the attitudes to druids, even ones who helped to save Trademeet, are still rather hostile and Fritha wouldn't have gone if they'd had to leave someone behind.'

'Indeed,' the bard confirmed with a careful nonchalance, 'Well, we need not seek their company just yet, we will have enough of it over the coming days, I am sure.'

Aerie smiled slightly. She knew Haer'Dalis was jealous of the attention the druid showed her, though it was hardly necessary; her heart was fixed most wholly upon the bard. And yet for all that, she could not deny it _was_ pleasant talking to someone like Cernd, the man so open and forthcoming. He had even admitted to her the circumstances under which he was first forced from the grove, and it was nice to be confided in, talking to someone who did not answer so many of her questions about his past with the rather morbid phrase, "Let the dead bury their dead".

'In fact,' Haer'Dalis continued enthusiastically, 'we have yet to look over any of the plays that I gifted you. We could retire to your room, my dove, read over a few scenes together? You cannot let your studies be neglected just because your life is all trials and adventure.'

Aerie felt her smile freeze on her face.

'Yes, all right.'

xxx

'H-Hold, I-I will be heard!' Aerie stammered for what felt like the hundredth time. It had all been going well enough; the pair acting out a few scenes together from her new set of plays and Aerie had been rather enjoying herself. That was until they had reached a more, what Haer'Dalis had called 'emotionally-charged' passage, the bard telling her to emote and project and not neglect her posture, and now she was so busy thinking on everything else she could barely get the words out.

'Ah, come along Aerie,' Haer'Dalis laughed genially, 'you can do better than that.'

'Hold, I-I _will _be heard!'

'Squeak, squeak, little mouse; really, my dove, I've seen modrons give readings more passion.'

'There!' she shrieked, finally loosing her temper, the volume leaving her hand before she could stop herself. 'Is _that _enough passion for you?'

'Aerie, that sodding hurt!' Haer'Dalis shouted, his usual air of unruffled poise somewhat lost as the man vigorously rubbed his forehead where the slim book had bounced off it. Aerie started back at him, horrified, when she felt it bubbling up inside her, beginning first in a smile, then a snicker and soon she was hiding her face in her sleeve as she giggled uncontrollably.

'Oh I'm sorry, Haer'Dalis. I'm sorry; it's not funny. But you have taken reluctance for timidity for too long. I- I long ago gave up any aspirations I had for the theatre and not through any worries that I was not good enough, it is simply not for me. I understand you mean to help me, to bring me out of myself, but I am no longer the timid young woman who travelled with the circus and I do not need it.'

'I can certainly see that!' he agreed vehemently though she was relieved to see he was smiling. 'Ah, I suppose I should have seen it for myself,' he continued with a sigh, moving to sit on the edge of her bed and patting the space next to him. 'The way you received the plays gifted you, with such a wooden smile. But why this deception?'

Aerie sighed as well, tentatively taking the place at his side.

'Well, in the beginning, you got on so well with… some of the others,' she finished after a pause and they both knew who she meant, 'and I just wanted to show you that I, too, could share such things with you. I do still like working on plays with you, but there is much less pressure and I can enjoy it much more when I'm not worrying about how I'm standing and projecting and, well, acting…' She glanced to him, her stomach tight, 'Are you angry I deceived you?'

He smiled gently, making a noise somewhere between a tut and a laugh as he threw an arm about her shoulders.

'No, no, sweet Aerie, but you must know, you won me on your own good merits alone and I like you no less for this revelation,' he tenderly hooked a stray curl behind her ear, his manner much graver than she was used to, 'Never doubt that, my love.

'Well,' he continued more brightly, clapping his hands together, 'what shall we do with our evening? I fear any more readings may be impossible even if you wanted too,' he grinned, glancing pointedly to the book which now laid open and discarded on the floor, 'Erudis is easily offended. We could take a turn about the market though; it still sounds quite merry even for the hour.'

Aerie just smiled, a strange mix of feelings welling within her. Though she was more than happy to find the bard's affections still true after her admission, she felt a little disappointed too, as though she had been counting on an argument that hadn't emerged. She quelled the feeling almost instantly.

'That- That would be lovely.'

Just a moment to collect her cloak and they were out in the hallway, their companions crowded further along the corridor as well, all fussing with bags and cloaks.

'Ah, we were just coming to call for you,' greeted Fritha brightly as she moved to join them, a pale Nalia at her arm, 'We're going out to the market square; do you want to join us?'

Haer'Dalis beamed. 'What chance, my raven, we were heading there ourselves. Well, the more the merrier, as they say.'

He went to proffer an arm to Aerie but Fritha was too quick, the girl stepping in to link arms with the elf, Aerie giggling brightly at Haer'Dalis's disgruntled expression.

'Too slow, sparrow,' Fritha laughed, 'remember: it's the early bird who catches the worm.'

'Do you mind?' cut in Aerie, slapping her arm playfully, 'Worm, indeed!'

But Fritha just laughed warmly, catching up Nalia's arm with her free hand as well, and together the three led the way.


	49. Summer's end

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Summer's end **

Fritha stretched slightly, the girl next to her murmuring quietly and Fritha lay still again, letting herself settle back into the crook of Nalia's arm. A shaft of pale sunlight had found its way through the chink in the curtains, opening a pane of light on the wall opposite and Fritha watched it brighten and fade with the passage of the clouds outside as she thought back to the previous evening.

Last night had been lovely, all of them walking about Trademeet enjoying the celebrations of the townsfolk. Her, Nalia and Aerie talking and laughing and teasing each other warmly, just as they had once always done before all the bards and burglary had got in the way of things and had made their simple friendship so complicated.

Cool smooth fingers began gently stroking her forearm, the warm body next to her stirring from sleep. Nalia had appeared at her door an hour or so before the dawn in slip and shawl saying she couldn't sleep and the pair had returned to Fritha's bed together, Fritha waking a couple of hours later in a tangle of limbs and linen.

A sigh next to her, the girl at her side stretching as she had, before propping herself up on an elbow to mumble a greeting.

'Good morning, dearest.'

Fritha smiled slightly.

'Morning. You managed to get some sleep then,' she confirmed and Nalia nodded, hiding her yawn under the edge of the blankets, her freckled nose crinkling with the gesture. Fritha's smile broadened. 'You look like you could use a few more hours.'

'No, no, I'm fine,' Nalia dismissed with a smile of her own, though she made no move to get up, instead settling back down next to her and the two lay in comfortable silence for a few moments more, before Fritha finally decided it was time to voice the question that had been haunting her ever since the girl had arrived so early that morning.

'So why couldn't you sleep then; you seemed tired enough when we retired last night.'

Next to her, Fritha heard the girl sigh.

'I was, but once I was laid in bed, I could not seem to stop thinking.'

'About?'

A pause, Nalia's voice, when it came, unusually quiet.

'About what Squire Dextis told us; about my keep.'

Fritha shifted slightly, but couldn't move very far: Nalia was laid on her hair.  
The girl had told her when they had first moved to expose Isea what it could mean for her, the man's control of her home void once his crimes had been proved.

'If Isea is found guilty then his claim on your lands will be no more,' Fritha heard herself say, almost as though challenging the girl to deny it. She felt Nalia shrug.

'There is a chance Lord Farthington Roenall, his father will put forward a case to keep it… it will all depend on the magistrates' decision in the end.'

Fritha's gaze travelled up to the ceiling, looking without really seeing. So this was it, the beginning of the end. Part of her had always known Nalia would not last the winter with them, the squire's news of Isea's trial last night merely putting a timescale on the thing. It would be only a few months before the outcome was decided one way or another, and Nalia could once more be mistress of her lands. Fritha would have to be mindful that any work did not take them too far from the city in the months to come, in case Nalia was needed before the magistrates.

'Are you all right, dearest? You seem…'

'Yes, I'm fine,' Fritha muttered, finally sitting and briskly throwing back the covers to get out of bed, lying next to the girl no longer the comfort it had been. 'We should get up; we've that meeting with Coprith today.'

'Yes. I should have a bath; do you need one?'

Fritha shook her head, still searching through her bag and not even looking up as she answered her.

'No, I had one last night when I came in.'

'Oh… I see.'

Fritha glanced up, Nalia still sat amongst the crumpled blankets looking a touch hurt, though resignedly so. Fritha sighed to herself. This wasn't anyone's fault; she couldn't blame the girl for wanting back the life that had been stolen from her. Nalia belonged at her keep, ruling her people justly as she had been brought up to do. Why, by the time the trial was over and the decision made, Imoen could be back with them; perhaps they could all find a home there…

'Well,' sighed Nalia, making to the throw the blankets off as well, 'I should return to my own room and make myself presentable, then.'

Fritha swallowed dryly; would she let the time they had left be ruined by the fact they may have to part?

'Will you wait a moment and dress my hair before you go?'

Nalia smiled.

xxx

Anomen stepped from the fourth floor landing and began the long descent downstairs. Yesterday's abrupt confirmation that the Order's judgement was mere days away had given rise to another bout of poisonous ill humour and he had been more than glad they had ventured from the inn to join the celebrations of the townsfolk. The general air of revelry had calmed his nerves, distracting him from his fate and by the time they had returned to the inn, the hour was late enough that he had no chance for worry then either, falling deeply into a dreamless sleep as soon as he had retired.

And then there was the presentation ceremony over at the Town Hall that morning, Anomen considered with some pride. Though he was sure it was probably too late for anything he did to influence the outcome of the Order's judgement, he felt that news he had been part of the group who were now being hailed as heroes of Trademeet certainly couldn't hurt. And it was on that thought he finally stepped down into the tavern.

Early though it was, he was not the first to have come down to breakfast it seemed. Fritha and Minsc were already sat at a table in the far corner, though he could barely see the pair for the press of people surrounding them: Minsc impressing a group of local youths with a story while at Fritha's side was stood a young man of the usual Amnian colouring, his features sculpted and handsome enough that Anomen could notice it.

'M'lady,' the man greeted with a slight bow, 'I am Osyill, a local bard, and it would be the greatest honour if I were to be able to put an account of your glorious quest to save Trademeet to song.'

'Oh, well, that's, ah, very kind of you.'

Anomen smiled slightly. It had been the same last night, everyone they met full of thanks and praise though it was something that was apparently easier to bear in numbers, Fritha an uncomfortable shade of pink as she smiled and nodded, though Minsc, at least, looked to be enjoying himself. The bard seemed undeterred by her discomfort though, Osyill still pressing his case.

'Indeed, all I would need is an hour or so of your time to get the details of the trials you faced. Perhaps we could discuss it this evening… over dinner?'

Anomen frowned as Fritha flushed even pinker.

'I, well- Ah, Anomen,' she called, spotting his approach through the press and looking relived for the interruption. Osyill stepped back slightly, allowing a grey-haired woman of late middle age, who looked to be wearing every piece of jewellery she owned, to take his place.

'My lady, let me offer my thanks for you and your group's worthy deeds. My family is as much indebted to you as any other in Trademeet, and though I can offer you no coin or song, I would like to show our appreciation nonetheless.' The women reached out with a rattle of gold bangles to cover the girl's hand with her own more bejewelled fingers. 'I am Sarina, my lady, one gifted with the True Sight, and would be more than happy to use my powers to your benefit should you wish to visit my home for a reading. Ask Vyatri for the directions, he knows of me.'

'Oh, ah, thank you, madam, you are most kind to offer.'

The woman nodded deeply and stepped back just as the maid appeared, a tray of cups and a teapot balanced on one hand and a trencher of bread and cheese set against the opposite hip, and everyone had the good manners to make their farewells and quickly depart, allowing them to begin their breakfast in peace.

'Hmm, a soothsayer; Boo sees trouble ahead.'

'Oh, Minsc… Good morning, Anomen, did you sleep well?' Fritha greeted as he finally arrived at the table. He had not noticed it before, but she seemed to have dressed for the presentation at the Town Hall, Nalia's green sash about her waist and her hair loose, pulled back from her temples with her wooden hairpins as it had been on the night she and Nalia had gone out dancing. And now Anomen glanced to Minsc, he thought the ranger's fine green tunic was one he had not seen before either.

'Very well, thank you, my lady,' Anomen answered, still wondering whether he should change into something more formal as well as he took a seat. 'I notice we are as no less popular this morning; did I hear correctly that one of the local women has offered to tell your fortune in her gratitude? You should attend, my lady. She can tell us if we are to have any trouble on our return to the city; forewarned is forearmed, as they say. '

He had meant it as a joke, such women know for peddling their "skills" at local festivals and fairs, and he laughed, expecting the other two to join him. But Minsc merely frowned, Fritha glancing between them with a wary look.

'Boo does not think you should go, young Fritha.'

'Boo does not think you should go where?' questioned Jaheira, suspicion clear in her narrowed eyes as she arrived to take a seat.

'To visit a fortune-teller,' answered Fritha. 'One of the local women has just offered me a reading. Do you recall that seer at the Midsummer's celebrations back in the Gate?'

Jaheira frowned. 'Yes, I do, and her ensuing hysterics. Do you really think you should accept this offer?'

'I'll think about it … I don't want to hurt her feelings,' Fritha sighed, nodding to the maid as she reappeared to set a basket of fruit before them, 'Thank you.'

Jaheira and Minsc shared a dark look, providing Anomen a moment of silence in which to give a voice to his mounting confusion.

'Am I to take it that you believe in such parlour tricks, my lady?'

Fritha shrugged mildly as she served herself some tea.

'Yes. Well, I believe the ones I've met so far anyway, in that I haven't had much luck with them.'

Anomen blinked, still none the wiser, as Fritha no doubt realised for, after a moment's pause, she took his hand, bringing it closer to her face, eyes narrowed and voice tinged with an accent he couldn't quite place.

'Ah, yes, my child, yes, you are new to this life, I can tell…' she breathed dreamily, stroking gently along his palm and causing him to colour uncomfortably, though she did not seem to notice. 'Along your lifeline I see a scholarly influence, you were well educated, child. But let us go further back, further… I see… _AH!_'

She cried out so suddenly she made him jump, Fritha dropping his hand as though it burnt, her fear apparent.

'Fritha-?'

'Nothing!' she cried, eyes wide as she shook her head, 'I see nothing. You-you will live a long and happy life, child. Back from me!' she shrieked as he tried to lay a hand upon her arm, 'Keep your gold, I'll not touch it!'

And just as suddenly the wildness was gone and Fritha was leaning back in her chair smiling gently, Jaheira shaking her head with a wry amusement while Minsc was sending the girl a reproachful look. Fritha sighed. 'And that is why I believe them.'

Anomen nodded once, still trying to find his voice. All an act, of course, but one that had scared him all the same. She seemed to read his thoughts on his face, for when she spoke again her voice was apologetic, though it still contained a hint of smile.

'I'm sorry, Anomen, did I frighten you?'

'A little,' he conceded graciously and her smile broadened.

'I'm sorry. I must admit, it worried me too when I first heard it, but…'

'You were worried when you first heard what?' came Aerie's voice behind him, Anomen turning to see the elf arrive at the table as well, Haer'Dalis and Nalia in tow.

Fritha grinned. 'When I first heard Lord Coprith is expecting a speech at the presentation ceremony- but I felt a lot better after I volunteered you for it, Aerie.'

'Oh, very funny,' said Aerie sarcastically, though she smiled and laughed with everyone else, Cernd joining them but moments later and the mood was light as they took breakfast together. But for all that, Anomen still felt a touch uncomfortable. He might not have understood the fuss before, but now he agreed with Jaheira and Minsc, and most wholeheartedly too. Fritha shouldn't be allowed within ten feet of any fortune-tellers if that was to be their reaction!

When he first learnt of her heritage he had been more focused on what dark influence her blood could have on her and he had overlooked the other ways it could affect a life. Her heritage was no doubt the reason she was sentenced without trial back in Candlekeep, and why she could not linger in the Gate after Sarevok's defeat, and even the mage, Irenicus's attentions now perhaps were clearer to him. And yet for all that, Fritha seemed so unspoilt for it, not bitter or angry or even wary, and it was easy to forget sometimes she was one of the Children, to the point where it was almost a surprise when he was reminded of it.

He glanced across the table to the girl, now giggling with Nalia as she slyly fished a stray curl from her teacup; he wondered if Jaheira and Minsc forgot about it too.

xxx

Fritha stared up into the lifeless grey eyes, the face in which they were set disturbingly familiar.

'By Baervar, this- I never would have dreamed…'

'Ha! It does make for quite the anecdote, doesn't it, my dove.'

'Minsc has never felt such pride; Boo weeps in his happiness.'

Fritha let their words drift over her, her eyes still travelling the features before her like some eerie stone mirror. All except for the expression, of course, the face wearing a look of solemn nobility. Fritha couldn't _ever _recall wearing an expression like that.

'Well, I think there's been quite a bit of artistic licence on mine,' she commented with a wry smile, finally tearing her gaze from the face of the statue to run an eye over the neat waves of its hair, 'Still I suppose _frizzy_ is quite a difficult effect to capture in stone.'

'Fritha!' laughed Nalia, slapping her arm and letting her hand linger after the contact, gently slipping it through her elbow to link arms with her.

The presentation ceremony that morning had been a simple enough affair, Lord Coprith merely lauding their services to the town for the benefit of the assembled nobles and guildmasters before handing Fritha a heavy purse to a background of polite applause. It was only when Coprith mentioned something about a lasting testament to their achievements that Fritha felt her nerves begin to prickle, the man leading the assembly outside into the public gardens to observe the park's latest addition.

Fritha took a step back, letting her eyes run over the statue as a whole. She was surprised how quickly it had been erected and suspected magic may have played a part, but if the craftsmanship had suffered because of it, she had yet to notice. In fact, the resemblances were perfect as far as she could tell, almost eerily so. Eight statues in light grey stone were grouped upon a large square plinth in the centre of the park that stood directly behind the Town Hall, as though to guard against future misfortune. Minsc and Anomen, being the tallest were at the back, Cernd and Jaheira at either end, while before them she, Nalia, Aerie and Haer'Dalis were stood, the tiefling more than pleased his shorter stature had earned him a place on the front row where, to use his own words "people could best appreciate him".

And the rest of the ceremony seemed to go by in a blur after that, Fritha unable to tear her gaze away from the statue above her as Coprith finished his speech and brought the ceremonies to a close, and Fritha had not moved since.

She stared up at her stone twin, the girl gazing off into the distance looking every inch the _hero_ Fritha was reputed to be. If she was honest, she felt a bit uncomfortable about the whole thing, but there was little she could do now and she suspected she was just being silly anyway; no one else seemed to feel similarly, she considered, as she watched the others gazing up at the statue with a mix of satisfaction and awe.

'Well,' Fritha sighed, more than happy to move on, 'I think I am going to make another attempt at selling our accumulated loot now the marketplace seems a bit more lively. Anyone else coming?'

Jaheira and Cernd predictably declined the offer. Cernd was still uncomfortable when out in the town, though there had been no trouble the previous evening and Fritha wondered if it wasn't just how he felt in _any _settlement larger than a village. Jaheira was happy to accompany him though, the two planning to walk out into the surrounding forests, and the rest of them joined Fritha, the group wandering about the market spending their share of the reward money while she tried to get decent prices for the assorted jewellery and weapons they had amassed since leaving the city.

'Right, what else?' Fritha muttered to herself as she took the two neatly folded tunics from the merchant with a nod of thanks and pushed them with some difficultly into her already stuffed bag. She normally wouldn't have bothered with such _indulgences_, even when, after months of travelling, at least one of her old tunics was more darning that cloth. But quite a few of the merchants seemed to be nursing hangovers that morning, no doubt caused by the previous night's excesses and though Fritha wasn't sure whether this was the cause or whether it had something to do with who they were, but she was certainly finding haggling at lot easier than usual. She had already sold Khan's sword for a very good price to a merchant dealing in rare arms, though her own purchases came from much more mundane stalls, the girl making sure to stock up on food and other essentials ready for the trip back to Athkatla on the morrow.

For a moment, she let her eyes travel those gathered about her, Aerie showing Nalia a necklace she had just bought while Minsc had invested in a new belt, the man adjusting and readjusting it, the new leather stiff and unyielding.

'I should really get a new sword as well, before we leave for the city,' Fritha continued to no one in particular, frowning down at the battered old blade that hung at her hip, a souvenir from the rakshasa's house. 'This one is far too long for me.'

'I noticed a place we passed just back around the corner, my raven,' offered Haer'Dalis, 'it looked to have a fair enough selection.'

They followed his advice and his lead, and soon the group were stood before a large square awning, three of the four sides hung first with canvas and then simple wooden frames, row upon row of swords hanging from pegs set into the wood and grouped according to price. Fritha stepped under the shelter of the canopy, ignoring the more ornate swords that rested on racks behind the thickset merchant's counter and letting her eyes drift over the rows of more reasonably priced weapons, Minsc taking down ones here and there for closer inspection.

'This one, young Fritha-' he began, and she turned to look at the sword he was proffering her when she stopped, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes fell upon a familiar blue enamel scabbard. With a hand that no longer felt like it was her own, she reached past Minsc and took the sword down, drawing it a foot or so from the scabbard and she felt as though she recognised every nick and scratch along the fine steel blade.

'It- it's my sword,' Fritha breathed, turning it over and over in her hands, running her gaze back and forth along its length as though still looking for some sign she was mistaken. Nalia sent her a puzzled frown.

'I thought you left your broken sword in the swamp?'

Fritha shook her head.

'No, not that one. It's the one I left Candlekeep with; the one Phlydia gave to me. It was gone from my belongings when we escaped from Irenicus's dungeon… I thought it lost forever.'

'And _what_, my raven, happened to your claims of,' the tiefling raised his voice in high falsetto, "a sword is just a sword, it is not anything to get attached to"?'

'Haer'Dalis!' scolded Aerie and Fritha sent him a rueful grin.

'Oh, see me eat my words.'

Haer'Dalis smiled, taking it from her to examine it as she had.

'Well, if you were going to get attached to anything it would be this. It is quite beautiful… let us see how much it is.' He glanced up to the racks to find the price, 'Hmm, three hundred gold pieces; hardly a king's ransom. Are you going to buy it?'

'Can I help you?' came a voice, smooth and obsequious, and Fritha turned with the others to see the merchant stood behind her. He was a stout man of Amnian colouring, though he certainly moved quietly for someone of his build and Fritha had the sudden feeling he had been listening to their exchange all along.

'Yes, my hound, we were looking to purchase this sword.'

The merchant smiled, taking the blade from the tiefling to glance it over, his face suddenly pulled into a pained frown, thick lips pressed together beneath his bushy black moustache

'Oh, no, no, what was this doing here? Why this sword should be over there,' he continued, gesturing behind him to a rack much closer to his counter. 'Why, for a blade of this quality, I could accept no less than five hundred.'

'I beg your pardon?' came Nalia sharply, pointing to the sign next to them, 'It says almost half that there!'

The merchant smiled sympathetically. 'An oversight, my lady; my son must have misunderstood me and placed it in amongst these lesser blades.'

'You,' growled Minsc, both Aerie and Anomen moving quickly to take an arm each as Fritha raised her hand to stall the ranger, the merchant looking rather alarmed, though it passed in the blink of an eye, the smooth ingratiating air about him once more.

'Now, sir, I am not an unreasonable man. I know of your services to our town, my lady, and since it is of such importance to you,' he made a show of giving the blade an appraising look, 'four hundred and fifty, not a coin less.'

Fritha recognised the opening to haggle when she heard it, but even bartering she knew he would not lower the price below the three hundred she had originally been hoping to negotiate on and the girl shook her head, beckoning to the others.

'Come on; it's not worth that, even to me.'

'But, my lady-' began Anomen, but she cut him off with a sweep of her hand.

'It's his to price as he wishes. Let some other poor fool get cheated.'

The merchant went to speak at this, whether to complain or to better his offer it did not matter, Fritha had already turned to continue on, the others following her, though some more reluctantly than others, and the rest of the day passed pleasantly enough. Fritha ended up with quite a haul in the end, buying a new blue woollen coat to wear under her cloak and some wolf pelts she intended to use as bedding now the weather was getting colder. She couldn't seem to find another sword though and eventually she gave up the search. She knew in her heart that buying one would have meant she had truly given up on her old one and she wasn't ready to do that just yet, resolving to return to the market in the morning before they left.

Their shopping done, they left the busy streets at Aerie's suggestion, stepping from the shelter of the walls to walk the outskirts of the town, finally coming upon the plain where the caravans had made their camp. It was all but deserted now, the remaining few merchants informing them that Fald and the two boys had left for Umar that morning, the man apparently _still _singing their praises from the day before.

It was late afternoon when the group set off back to the town, meeting Jaheira and Cernd quite by chance just inside the city walls. The pair had returned from their walk in good spirits and together they all took one last look about the fading marketplace, the crowds much reduced at that time of day and Fritha suspected that even Jaheira found pleasure in the diversion.

And it was as the temple bells tolled six, that they finally took a table outside The Foxhole, a tavern situated just on the edge of the town park, though the trees were numerous enough that a certain new addition to the scenery was not visible, something which Fritha was very glad of.

They took a meal and ended up spending the entire evening there, just drinking and talking, Fritha eventually putting on her new jacket against the chill as the sun set and the twilight drew in.

Fritha sighed, watching the soft glow of the lanterns strung above them. It was lovely sat there, the noise of the tavern at their back, the silent park before them and her in the half-light in between surrounded by friends. Haer'Dalis and Jaheira were squabbling amicably, while Aerie and strangely enough, Minsc, teased Nalia about the _attention _she was apparently getting from the young waiter who was keeping their table in drinks.

It was perfect, perhaps too much so, and Fritha knew it was not made to last.

xxx

The sun was up and the market was already starting to get busy as they left the main square. Breakfast had been a quiet affair that morning, Anomen joining Fritha and Nalia at the table, the girls explaining that everyone else was still busy trying to find room in their packs for their new purchases. And it seemed Fritha had had every intention of taking advantage of this distraction, the girl casually mentioning that she might go and visit the seer, Sarina since she'd the time. Once this was revealed, of course, he would hear nothing against his accompanying her and so the three had set off soon after, though Nalia walked with them only part of the way before she realised she had forgotten to buy more arrows yesterday and hurried back to the market, and that had left just the two of them.

Anomen drew a deep breath of sharp morning air. It was pleasant there, walking through the wide streets of Trademeet with Fritha in companionable silence, the girl looking nice in her new blue coat and old violet scarf. He had never much liked Athkatla, with all its crowds and corruption, and this trading town reminded him of the one near to the seminary he had grown up in, all tall stone houses with brightly painted gables. His family had a summerhouse similar up in the hills as part of their vineyards and when he was a boy, they would spend Flamerule and sometimes Eleasias there, when the humid Athkatlan heat was at its worst. He smiled to himself as he recalled the many happy summers he had spent there with Moira and his mother and he was suddenly struck with a pang of sadness as he realised that his family may not even own the place anymore; his father could have sold it to clear part of his debts, after all.

'Here,' came Fritha at his side, and he broke from his reverie to see her pointing down a wide avenue that branched off to their right, 'her house should be just at the end of this street.'

They took the turning, falling into step once more, a comfortable silence over them and they were almost halfway along the street before it was broken again.

'My lady, are you sure you wish to do this? If she is a charlatan, she will merely make something up and if she is not…'

He trailed off, unable to put the sudden anxiety he felt into words. Fritha just smiled though.

'Don't worry, Anomen, it will be fine. I'll tell her not to bother looking into my past -what's the point when I've already lived it anyway,' she laughed. Anomen sighed, wishing she would just try to take his concerns seriously for once.

'But, why would you want to risk her sensing… something in you?' he pressed, 'And if she truly has the skills she claims, do you not think she would be in the employ of kings?'

Fritha laughed brightly.

'Make up your mind, Anomen, you either believe she has the power or not- you cannot be worried about both. Ah, here we are.'

Anomen glanced back to their path as they rounded the curve in the street to see the tall neat house slowly swing into view, the woman he recognised as Sarina sat at a table outside sunning herself in the weak autumn sunshine as she drank from a stone tankard. She seemed oblivious to their approach though and as they drew closer he noticed she was not merely sat, but doing something with a Talis deck, a few of the cards fanned out on the table before her, the rest of the deck still in her hand, while at her elbow rested a small wooden box and a bag of faded purple silk.

Next to him, Fritha coughed politely and the woman opened her eyes, blinking a moment in the sunlight before she seemed to recognise them.

'Ah, my lady you have come,' she cried with a smile, tidying away the cards and rising to greet them properly, 'Ah and you have a gentleman with you; does he wish for a reading as well?'

Anomen dipped a stiff bow.

'No, thank you, madam; I merely came for the walk.'

'Indeed? Well, I hope it did you good, sir. Now, let us get started shall we, my lady,' Sarina smiled, returning her attention to Fritha and gesturing for the girl to take the chair opposite as she herself sank back into her seat to begin rummaging in the box, removing various bits of crystal and bone to place into the faded silk bag. 'Now I will need something from you, my lady, an item of great personal value.'

Anomen watched as Fritha's fingers moved to the cord at her neck without hesitation.

'Will this be okay?'

Sarina smiled, taking the smooth jade pendent in her hands, allowing her fingers to caress it a moment before she placed it in the bag with the others.

'Yes, yes, that will do nicely. And when is the day of your birth, my lady?' she continued, still adding things to the bag.

'I don't know.'

The woman glanced up at this, but eventually shrugged.

'I see. Well, no matter, no matter. Are you ready then, my lady?'

Fritha nodded brightly and Sarina smiled, closing her eyes to lay one gnarled hand over her smooth pale one, the bag held tightly in her other, their heads leaned in close as they began to talk quietly and Anomen moved away, taking a seat on a wall across the street to wait for them to finish. After all, a person's future should be their own.

xxx

Her shopping done, Nalia took a moment to sit on a wall at the edge of the main market square and watch the world go by, the chatter of the fountains a pleasant contrast to the low roar of people that filled the marketplace. They would be leaving for Athkatla within the hour, returning to that city to start anew the depressing search for work which would lead them who knew where, while all the time her keep's fate hung in the balance and she was powerless to do anything more than cling to the hope it would one day be hers again. Nalia sighed, trying not to let her thoughts take this dark path, though it was difficult not to brood so.

She was not sure when the young girl had taken a seat next to her, only that she was suddenly aware she was not alone. Nalia looked the girl over from the corner of her eye. The child was no more than seven summers, dressed for travel in a cloak and scarf, her dark hair neatly braided, while a small knapsack hung across her back. The girl noticed her looking to send her a tentative smile.

'Hello, you're one of the people who saved the town, aren't you?'

'Yes, that is so,' Nalia answered, not sure what else to add and launching straight into her question, 'Are you supposed to here alone?'

'Oh, yes. I'm waiting for the lady from the orphanage to come and collect me. My parents were killed by the nasty animals and I've been living at Waukeen's temple since. But the priests say it's time for me to go and be with other children.'

'Oh, I am sorry, I-'

'Nalia? Nalia de'Arnise?' came a clear bright voice behind her and Nalia turned to see a pretty young woman beaming down at her in well-made albeit plain cream robes, her blond hair tidied away in a bun at the nape of her neck. Nalia blinked feeling rather caught out.

'Ah, yes… I'm sorry but have we met? I don't seem to recall you.'

The young woman laughed warmly

'Oh that's hardly surprising. My name is Sophia, Sophia Arain. I was at St Hilaria's, though I was in a class a couple of years below yours and we rarely mixed. Hello, Theresa, isn't it?' she asked the girl kindly, the child nodding, 'I'm from St Sebastian's. Why don't you go and wait with Sister Brianny over there.'

Sophia pointed behind her, the girl jumping lightly from the wall to trot obediently over to a stout smiling woman in robes of cream trimmed in scarlet, her hair hidden beneath a neat white wimple.

'Sister Brianny- you're a nun?' asked Nalia, astounded one so young could take such a vow, but Sophia just laughed again.

'Oh, no, I'm just a lay sister. The Illmaterans run an orphanage just a few miles north of the town and I joined to help with the children… in fact,' she continued slowly, 'you might say _you_ inspired my current path.'

'I did?'

'Oh, yes,' Sophia continued earnestly, taking a seat next to her, 'You and I may not have spoken much at school, but you were a legend in your own right. Us younger girls all knew about you sneaking out at night and the way you helped the local poor, though I am ashamed to say we were more probably impressed by the idea you were breaking the rules than by your charity.'

'They spoke about me? I never even realised…' Nalia muttered, half to herself. She had known her own friends thought her behaviour merely eccentric. She had never even considered the possibility that others could have seen something to admire in her actions.

Sophia smiled kindly and nodded.

'I did not really think about it at the time, but after I returned home to Crimmor, I began to notice it more and more: the beggars and the barefooted children and the mothers with more mouths than they could possibly afford to feed. I could not believe I had just never even _noticed _them before. My eyes had been opened and once I knew there was a problem, I wanted to help too.' She smiled wryly. 'My family all thought I was mad, of course. We are not of the nobility, but my father owns a successful business importing exotic goods and he was most displeased I was ruining the family name by "_slumming"_. My parents arranged a marriage for me far north in Waterdeep, so I ran away from home and the local priest at the Illmateran almshouse I had been helping arranged for me to get a position here. Ah, listen to me chattering on,' she laughed brightly, 'and to _you _no less. My work must pale next to what you have accomplished. A hero of Trademeet! I should have known you would end up eschewing the blessed life of the nobility to work for the common people.'

Nalia smiled weakly, the girl's admiration rather embarrassing, especially when considering how she really felt about her current lot.

'It wasn't quite like that, to be honest. Once I left school and returned home, I was just helping people as I had always been when, late this Eleasias, my keep came under attack. My father was killed and when I refused to honour my betrothal I lost my home as well. The group who had helped take back my keep kindly let me travel with them. We still help people, of course, but it's different from before… We tend to fight bandits and monsters rather than injustice and though we save people we are also keeping them as they have always been: poor, oppressed…'

Nalia trailed off, almost surprised to find someone there next to her, though the girl merely smiled gently.

'You sound as though you've lost your way.'

'Perhaps I have…'

'Well, forgive me if I overstep my bounds, but we are forever in need of people at the orphanage; you could always join with us.'

Nalia stared at her.

'Join with you? Become a lay sister as you have?'

Sophia nodded mildly and Nalia turned away, still astounded. She was hardly able to imagine a life different from the one she had then and yet…

For so long now she had been struggling on, trying her best to ignore the bitter weather, almost constantly cold and tired, and for a long time now there had been only one thing keeping her there. Or should she say, one person, and Nalia felt a weight descend upon her as she imagined being parted from the girl who had for so long been her friend.

And yet Sophia had been right, she _had_ lost her path. She had never wanted to be a _hero_, saving towns and fighting _evil_. All she had ever wanted was to help people as individuals, working within the bounds of society to change the rules for the better, making Amn a more just land for all, and for the first time in an age Nalia could see her way clearly.

As a lay sister at an Illmateran orphanage, she could make a sound case for herself, showing to the magistrates when the time came, that she had settled down; her months travelling as a mercenary merely overlooked as a wildness of her youth. She could prove to them that she had the maturity and the wisdom to rule her lands in justice and peace just as her father had before her.

'I- I would need to speak with my group.'

Nalia heard the words and it took her a moment to realise it was _she_ who had spoken them. Sophia smiled, her blue eyes warm.

'Of course, though I should warn you, if you wish to come with us now you will have to hurry. The journey is not an arduous one, but we have children travelling with us and the priest wants us to make the whole way in daylight. We depart Trademeet within the hour.'

'So soon?' Nalia cried. Everything was moving so quickly. Perhaps she should wait a while, return to Athkatla with others and make her decision then.

_To what end?_ whispered the voice behind her eyes, sad and resigned, and Nalia felt herself swallow past the sudden lump to her throat.

This moment had been coming for some time now, at first no more than a dream, the possibility that her keep could one day be returned had slowly coalesced before her until it was now there, so close she felt all she had to do was reach out and take it. And yet she could not, not with the life she led now, so far from the expectations society had for one such as her…

Nalia drew a breath. She knew what had to be done. She had known this decision would have to be made ever since their meeting with the Squire Dextis. So what was it to be: Fritha or her keep? She could not have both…

Nalia closed her eyes, quelled the screaming of her heart and chose.

'I will come.'

xxx

Fritha turned back for one last friendly wave at Sarina, the old woman merrily sending her a wave in return before Fritha returned her attention to their path, Anomen at her side as they made their way back to the inn.

'So, how was it, my lady?' began Anomen as soon as they were out of earshot and Fritha smiled. She knew he had been concerned, sat on the wall for a good hour as he waited for her and though she was rather disappointed with the outcome of her reading, she was pleased nothing had happened to worry him further.

'Well, I told her not to look too far ahead -some things are best left as surprises- so she just looked a short way and it was just the usual fortune-teller nonsense from then on; all hazy figures and vague predictions, though no hysterics, as you saw, so Minsc and Jaheira at least will be pleased. No,' she sighed, feeling her regret anew, 'it was all a bit disappointing really, what was it she told me now… She sees a great deal of coin in my future; no surprise there. And I'm to face trials and suffering; also a bit of a given with our line of work. What else, what else, oh and I will betrayed by one who I defended to others and will lose a friend, oh, and I'm going to meet the obligatory tall dark stranger; only it will be a woman in this case.'

Fritha laughed, cheered by her own wry humour, Anomen nodding once and clearly trying to hide his relief.

'Indeed, well perhaps that is all for the best,' he smiled and they carried on their way in a heavy silence a moment before Anomen asked his question. 'My lady, I could not help but overhear-' Fritha raised an eyebrow at this and Anomen had the decency to look embarrassed before continuing, '-that you do not know the date of your birth.'

'That's right.'

'But you said that Imoen gave you your pendant on your birthday,' he pressed, gesturing slightly to her neck and the jade stone they both knew was hidden beneath her scarf.

'She did indeed,' Fritha replied looking unconcerned and feeling rather amused by Anomen's growing confusion.

'But- Well, that is-'

'Anomen, just because I don't know the exact date of my birth, doesn't mean I didn't have a birthday.'

'Didn't?' he questioned, noticing the tense.

Fritha shrugged.

'Well, it's rather difficult to gauge now I'm no longer in Candlekeep.'

Unsurprisingly, Anomen persisted to look confused and Fritha toyed with the idea of leaving it at that, suddenly unwilling to share the truth of the thing and dredge of old memories. But it seemed unkind and finally she relented with a sigh.

'I was about seven years old when Imoen came to Candlekeep and we were friends almost from that very day, so it was not long before she too found I had no birthday. I remember, it was late summer and we were stood by the main gates, hiding from the guards who would have sent us back to the keep proper had they known we were out. We were talking about our ages; Imoen just couldn't believe I was older than her.

'And when she found out I had no birthday, the poor girl had looked distraught. "What, no _presents_?" she had cried. But then Imoen had seemed to steel herself, as though this _doom_ was something she could save me from, and she'd looked at me a long while, taking in every feature before her face had suddenly brightened and she was dragging me to the gateway and pointing out to the verdant woods beyond it. "See that tree out there?" Imoen had said, pointing to the huge beech tree that grew just outside the gate, so tall we could not see the top from where we stood, "Well, the day the first leaf turns, that shall be your birthday."'

Fritha laughed brightly, the memory of it all warming her.

'I swear, we used to have such fun in early autumn, sneaking down to the gate everyday to see if it was my birthday yet. One year the weather was so mild I had to wait till Uktar!'

She glanced up to find Anomen watching her with an unreadable look.

'But now you have left Candlekeep, you do not have one at all.'

Fritha shrugged mildly. He didn't understand. Her birthday wasn't about gifts or celebrations for her. It was a game she had played with Imoen back in Candlekeep; an intangible link to her friend and home, and she would rather never have a birthday again than just pick a new date and move on, resigning it to the past, never to happen again. She was aware of the growing silence between them though and sent him a smile.

'I still have a birthday, Anomen; I just don't know when it is. Come on,' she continued, quickening her pace, suddenly wanting to be around more people, 'the others will be wondering where we are.'

xxx

Nalia let the wax cool a moment before she stamped it with her seal, hurriedly throwing that, her wax stick and the leftover parchment back into their case before putting that too in the open bag at her feet, the letter she had just sealed left on the dresser, for the moment forgotten.

Everyone had been downstairs taking breakfast when she'd arrived, Nalia explaining that Fritha and Anomen had gone to visit the seer before she had given them her own more grim news. The silence that had greeted it had been almost unbearable, the group sending each other dark uncomfortable looks as though no one quite knew what to say, before, at last, Jaheira had risen to speak for all of them, saying that she understood her reasons and that she would be missed, the woman embracing her with an affection Nalia had rarely seen from her before.

Nalia had left the table soon afterwards, rushing upstairs to pack and all the time worrying what she would do if Fritha did not return before the Illmaterans arrived to collect her. Nalia sighed, straightening to quickly scan about her for anything else she would need, but the room was clear of her belongings, save for her cloak which still lay on her bed next to her old bow.

_The group's bow,_ she corrected herself and for a moment she lost herself in memories of that day, stood at the hidden sally-port before the keep, the trust Fritha had placed in her as she had handed her the bow and had allowed her to join them in the attempt to rescue her father. They had failed in that but at least the Keep had been won back. And it had been the same ever since, the girl giving her a home when her old one was lost to her, even risking her own safety to help her expose Isea. However bad things seemed, Fritha was always there with a ready smile and Nalia was suddenly struck with a deep sense of sadness as she considered that it could be some time before she would see it again. She stood for a moment, not shying from the feeling, but letting the weight of it impress itself upon her heart, before she realised she was supposed to be rushing and threw on her cloak, the girl finally taking the letter up from the dresser behind her. It was time.

xxx

'Ah, here we all are!' Fritha greeted brightly, the group all glancing up as she arrived at their table with Anomen, 'Finally managed to get everything packed or will I need to buy a mule?' she laughed.

'Fritha…' began Jaheira, her face grave and Fritha frowned.

'What's wrong? Were you worried I'd gone to visit the seer? Please don't be, she just spouted some rubbish about hardships and dark strangers. She even said I was going to lose a friend of all things! I told her I was _way_ ahead of her there.' Fritha laughed again, her smile fading as no one joined her and she was about to ask again what was wrong when Nalia arrived at the table, a cloak about her shoulders and pack on her back and Fritha felt the words die in her throat as she saw the guilt in her friend's eyes.

'Fritha, could I talk to you outside a moment?'

Fritha just nodded, mutely following the girl out and they walked a few paces from the tavern door before Nalia stopped turning back to her, the bright autumn day a cruel mockery of the cold void Fritha could feel swelling just under her ribs.

'Fritha, I- I met someone when I went to the market, a girl who I knew from school. She is a lay sister at an Illmateran orphanage just north of here and she says there is a place for me there if I want it.'

Fritha said nothing; the cold had suddenly engulfed her heart and it was all she could do to keep breathing as Nalia took her hand, suddenly desperate.

'I'm so sorry, I just can't live this life anymore; always cold, always tired. But it's not just the travelling. With Isea going to trial there's a good chance I can get my keep back, but it will be impossible if I'm still viewed as Lord de'Arnise's wayward daughter. I will need to show the magistrates I can be trusted with the responsibility of leadership and I need to be somewhere stable where I can send and receive correspondences concerning the trial.'

Nalia was staring down at her, eyes wide as though she was not sure what she would say, but Fritha knew how she had suffered these last tenday. What other answer could she give?

'I understand, Nalia.'

Nalia shook her head, her desperation replaced by a melancholy relief.

'Oh, my dearest, these last few months have been like a dream.'

Fritha smiled gently. 'You don't mean a nightmare, do you?'

Nalia gave a shaky laugh.

'No, no. I've made friends, helped people, done things I never could have imagined myself doing; it is the first time I've felt truly free since I was a child. But it cannot last, not at the expense of others. My lands need me and once my title is re-instated, I can work towards making Amn a more equitable place for all. Oh, Fritha…'  
And however much Nalia said the words and knew them to be true, it was still such a wrench leaving her. And Fritha was just stood there, all kind and warm and accepting, just as she had always knew she would be. Nalia dipped her head as the tears began to fall.

'Oh, come now, dearest, don't cry; it is for the best, you know it is,' Fritha soothed, taking her scarf off to wind it gently about Nalia's neck and wipe an end across her cheek.

'Oh, no, you'll be cold, Fritha.'

But she smiled gently and shook her head.

'No, I won't. Here, take this. For the orphanage.'

Nalia received the small purse with a swallow and a nod.

'Thank you And I know I should be ashamed to ask something of you after all this, but could you grant me a favour, please?' she continued shakily, removing a thick square of folded parchment from her robes. 'I've written to my aunt informing her of my plans and asking for her cooperation and support, though I don't know if she'll grant it. Could you deliver it to her on your way back to the city?'

Fritha smiled.

'Of course, dearest.'

Nalia handed her the letter, still sniffing, the tears falling more quickly now as they both sensed their parting was nigh, Nalia pulling her into a fierce embrace, the pair whispering fervently to each other.

'Write to me when you can, _please_.'

'I will, dearest, I promise.'

'And you must come and visit, you and Imoen both.'

'We will come together, as soon as we can.'

'And when I've my lands back, you will come and stay with me?'

'Nothing would make me happier.'

They had parted now, Fritha staring up at her dry-eyed, Nalia's face shinning wetly as she looked down at her, drinking in every feature of her face as though she thought she could take enough for the coming months apart.

'Nalia?' called a voice and Fritha glanced over her shoulder to see a young blonde woman dressed for travel, a knot of similarly clothed men and women behind her, a dark-haired girl peering shyly around her skirts.

'They need you,' said Fritha quietly.

Nalia seemed to be about to say something more but shook her head, words failing her and Fritha did not blame her; what could be said? The girl just handed her their bow, embraced her one final time and turned to hurry over to them. Fritha watched her until they rounded the corner and were lost from sight, Nalia never once looking back.

xxx

They had left the table in silence. No one had spoken since the two girls had departed, everyone just sat, insular and avoiding each other's gaze, and yet Jaheira could sense the shared tension that linked them all as they waited for the inevitable fallout. Anomen was still stood by the table where Fritha had left him, though he eventually seemed to realise and sat down as well, another few moments crawling slowly by before the door banged open and he was on his feet again, Jaheira standing too as Fritha entered.

She looked distrait, almost dazed as she crossed to their table, standing before them a moment, just letting her eyes travel over them all until she finally spoke.

'She is gone,' she said simply, and Jaheira felt something inside her twist at the bleakness in her voice.

'My lady-' began Anomen.

'Ah, not right now, eh, Anomen?' Fritha cut in quietly, shaking her head, 'I think I just need to…'

She trailed off, letting the sentence hang unfinished over the table as she turned and disappeared upstairs.

Jaheira felt herself slump back into her seat, Anomen mirroring the movement as silence returned to the table, though it was different from before, everyone sharing questioning glances and Cernd let his bag drop from his shoulder with a sigh. It seemed everyone realised they wouldn't be going anywhere for a while and Jaheira felt suddenly angry. Not with the fact their journey was to be delayed or that Nalia had left, but at the world in general. Just when the girl had found some happiness the Fates had seen fit to snatch it away again! She could feel her anger building within her, hands slowly clenching beneath the table, just waiting to snap.

'Should- should someone go and speak to her?' came Aerie quietly.

'By Silvanus!' Jaheira snapped, slamming a fist onto the table with a ferocity that made them all jump and she was halfway to the stairs before anyone had recovered enough to call after her. Not that she paid them any mind, the woman taking the stairs two at a time as she tried to wear out her anger. _Talk!_ _Speak_ with her! It was all she ever seemed to be able to do and it was _useless_!

She was at the fourth floor before she even realised it, short of breath and still full of temper though she curbed it, moving swiftly to Fritha's door to knock lightly. There was no answer and though she knew it was pointless, Jaheira tried the handle anyway. It was locked.

'Fritha?'

She heard a click, feeling the knob shudder beneath her hand and she opened the door to find the girl laid upon the bed staring at the ceiling with no sign of having moved. Jaheira said nothing, just closed the door behind her and took the chair before the dresser, a silence holding them until-

'I always knew she would leave, but I hadn't thought it would come so soon…'

Jaheira swallowed, her throat tight.

'I know. I am sorry. I know it can be hard to lose a friend.'

'Friend,' Fritha snorted wetly, rolling on to her side to face her.' She was my friend, yes, but it was so much more… I mean, I thought- I felt…' The girl pressed her lips together, turning her face away as the tears began to fall. 'It hardly matters now; she has gone.'

There was no bitterness to her voice, only resignation, and Fritha even managed a watery smile as she turned back to her.

'I'd really rather not leave today; do you think anyone will mind?'

'No…' Jaheira answered quietly, hearing her cue to return the conversation to more mundane matters. 'I was speaking to Cernd earlier. He has asked if he can travel with us for a while; he wants to see more of these lands.'

'Yes, fine, whatever you wish,' Fritha sighed, lying back down once more and Jaheira waited a moment, letting the silence swell around her before she decided there was no more to be done then, the woman crossing the room to draw the curtains against the day, leaving the girl in the gloom.

Downstairs, life had returned to the table and she paused at the foot of the stairs to watch them. Haer'Dalis and Aerie, his arm about her as he comforted the elf, Cernd watching them, a hand still gripping his bag strap as though still he held an unconscious hope they would be leaving that day. Anomen was next to him, his face unreadable and Minsc…

Jaheira watched as the ranger glanced up and caught her eye, a question clearly etched on his broad plain face.

Jaheira sighed and shook her head.


	50. A round of Hearts

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. Nor do I own _Words, Wide Night_ by C A Duffy. I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

_Author's note: Goodness, fifty chapters! How I laugh now when I look back at old drafts of this story and realise I had estimated the whole thing being finished in thirty. __Sincere thanks to everyone who has stuck with it this far, especially to those who took the time to let me know what you thought, and thanks, as ever, to my betas, Drew, Maje and Ella. _

**A Round of Hearts**

Anomen sat, ignoring the bustle of the tavern about him as he waited patiently for the maid to come and take his order. He was the first of their group to arrive at the table and had signalled the maid not long after, but there only seemed to be one girl serving that evening and the tavern was busy, so he suspected it would be a while before their meal would be served. Though, with the way things had been last night, he had almost considered taking it in his room. They had not left the previous day as planned, not once Nalia's departure had come to light, the day spent just wandering listlessly about the town once more, and yesterday evening could hardly be described as a pleasant one.

The tavern had once more been filled with music and merriment, no one in the town quite ready to end their celebrations just yet it seemed, and their table had a steady stream of patrons, people coming over just to talk with them, everyone seemingly resolved to make them feel included, more than a few young women of the town happy to provide a partner for the dancing as the band struck up. Something Haer'Dalis had been more than willing to take advantage of, the man trying to convince Aerie to take to the floor with him though the elf had refused his every request, just sat staring dispiritedly into her cup, the bard's insistences that some dancing would likely go a long way to cheering her, seemingly ignored.

'Well, perhaps I don't want to be cheered up!' she had eventually snapped in sharp reply, and Anomen had suddenly realised that Nalia's leaving must have been painful for her as well as Fritha, the three of them good friends from almost the very beginning.

Anomen frowned slightly. He too would miss Nalia, the man recalling her pale freckled face, the dignified air she usually carried with her never quite hiding the mischievous glimmer to her eyes. The way she strived so earnestly for what she believed was right, however her peers had derided her because of it. To have such unwavering faith in one's own beliefs… Anomen smiled wryly to himself; he was almost jealous, now he thought about it.

Needless to say, Haer'Dalis had given up on trying to get Aerie on the floor after that and when the next friendly young thing came over with an offer to dance, he was more than happy to take her up on it. Aerie had said nothing at the time, but there was a most definite atmosphere over the table when he returned moments later and Anomen had retired soon after. It was all the greatest shame really, he considered, for Fritha would have been more than happy to provide the bard with a partner and that would have solved all the problems.

But she had not been seen again since disappearing the previous morning and the group had spent the two days since within the town, looking about the stalls, wandering about the park and even visiting the local temple to Waukeen. People, of course, recognised them, (with the newly erected statue, Anomen felt he would have difficultly finding someone in the town who did _not_) merchants and citizens alike greeting them as they passed, some even stopping to talk, inquiring of their current plans, their next adventure. Some even noted Fritha's absence, though Jaheira just told anyone who asked she was resting in her room, something which was easy to maintain; whenever _he_ passed under her window the curtains were drawn.

Anomen sighed slightly to himself as Jaheira finally arrived at the table with Cernd in tow, the pair nodding their greetings. Anomen hadn't seen much of the man since they had left the forests and to be honest, he was still unsure as to what to make of him. The fact that he was a werewolf would have once been a cause for alarm, and Anomen wondered now at how readily he had just accepted it, unsure as to whether this more tolerant manner he had acquired was a good or a bad thing.

As for the man himself, well, he only really spoke to Jaheira and Aerie, around whom he seemed to be a wholly different person, the man always ready with a quiet smile for the elf. Cernd seemed to have no worries about letting anyone know of his regard for the girl and Anomen could have derived some petty satisfaction in seeing one as suave as Haer'Dalis jilted. But he had travelled with the tiefling a while now and seen his affections were more than genuine and Anomen felt his loyalties lay with the bard, whatever their differences had been in the past.

He looked over the druid now, sinking stiffly into his chair as though uncomfortable in his own skin. He had been the same last night, even now when the townsfolk were behaving more warmly towards him, treating the man as they had any of them, Jaheira included, for they had always seemed to feel she had been on their side. Not that Jaheira would have let it bother her even if they hadn't, Anomen considered as the woman sat down opposite him.

'Ah, Anomen, have you been here long?'

'Long enough to signal the maid; she should not be too much longer. Have you spoken to Fritha yet today?'

'Briefly this morning through her door,' she answered shortly, seeming glad of the interruption as two more arrived at their table, 'Ah, Minsc and Aerie.'

Cernd immediately put a hand on the back of the chair next to him, offering it to the elf, Aerie smiling as she took the seat, while Minsc sank in to the space next to him.

'Have we ordered yet?' asked Aerie, though no one was given the chance to reply.

'A good evening to you all,' greeted Haer'Dalis smoothly as he arrived as well, taking the empty seat on the other side of Aerie though both pretended not to notice this, 'any sightings of the raven?'

Jaheira shook her head.

'Perhaps she is ill…' offered Aerie quietly.

A moment of silence seemed to hold the table until-

'She is not ill,' rumbled a deep voice, all eyes turning to rest on Minsc, Jaheira trying and failing to hide her surprise.

'You have _seen_ her?'

'Yes, this morning. I told her Boo was worried for her so she let us in to set his mind at ease. She seemed very… tired.' The ranger trailed off with a pained look, returning his attention to his hamster. Jaheira drew a breath and continued briskly, as though to dismiss their worries as a whole.

'Oh, well, there you have it then. I shall just have a meal sent up to her room.'

Anomen dropped his attention to the table and said nothing. If truth be told, concerns for Fritha were not the only worries pressing on him. With the girl sequestered in her room and no sign yet of her return, the date of his test drew ever closer with them no nearer to the city. He didn't think he could stand a few months more of this agonising uncertainty if he was forced to wait until the winter ceremonies in Hammer, but there was no way he had any intention of voicing his concerns, to either Fritha or anyone else. If he missed it, then so be it. Anomen felt his stomach lurch unpleasantly and forced his attention back to the conversation still going on around him.

'Now, I spoke to Fritha yesterday', continued Jaheira with a glance to the druid sat next to her, 'and Cernd is going to be travelling with us for a while.'

A murmur of welcome travelled the table, Aerie looking quite pleased by this while the tiefling was infinitely less so and Anomen suspected Haer'Dalis was about to say something by the spark of malevolent wit he could see in his narrowed black eyes, when the maid finally arrived at their table and the moment was fortunately lost.

'Right, what can I be getting for you good folk?'

Jaheira straightened slightly in her seat, the girl immediately focusing her attention on her.

'Well, firstly, I should like something to be sent upstairs to-'

'Fritha!' interrupted Aerie in greeting and Anomen glanced up to see the girl herself weaving her way across the tavern, smiling mildly and looking determinedly well as she arrived at their table.

'Hello everyone- Er, are you going somewhere, Anomen?' she questioned, her smile taking on a bemused air and he only then realised he was on his feet. He flushed and sat down abruptly as she sank into the empty chair next to Jaheira.

'Er, will you be needing a few moments more?' prompted the maid politely.

'No, no,' dismissed Jaheira hastily and she ordered their food, a more relaxed air descending over the table as they took their meal together.

Fritha was clearly trying to be bright, but she looked tired for all her time spent supposedly resting and her gaze seemed to fall on the table's remaining empty chair with depressing regularity, Haer'Dalis making an admirable effort to distract her with talk and jokes. The bard met with failure more than success though and Aerie, too, seemed unimpressed by his behaviour, turning pointedly to begin a conversation with Cernd though she did agree to accompany Haer'Dalis when he asked her to join him at the bar with the excuse of getting more drinks, Anomen moving into the empty seat next to Fritha to fill the breach.

'How are you, my lady?' he began quietly, feeling suddenly uncomfortable as all he had planned to say suddenly left his head. The girl glanced up from her cup, smiling faintly.

'A bit tired of people asking me how I am, but ultimately fine.'

Anomen swallowed, the feelings of discomfort only growing as an empty silence seemed to swell between them, the laughter of the young men on the table nearest to them filling the void as the waitress arrived to clear their empty cups, one of the men pulling her neatly on to his lap.

'Eee, flower, ye've a pair of hips no man could help but want to grab a hold of.'

Anomen bristled, affronted on the girl's behalf.

'Such boorishness should not be directed at any lady, be they a milkmaid or a queen!'

'Well, she didn't seem to mind, did she?' said Fritha mildly, watching as the girl giggled brightly, her cheeks flushed as she batted him off and resumed her work, 'Besides, for him that was probably the highest of compliments; it's not the words, Anomen, but the sentiment behind them.'

Anomen raised an eyebrow.

'So you would wish to be addressed as such, my lady?'

'Well, perhaps not,' she conceded with the slightest of smiles, 'but it doesn't stand that I would want to be pursued with poetry and torch-song either.'

'And just how would you wish to be pursued?'

'I don't know really, it's nothing I've ever considered… Why? Were you planning to try, that you enquire so?'

He didn't answer, but she was laughing for the first time that evening, and so much so, that she did not seem to notice. A tug at his sleeve caused him to turn, Anomen's attention first drawn to Minsc though the ranger merely nodded across the table and Anomen followed the gesture to Jaheira's stern visage, the druid shuffling a Talis deck and eyeing him shrewdly.

'Yes, my lady?

'I _said_ do you wish to play, Anomen?' she paused to smile knowingly, 'A round of _Hearts_ perhaps?'

xxx

Aerie stood at the bar, eyes drifting unseeing over the shelves of bottles behind it as the landlord walked up and down serving his waiting patrons. Nalia's departure had taken her by surprise, though it did not seem so sudden to some of the others and ever since Aerie had been worrying that had she noticed the true extent of friend's unhappiness before, she could have at least eased her burden. Aerie sighed. The group had felt so complete before, as though they would always be together travelling as they did now. But Nalia's leaving had pointed out the fragility of her place in the world and the elf could not help but wonder how long their group would last and what she would do if it did not. Return to the circus? Stay with Haer'Dalis? She was not sure…

In the beginning everything had felt so right, but lately she had been finding it increasingly difficult not to dwell on how little she actually felt she knew him, the man almost a stranger to her even after all that time. She had grown up believing that to find love was to find someone who completed you, that filled the hole you had not before even realised even existed within yourself. And though she did love Haer'Dalis, it still always felt as though something was missing between them.

'Ah, the poor raven,' began the man next to her, Aerie following Haer'Dalis's gaze back to the table they had just left. 'She has taken this all rather to heart.

Aerie felt a tightness just under her ribs, his obliviousness to her worries only making it worse. The bard had hardly spoken to her since their sharp words the previous evening and Haer'Dalis had been distant at breakfast, merely accepting her apology before leaving the tavern on his own business and she had not seen him again until dinner when he had instantly turned his attentions to Fritha. Aerie thought this request to join him at the bar would lead to an apology or at least some explanation from him, but all he seemed interested in was talk of his _raven_. Next to her, she heard him sigh deeply.

'Ah, such things will always plague those who cannot accept the natural entropy of the world.'

'I _suppose _so,' Aerie muttered, not even trying to hide resentment in her tone as he fell back on his usual doom-laden philosophies. Haer'Dalis turned to her, looking irritatingly surprised.

'What is wrong, my dove? You have been cool towards me all evening.'

Aerie felt her temper surge; he had been ignoring _her_ all day.

'No, I haven't,' she dismissed airily, 'Besides, how would you know? You've hardly spared me glance since you sat down.'

That got a reaction, the man straightening slightly to raise a cool eyebrow.

'I am surprised you noticed _where_ my eyes were, my dove, considering your attention was most fixedly_ elsewhere_.'

Aerie felt herself flush, his insinuation quite clear and she was suddenly recalled to that evening and the warm talk she had shared with the druid. She was finding the man's attention rather enjoyable, though she knew she should not be, her voice coming slightly shrill in her discomfort.

'That is different. Cernd is new to our group; I was just trying to make him feel welcome.'

Haer'Dalis sent her a patronising smile.

'Come now, Aerie, this sparrow would be the first to say that the innocent air suits you, but you_ can_ use it over much. Last night and now this eve as well have been spent with you and Cernd twittering away to each other. _You _may be content to think it all innocuous friendship, but you are the only one of the pair who does.' Haer'Dalis sent the druid a dark look across the crowded tavern, 'He favours you.'

Aerie bristled, cross at how the idea thrilled her and throwing herself into their quarrel to distract herself from it.

'Oh, so that means I cannot even speak to him then -even when _you_ are ignoring me!'

'Ignoring you?' Haer'Dalis repeated looking for a moment astounded, when a darkness she had never seen before seemed to veil his eyes. 'I was focusing my attention most_ wholly _upon you yesterday, trying to cheer you with talk and dance only to be soundly rebuffed. Now, today, I tried to give you the space and time alone to grieve your loss as you seemed to want and it is still wrong!'

Aerie swallowed, the tension in her chest suddenly gone, replaced by the most awful weight as she realised her mistake. She tried to form an apology, gathering the words to explain herself, but he left no pause for her to even start, his voice measured and low

'Were we in Sigil, were this sadness plaguing anyone but you or she, I would have reminded you that all things are meant to end and left it at that. But being _foolish_ enough to try and fathom what you Primes could _possibly_ want in such a situation, I tried to cheer Fritha this eve as best I know how, just as I tried with _you _yesterday –_and_ met with the same amount of success. Though at least the raven seemed to appreciate the fact I was trying, and entirely against my nature too! Ah, enough of this quarrelling, I am gone.'

He turned on his heel and swept off before she could halt him, her cry lost in the general din of the common room.

'Haer'Dalis!'

xxx

Cernd stared down at the seven cards he held with not much care as to the fact he hadn't even one matching pair. _Three's Bane_ had been decided upon in the end, a simple enough game that was better suited to their odd number of players, though no one seemed to be taking it particularly seriously anyway. Minsc was on one side of him, two empty chairs between them, the ranger talking softly to Boo as he awaited his turn, while across the table, Fritha and Anomen were sat, the squire playing distractedly with the Helmite symbol that hung at his neck, Fritha slumped forward slightly in her chair with a bored look. Her chin was propped upon her hand, a fan of cards lolling in the other, the girl making no attempt to hide them from the man next to her, as though she knew he would not even consider stealing a look.

Cernd drew his attention back to the woman sat on the other side of him. Jaheira was the only one he felt was playing the game with any care as to the outcome, the woman frowning as she decided her move. She finally played a pair of sevens, Cernd knocking sharply on the table to indicate a pass, the man taking three extra cards from the deck in the centre as a forfeit as the play went on to Minsc and the druid could once more let his attention drift elsewhere.

He had been pleased when Jaheira had informed him she had spoken with Fritha and he was welcome to travel with them, feelings that had remained even after this evening's mixed reactions to the announcement. Cernd sighed. He knew he was as much to blame as anyone. He had become too used to keeping all but his fellow druids at arm's length since his infection, aware that many people who did not have the benefit of their teachings may view his condition as aberrant or even monstrous. But, as Faldorn had proved, druids were just as susceptible to such prejudice as anyone and this group had seemed to accept him without question; he really should have made a better attempt to get acquainted with them since leaving the grove.

Ah, well, what was done was done and he would no doubt have time enough to get to know them over the following days. He knew of one of them well enough at least, the man glancing again to the woman next to him, the play once more back round to Jaheira. She rapped sharply on the table as he had, and took another three cards and Cernd threw two fours onto the pile without a thought.

This was the third day he had spent in Trademeet and so far all had been in Jaheira's company, though the first had been the more pleasant experience, the pair walking out into the forests and almost reaching the northern hills before they had turned back. She was a quiet woman; not in any timid way, but the druid clearly deemed small talk a waste of time and energy. The silences between them were not uncomfortable though, both enjoying the world about them in quiet reflection and when she had spoken she had done so without any reticence, answering all of his questions about her recent travels and companions. She had spoken of a husband too, though from the phrasing Cernd could tell he was no longer among the living, and he had pressed that subject no more.

Yesterday day though, after its dramatic start, had found the woman seemingly content to just wander Trademeet with the others, though he suspected she just did not want to leave the town with Fritha upset as she was. That had been the only thing Jaheira had seemed unwilling to talk about, the woman giving all the appearance of her previous openness when he asked about her young charge, but skilfully redirecting his questions whenever he had tried to delve deeper.

As for his two days spent within the confines of Trademeet; it had been bearable. That the townsfolk no longer watched him like they expected him to show his true colours at any moment was a welcome relief, but he had been living outside civilisation for a while now and he was still finding the differing rhythms of urban life jarring. He had better re-accustom himself to it quickly though, for although they would most likely be leaving the town soon now Fritha was back among them, the group's planned destination was a city ten times the size of Trademeet.

Athkatla. It had not been so long ago when he had called the place home and yet it felt like another life to him now. Cernd felt an almost animal panic quiver low in his stomach but quelled it instantly. It _was_ another life and one he had given up with out any shame or regret at the time; there was nothing to be feared in a return.

'Three's Bane,' announced a voice at his side and Cernd glanced up in time to see the group sigh, Jaheira proudly laying a pair of three's before them, everyone muttering crossly as they took it in turns to take three extra cards. Cernd glanced back to the bar as play resumed, easily finding the pale gold head he had been seeking, Aerie and Haer'Dalis still at the bar though it was not surprising they had yet to be served, the pair far more focused on arguing with each other than catching the attention of the landlord.

Cernd frowned slightly, the elf's face twisting with distress as the bard made some, no doubt, cutting remark. He had sensed an unnaturalness in Haer'Dalis from the beginning, Jaheira admitting he was a tiefling when he had asked, and though that was not the reason for it, Cernd felt the pair were ill-suited as a couple; one so bright and natural, while the other seemed to revel in the darker aspects of the world.

He smiled as he recalled the brief time he had spent with the elf so far, their talks in the swamp and then again during their evenings together in the tavern. Aerie was pretty and very naturally so, and it would have been easy to hold a regard for her on that alone. But it was as he had spoken to her that his regard had truly grown, the girl quite warm for all her appearance of shyness, with a keen eye for the natural wonders that could be found all around them and a pleasant curiosity for all she saw.

It would have been hard _not_ to feel a regard for one such as her and it was not his desire to suppress such emotions either, such feelings as natural as drawing breath, though at the same time Cernd knew caution would have to be exercised. She was with another at that time and he did not want to upset the balance of a group so soon after joining it. There was a season for all things and a deep belief in the natural order was in his very blood. All would work out as it should in time.

A polite cough started him from his thoughts. Jaheira had noticed him watching the girl and he turned slowly back to the game.

'Do they always argue so?'

'No, not really,' the woman answered after a pause and he could tell Jaheira disapproved of his interest though it seemed she respected him enough not to voice it, merely adding, 'They seemed quite sure in their affection for each other until now. But if you are looking for arguments, Fritha and Anomen are your pair; a day they don't find something to quarrel about is the day the sun fails to rise.'

Cernd recognised his attention was being redirected and glanced over at the pair sat opposite, the girl looking at her cards, the man looking at the girl and both frowning slightly. Cernd was about to make some comment as to them getting on well enough at the moment, when a shrill cry of 'Haer'Dalis' caught his attention and he glanced up with the others just in time to see the bard storm past the table, leaving the elf alone at the bar.

'Ah, if you would excuse me,' Cernd began to the table as he rose.

'_Three's bane_,' said Fritha, sending him a pointed look as she lay a trio of eights down before her, and his cheeks still felt hot as he arrived at the bar, Aerie sat on one of the tall stools there, her head resting desolately upon her hand.

'Aerie?'

'_What?_ Oh, I'm sorry Cernd, I thought- oh I don't know what I thought!' she sighed, frustrated, and he was struck again by how young she seemed, as though she hadn't been given the chance to grow up in her own time.

'Please do not be distressed, Aerie. I can fetch one of the others if you wish to talk to someone. Jaheira, perhaps?'

For a moment the girl's face wore an incredulous look and he wondered what he had said when she just shook her head.

'No, no, I am fine, just cross with myself.' She drew a deep breath and released it slowly. 'It will pass.'

Cernd said nothing, he did not trust himself to speak without bias and after a moment, she continued, turning away from him to face the bar. 'Haer'Dalis, he is… he is just _very_ different.'

'From you?'

'From everyone!' she corrected passionately, whirling back to him before she sighed, smiling wryly, 'And I always seem to expect him to behave just like everyone else… He is so different from anyone I have ever known; it was one of the reasons I first liked him. And now…'

'And now?' Cernd prompted, though Aerie seemed not to hear him, staring off into the middle distance.

'He was just trying to help,' she began cryptically, 'I don't know why I didn't see it...'

'What can I get for you, miss?' came a voice before them and they both turned to see the landlord stood before them expectantly.

'Oh, ah,' Aerie stammered before quickly recovering to rattle off her order, the girl turning to him as the landlord bustled off, 'Could _you _wait for it please, Cernd? I should…'

Cernd nodded and she smiled, and he watched as she returned to their table to stand behind Fritha's chair, the girl straightening politely in her seat as Aerie greeted her and the game continued on, Fritha's attention split as the pair talked genially.

xxx

Anomen downed the remaining ale in his cup, the last mouthful slightly too warm to be pleasant and he suppressed a grimace as he swallowed, setting the tankard back on the table before him with a sharp snap. The women had retired over an hour ago, Fritha leaving not long after Haer'Dalis had stormed out, Jaheira and Aerie going soon afterwards and what little life to the table there had been seemed to go with them, Minsc and Cernd staying only long enough to finish their drinks before they too had retired, leaving Anomen alone.

Not that he particularly minded. He had had much on his mind since he had been given the date of his judgement and he welcomed the solitude in which he could mull things over without the worries of appearing unsociable or brooding. His test was coming and though before he had believed he could not have borne it if he had been forced to wait, now he was not so sure; those extra few months he had previously considered an agonising term, now looking like something of a reprieve.

Anomen thought back to the last time he had stood in the Great Hall, the dark eyes of his mentor looking back at him, grave and unreadable as he had explained his decision to allow Reynald and his brothers to go free. Sir Ryan Trawl's attitude had not been a heartening one, and yet Anomen still felt now as he had then: that he had taken the only possible course for a truly just outcome. Anomen shook his head. Everything he had once been so sure of had been turned on its head in the space of only a few months. Was he, too, like Reynald and the others? Losing his way without even realising it. Perhaps that was why he had sympathised with them…

Anomen shook his head again as though trying to scatter these doubts. He had to be more sure of himself, have more faith in his own heart, just as Fritha had said…

And for a moment he was back there, sat next to her on the grass, the girl laid beside him, so serene and contented. Perhaps that was what she had been driving at on that morning in the grove. There was a strong possibility the Order would not accept him: a deep disappointment, undoubtedly, after all his hard work, but what would truly change in his life or indeed the world at large? He would still travel and fight for righteousness as he had been; he would still be the same person, with the same values. He would still have a place in the world, and, as Fritha had rightly said, there would still be trees and sunshine and the other small pleasures life could afford. In the end, failing his test would only ruin as much as he allowed it. Of course, it was hard to distance yourself from the judgement of men whose approval you had been seeking since you were a boy, but…

Fritha thought he was worthy. And the thought awakened a tiny grain of hope within him, not enough to banish the overwhelming sense of self-doubt Anomen felt, but it was there all the same.

Poor girl. Her melancholy that evening had been hard to bear. He had been so ready to return the words of solace she had offered him when he had been grieving for his sister. But as soon as he had spoken to her, he had forgotten all he had meant to say and before he knew it, they were playing cards and there was no more opportunity for talk.

Anomen wondered what she was doing now, just sat in her room alone, as she had been all day? The thought was unbearable.

'Will you be wanting another drink, m'lord?' came a voice at his elbow, the maid from before arriving to clear away his empty cup.

'Ah, no, thank you, miss.'

He would just knock and ensure she was well, Anomen decided as he rose, perhaps invite her to walk out if she seemed composed enough, for he had always felt a lot better when occupied in the first few days after Moira's passing.

Anomen was on the fourth floor and outside her door before he had realised it, a hand held poised above the wood when the soft murmur of female voices halted him. He let his hand drop back down to his side feeling instantly foolish; of course, the other women would not have left her on her own to brood! Anomen sighed, turning to continue on to his own room when something inside halted him. He should knock anyway; let Fritha know he was there for her, even if it was predictably redundant.

He felt his reluctance surge instantly, the man stood before the door wrestling with himself while the sound of her voice alone rang out in the stillness beyond it, the others no doubt listening with anticipation…

'_He still felt as though he was fighting for every breath as she stared down at him again, when something clicked._ "_Feelings?" he croaked, his heart suddenly back where it should be and twice as fast._

"_Yes, my feelings for you…" she confirmed looking slightly puzzled, before realisation seemed to slowly dawn, "did I not mention that part first?"_

_And before he could reply, she dropped to her knees in front of him, as a cleric before an altar, and in a voice both soft and grave-'_

'Reduced to listening at keyholes now, are we knightling?' came a voice behind him and Anomen jumped, whirling round to face the smirking figure of the tiefling. He narrowed his eyes as the bard brushed past him to rap smartly on the door, Anomen barely suppressing a laugh as he heard a chorused groan from the other room and a familiar elf cry, 'Whoever it is, get rid of them!'

A moment later and Jaheira appeared at the door, her face unusually pink, the druid rolling her eyes at the sight of them both crowded in the doorway.

'It is for you Aerie; and you Fritha.'

They both appeared a second later, just as flushed, Aerie slightly wary while Fritha looked mildly interested. The bard led his lady further along the corridor for a little privacy, but Fritha had no such concern and stood in the doorway, the watchful eyes of the druid behind her.

'A problem, Anomen?'

'I, ah, no, not as such, but Cernd and Minsc have retired for the evening and Haer'Dalis is…' he paused for the word, murmuring and a soft giggle floating along the hall to fill the silence. The women before him shared a look. Anomen coughed self-consciously and continued on. 'Well, I was wondering if you wished to walk out. It is a fine evening.'

'Well,' Fritha began, glancing back into the room to Jaheira who silently raised an eyebrow, 'I'm afraid we're reading at the moment.'

'Don't start again without me!' came a plaintive cry from along the corridor and the two women smiled to each, Fritha turning back to him with a shrug.

'Looks as though we're free. Come on Jaheira, I'm not leaving you here to read ahead.'

The woman smiled wryly and obliged her, leaving for her own room as Fritha swung a cloak about her shoulders and stooped to pull on her boots. Anomen frowned slightly; he had not expected Jaheira to wish to come as well.

Outside the air was sharp, the cloudless sky holding no heat from the day, and stars glittered above them as he and Fritha waited for the woman. Fritha was well wrapped up against the cold in coat and cloak and gloves, her cheeks already glowing as she watched the way her breath hung frozen in the air. Sat alone in the tavern, his worries for the future made it almost hard for him to breathe, but just to be stood next to her and it was as though they held no more substance than her misty breath. She was so real, so alive; her mere presence seemed to reassure him. He couldn't quite put the feeling she gave him into words, though for reasons he couldn't fathom he suddenly felt compelled to try.

'Fritha?'

She glanced to him and his throat seemed to close, a considerable effort going in to forcing himself to continue.

'Fritha, I-'

'Ah, you're out here,' announced Jaheira abruptly behind them, 'Well, let us be off then, it is cold just stood.'

They set out, he and Jaheira walking side-by-side in silence while Fritha amused herself by starting on the wall outside Vyatri's place and trying to follow their route without touching the ground. Why she insisted on behaving so childishly Anomen would never understand, though he found himself keeping an eye on their path and its suitability for her all the same. But however round-about their route, they eventually turned into the main square and Fritha abandoned her game with good grace, dropping lightly from some railings to join the pair. Anomen sighed to himself. He had hoped to speak to her, but it was growing colder and they should be returning to the inn.

'Well, our walk is done,' began Jaheira, confirming his predictions, though her next words were quite unexpected as she continued. 'Wait for me a moment while I go into the forest's edge to pray; it is a fine night.'

'Be careful,' Fritha called after her brightly, Anomen still almost unable to believe it as he watched the druid fade into the darkness. 'Come on, Anomen, we can wait over here.'

Fritha moved to the nearest wall, sitting to pat the space next to her and he complied, watching as she took off her gloves, putting one set of fingers into her mouth to breathe on them. He raised an eyebrow and she smiled.

'Poor circulation,' she explained, using the moment of reply to change hands, and he smiled slightly as well, gesturing for her to give him a hand.

'Goodness, you'll give me chilblains!' she laughed, her hand icy in his as he wrapped both of them about it, rubbing briskly.

'Helm's Beard, you _are_ cold. Where is your scarf? I would not have thought you would be without it on a night like this.'

Her smile faded, Fritha's face taking on a carefully neutral expression.

'I lost it in the swamp.'

They both new she was lying. He recalled noting how well she had looked in it the previous morning.

'Truly?' Anomen confirmed nonchalantly, indicating for her to change hands, 'I thought I saw you wearing it yesterday.'

Fritha looked up at him, her expression unreadable and, for a moment, he thought she would just dismiss it, when-

'I gave it to Nalia… I'm sorry, Anomen, I should not let this make a liar of me.' She sighed deeply, shaking her head. 'Ah, she is gone and I'm at such a loss with it. I can't embroider for remembering all the stitches she taught me. Half the books we bought now lie half-read; I can't finish them knowing I won't be able to discuss them with her… though I cannot dwell on it like this. And besides, she is not gone forever. Perhaps once I have Imoen back I can go and visit her. She could even have her lands back by then; she'd be so happy…'

Fritha trailed off, smiling absently as she pulled back her hands and replaced her gloves. 'It is so strange. She has hardly been gone a day and I already I feel it so keenly. I try to imagine what she is doing now… reading to the children or embroidering perhaps. I see her at a window, looking southwards into the darkness as she sews, a single candle burning brightly next to her. It reminds me of a poem I once read. _I close my eyes and imagine the dark hills I would have to cross to reach you._'

The girl was gazing off in the direction the druid had disappeared, though her eyes were looking at something far beyond the darkened streets and Anomen swallowed feeling slightly uncomfortable.

'Have _you_ ever thought to write any poetry, my lady?' he enquired finally, glad for anything to break the silence, 'An account or two of your travels, perhaps?'

Fritha glanced to him, looking mildly surprised he had asked.

'Me? Oh, not recently, though I must admit to writing a few when I was younger. Gorion and Imoen seemed to like them well enough.'

'Truly? I would be intrigued to hear them.'

'Oh, I can barely remember more than the titles now, though I'll have the notes kicking about somewhere, I suppose. Let me see,' she considered aloud, 'there was "Ode to the Last Biscuit", "A Clamshell's worth of Oceanus" and that epic saga of friendship and betrayal, "Imoen, Where's my Blue Hat? I Know You had it Last!"

Anomen smiled slightly. 'I suspect my lady is not serious.'

'_Fritha_ is completely serious, though she admits her poems may not have been.'

They both laughed at that, the sound of it ringing in the cold air before it faded away to a silence, the night still save for the chatter of the fountain and the sound of distant singing for compline in the church to Waukeen.

'So,' began Fritha eventually, turning to him, her young face grave in the half-light, 'you have been summoned back to the city and your future within the Order is to be decided.'

'That is so, my lady.'

'What do you think they will say?'

He shrugged, dropping his gaze to his lap, his hands feeling empty now hers had gone.

'I do not know. But I have done all I could have done; the decision is theirs now.'

'So you are no longer worried then?'

'No…' he answered slowly, but she levelled an even look at him and he smiled sheepishly, 'Well, yes, but not as I was. It will be a crossroads in my life whatever the decision, but I can see each path could lead somewhere worthwhile. I would be disappointed not to join the Order, but it would not mean the end of my life.'

'Well, I think that's a very sensible way of looking at things,' she said with a nod, glancing up at some noise and he looked up as well to see Jaheira's shape slowly emerging from the darkness.

'All done?' called Fritha and the woman smiled.

'Yes, and cold to my bones. Come, we should return to the inn.'

xxx

Aerie led the way into her room; the sounds of the others making their plans in the hallway outside suddenly muffled as she shut the door, the silence of the room somehow tense as Haer'Dalis waited expectantly behind her. She had been so happy to see him arrive with Anomen before, and yet frightened as well, worried that he would still be angry, that perhaps she had broken something that could not be fixed. But he had been as mild as ever he was, instantly putting her fears to rest as he jokingly told her it was too cold for him to spend any more time outside sulking and asking if he could speak with her alone and that had brought them there.

'I am sorry, my dove, I-' he began as soon as she turned to face him, though Aerie swiftly cut him off.

'No, please don't say anything, I am sorry; I was being argumentative and silly. I- I don't know what was wrong with me. I've been unhappy about Nalia leaving and it has made me, oh- I don't know,' she sighed, shaking her head as though to make sense of the jumble of thoughts within. 'I'm sorry, Haer'Dalis. I did not want to quarrel with you this evening, I just feel so frustrated sometimes, so worried about the future and what it holds for us all, then you say things about everything being destined to end; it just made me angry, I suppose.'

Haer'Dalis sent her a sad smile, putting an arm about her to plant a kiss on her forehead.

'Oh, my dove, do not fret, I will never leave your side if I can help it.'

Aerie nodded, suppressing another sigh.

'Sometimes, I just get so exasperated, with myself as well as you. I didn't understand what you were doing today, how you were trying to help; I just thought you were ignoring me.'

Haer'Dalis almost laughed.

'And why in the planes would you think that, Sweet Aerie?'

'Well, you rather _were_, Haer'Dalis,' she reproached, feeling her assumption had not been entirely unreasonable, 'and- well I suppose since I told you I no longer have dreams of becoming an actress, I've been thinking about how little we actually have in common. I sometimes feel that we are not so well suited; we are so different, the way we look at the world, and I worry that over time it will come between us.'

'Perhaps…' he conceded after a pause, 'if we let it.'

Aerie sighed, feeling as though she was swimming against the tide.

'I suppose. But other couples, they fight and make up and struggle and grow closer, and we just seem to always stay the same.' She wanted him to agree, to finally acknowledge what she had felt for a while now. That, however close they seemed to grow, there was always something between them, constant and unwavering, that seemed to stop any deeper connection from being formed, as though the man could only let her so near to him… But Haer'Dalis just sent her a measured look.

'Perhaps it only seems that way when you are looking at it from inside.' He smiled faintly, a teasing lilt coming to his voice. 'You seem to spend a lot of time searching for problems between us lately, my dove. If I did not know otherwise, I would say you were getting bored of this sparrow.'

Aerie felt her heart jolt, an unbearable guilt welling in her stomach as she saw the unspoken question behind the half-smile. Before she knew it her arms were thrown about his neck, pressing him to her.

'No, no, that is not so. Oh my bard, my love, do not think that, never think that. I love you, I do, with all my heart.'

'Good, I am glad,' he smiled as she released him, though it did not quite lift the guarded look to his eyes. 'And I would have you know that your feelings are returned and most ardently too. Well, it is late and Jaheira will no doubt be marching us back west in earnest tomorrow since we are already a day delayed. I should retire.'

Aerie felt awful, the weight of it pressing on her until she was almost sick with it. She just wanted to be close to him, but whatever she did, it still felt as though something was missing. She swallowed dryly. There was only one final step that could be taken now. She sank slowly onto the bed behind her.

'You- you don't have to go.'

The room suddenly seemed darker than before, the lamps throwing deep shadows across the walls. Haer'Dalis stared down at her, his eyes almost black in the half-light, the silence between them broken by shouts and laughter of people somewhere in the street below.

'Aerie…'

'I mean, you could stay…' She reached a hand up to take his sleeve, all her focus on the neat linen cuff as she smoothed a thumb over the embroidery there. 'I want you to stay.'


	51. Sing a merry madrigal

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. Nor do I own _The Solitary Reaper_ by W. Wordsworth  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Sing a merry madrigal**

Aerie awoke before the dawn, though she did not stir; instead just lay there next to him, her misgivings slowly rising with the sun. This was not the first time she had lain with a man. Nor was it the first time she had perhaps regretted it either, the boy Hollin back in the circus taking one such night as a confirmation of feelings that she was still unsure of, and her ensuing hesitance had hurt him enough to end their relationship.

She lay there for what seemed like hours, just watching him as he slept. The curtains had not been drawn the night before and he looked striking bathed in the grey dawn light, and Aerie considered he was probably the most physically beautiful man she had ever known. His skin had an almost lucent quality, his hair loose and looking an even richer blue against the white of the pillow. The light was bringing the scars on his face into sharp relief and she let her eyes travel them; pairs scoring chin and forehead and along each cheekbone. She did not usually notice them now, so used to seeing his face as a whole as she was. They seemed too regular to have just been accidental, and she suddenly wondered how he had got them.

Would he even tell her if she asked?

And in that moment, strange though it seemed considering what had passed between them, she had never felt more alone. Quietly she rose, slipping from the bed to pull on her shift before moving silently to the window. The view was to the south, the town and forests beyond still grey with an early mist and she watched them warm with the dawn, thinking about all the other things she did not know about him. She had thought last night would have made things better, close that final rift between them, but it had done nothing. She felt as apart from him now, as she ever had.

Some of the performers back in the circus would do it. The circus would hardly be around longer than a couple of days in the small towns before moving on again, and it was easy enough to find a like-minded stranger for the night, though Aerie never had. To share so much with someone when you barely knew more than their name; it had always seemed like such a hollow thing…

'Aerie?'

She jumped as firm hands stroked lightly along her bare arms. She had not heard him get up and she was suddenly very glad of her hair, coursing down her back and hiding the scars she knew still twisted her shoulders. She turned to him, Haer'Dalis stood before her smiling warmly, hair now tied back and half-dressed in breeches and shirt, a narrow sliver of pale chest still visible between the linen panes.

'Ah, my love, you look so beautiful in the morn light.'

He leaned in to kiss her and she could not help but take a step back, the man before her straightening with a frown, though he seemed more concerned than angry.

'What is it? What is wrong?' A look that seemed more resignation than query veiled his eyes, 'Do you now regret what has passed between us?'

Aerie swallowed, turning her gaze inward; well, did she?

'No,' she answered after a pause and was glad to finally feel the truth of it, steeling herself as she continued, 'I- I was just thinking about your scars…'

'My scars?' he repeated, a hand moving unconsciously to his cheek, clearly bewildered.

'Yes, where they came from, when you got them, why they are there. You said once that only in the present can we truly love, but- but it is not enough. I would have all of you, Haer'Dalis, all that you were as well as all that we will have.'

'Ah, and my scars represent that do they not, my dove?' he confirmed quietly, 'A scene from my past for you to study in attempts to make sense of the whole work. Very well. My scars were given to me by my mother.'

'Your mother?' Aerie repeated, no less than astounded, Haer'Dalis sending her a wry smile.

'Yes, everyone must have one, why should this sparrow be any different? Here, I've a sketch of her some- ah, there,' he announced blithely, moving to snatch up the folio from his bag and flicking through the pages to finally show her a picture of a thin elven woman, dark-eyed and pale, draped in a flowing red gown with an elaborate chaos of tattoos twisting up her left arm.

'She was an interesting woman to look at if nothing else.' Haer'Dalis continued casually, running a critical eye over the picture himself. 'My mother was an artist by trade and a member of the Society of Sensation, a faction that believes life must be experienced to be understood. She would spend her days in the studio painting and sculpting, mind dulled or sharpened to differing degrees by the myriad of drugs she would take to inspire her work. And in the evenings, her house was open to any who wished to come and _enrich the collective experience_. She was forever holding parties where she and likeminded friends could talk about art and philosophy while they drank and took other substances to alter their perceptions of reality and open themselves to new experiences. _I_ was initially planned to be one of her greatest pieces: a living masterwork of the macabre, a grotesque mix of the mundane and the infernal.'

Haer'Dalis smiled slightly. 'Poor woman. She mated with a demon hoping for a monstrosity that would stand apart in even Sigil's twisted streets, and all she got was a child with blue hair. She was disappointed to say the least, but no more than any other artist would be. She often likened it to opening the kiln to find the impassioned sculpture she had put so much hope and energy into shattered by the firing.'

'That- that's awful, I…' Aerie gasped, unable to put the pity she felt into words. But the man merely shrugged mildly.

'As for my scars, she called me to her once when I was young, though even at that early age I could see the clouded stupor of black lotus in her eyes. She was holding the pottery knife she used in her clay work. She told me not to cry, that she was going to make an artwork of me.'

Aerie watched as his eyes took on a distant look, as though he was far away. She laid a hand gently upon his arm, her voice quiet.

'Haer'Dalis, I am so sorry.'

The bard shook his head, bringing himself from this private reverie with a frown.

'Sorry? Why be sorry? It has happened and now it is in the past. All things are born to decay and end, my dove; innocence fades, destroyed by experience of the world. Come,' he continued with a smile, lightly brushing off her hand and moving back to the bed to gather up his tunic, 'the others birds are up and singing, we should be as well.'

Aerie stood by the window watching as he finished dressing. She had often thought she had suffered in her lot, but at least she had been brought up in a loving environment, old enough to have the strength to deal with her tortures when the time came for her to face the trials the Fates had sent her. She tried to imagine growing up in that house full of strangers to a mother who only saw you as a disappointment at best. Perhaps if she had, she too would try to see such loss as something to celebrate…

xxx

Haer'Dalis shifted under his pack, legs aching dully, eyes staring unfocused at the back of Cernd's head, the druid just ahead of him as the group marched west. There had been a pause in their pace a few moments back to ford a small river swollen by the rains, but now they were trudging along once more as they made their return to the city.

The day had seemed to go quickly, though he did not know whether it was just the fact the days were shorter now or because he had been dwelling on the previous night. He had believed it when Aerie had told him she loved him, but he wondered now whether that wasn't more due to wishful thinking on his part. That morning she had been so distant, reluctant to even let him kiss her. Was it just another bout of her usual shyness after a deepening of their intimacy or a sign of something more? Haer'Dalis bit back an angry sigh. Love was such a simple thing, why did relationships have to be so _complicated_? He never should have agreed to stay that night, but he had so longed to be close to her.

And then Aerie had turned inquisitor, pressing him in to telling her of things he felt were best left forgotten and he could still recall her pitying look as he had related the tale she had so begged for. Haer'Dalis shook his head. She had tried to talk to him again when they first quit the town, still all soft voice and sympathy, but he was in no mood for it and she had grown tired of his coolness in the end. He glanced ahead to where she was now walking next to Cernd, though she was not talking to him or anyone else, the girl seemingly sad in herself since his rejection. She would never understand; he had known that before he had even begun his account.

Haer'Dalis did not hate his mother. She had just been a woman after all, pursuing life as she had wished to live it; something he could respect, now. No, he did not hate his mother, but he _did_ hate thinking about her, about all the things she had opened his mind to. His past had made him the person he was now and he was happy enough in himself not to regret it; growing up around creative intelligent people with a mother who understood the importance of such things, he had been more fortunate than most in Sigil. But at the same time, it had been hard growing up as he had: the futile project of a woman who had better works to inspire her, but who still felt obligated to finish that one now she had started it.

Haer'Dalis shook his head, angry he could not seem to stop dwelling on it. The past was past, done and gone, and he would not change it even if he could. He pulled his mind away forcibly, letting it drift to take in the sensations about him; the sharp air on his face, the rhythmic thud of seven pairs of feet, the faint melodic trilling of a voice in song…

Haer'Dalis glanced behind him to where Fritha was bringing up the back of the group alone, the girl absently singing a Calimshite song to herself, her sword across her shoulders, arms draped carelessly over it. Even Haer'Dalis was enough of a traveller to know it was dangerous to walk over uneven ground so and it seemed he was not alone in this thought, Jaheira pausing at their head, turning back to check on the progress of those following, the woman shouting back to her.

'Really, Fritha, must you lumber after us so? You're carrying that sword like a yoke.'

'Aye and it feels like one too, some days,' the girl called back, making no attempt to hide the bitterness to her voice, 'Besides, it doesn't hang properly from my belt; it's too long, it keeps tangling about my legs.'

'Well, then you should have bought a new one from Trademeet,' said Jaheira matter-of-factly as she turned to resume her path and Haer'Dalis felt himself smile. _Soon…_

'Ignore her, my raven,' he ordered genially as the girl caught up to him, still struggling the fasten the scabbard back at her belt, 'and go back to that pretty little tune you were humming.'

Fritha glanced up from her work looking slightly embarrassed.

'You could hear me? It was the last one the djinn played before they left.' She laughed ruefully. '_The music in my heart I bore, long after it was heard no more_.'

Haer'Dalis sent her a kind smile.

'And must it die now our friends are back in Calimshan? No, no, my raven, music lives eternal in the hearts of those that appreciate it. Why there are pieces I have not heard for years now –do you know of the Arborean Rhapsody? The genius of that violin arrangement; I swear, the dead themselves would rise to hear it.'

He glanced to Fritha, the girl suddenly beaming as she no doubt heard it playing behind her eyes.

'Oh, and that bit with the tambourine!'

'Yes, my raven! Have you seen it danced? I saw a lovely aasimar girl perform it once; she swung back her head and made her hair tremble beautifully at that part, as though every lock was rattling. And the_Met_ _Jaawai_ is another fine one to see danced.'

Fritha sighed, a wistful smile pulling at her mouth.

'Oh, I love the start to that, especially when the pipes come in; they make me think of birds flying.'

'A song for birds' flight?'

Haer'Dalis glanced ahead to where Cernd looking back at them, smiling mildly, Aerie at his side and looking apprehensive.

'Is it not enough joy just to watch them? How could one capture such soaring delight?'

The druid had clearly meant his comment as a kindly one, perhaps hoping to join their discussion upon it, but Haer'Dalis was not inclined to be welcoming at the moment, especially not where the _druid_ was concerned.

'I am sure you would not speak so if you heard it, my good druid,' Haer'Dalis countered, his genial laugh holding a brittle quality he could not quite suppress, 'I recall you saying you have seen the_Jaawai_ performed, my dove; how did you find it?'

Aerie flushed, glancing from him to the druid.

'Oh, well, I can't really remember.'

Haer'Dalis smiled.

'Well, perhaps a quick rendition then, to recall it to you. My raven?'

Fritha shook her head, her previous enthusiasm clearly ebbed away by their subtle hostilities and the bard felt a twinge of guilt.

'Perhaps later, Haer'Dalis.'

'Here,' announced Jaheira at their head as they stepped into a small clearing, 'this place will serve. Not too far from the stream and the trees are growing close enough that they should shelter us from the worst of the weather. Now, we will need some water-'

'I'll go,' Fritha offered, not waiting for a reply as she dropped her cloak and bag at the foot of the nearest tree and stooped to untie the old iron pot from the back of Jaheira's pack before sloping off out of the clearing.

xxx

Fritha moved through the trees, the handle of the water-heavy pot cutting into her hand, though she kept her pace deliberately slow, unwilling to hurry only to slop icy water down her leg. That day had been hard, the hours of walking giving her too much time to brood, though it seemed that was something she was not alone in, more than half the group as silent and sullen as she had been. Anomen was more than likely worrying about the judgement that awaited him back in the city, but as for Aerie and Haer'Dalis, she was less sure. Perhaps another quarrel? In her present mood, Fritha was finding it very hard to care.

She weaved her way slowly past the last few trees to find the camp deserted, tender flames licking about the small bundle of sticks in the newly dug firepit and she wondered if the others hadn't gone in search of more wood. Fritha sighed, setting the pot down next to the fire and trudging back over to her belongings with half a thought of doing some reading, though it died the instant she moved her cloak, the familiar azure blue enamel of a scabbard she knew as well as her own hand lain innocently underneath. She crouched down, almost expecting it to disappear as she reached out to take it up, the hilt snug in her grip as she drew the blade; it was no trick, this was it, her old sword…

'Is something wrong, my lady? You look flushed.'

Fritha started, standing to whirl about and feeling strangely nervous as she offered the blade up to the man behind her.

'Anomen, did you buy this for me?'

Anomen stared down at the sword in her hands, colour creeping into his cheeks as he recognised it and he abruptly turned his face away.

'No, I did not… _And_-' he continued, turning sharply back to her, suddenly livid, 'I will warrant the one who did acquire it for you, did not _buy_ it either.'

'What? Now don't you think you're jumping to conclusions a bit?'

'Anyone who had bought it would have presented you with it straight away, before we left Trademeet. Of course, this could not be done if the sword was not supposed to be in our possession.'

Fritha bristled at the truth of it.

'Well, if that's your reasoning then why not ask the question you want to anyway: who among us would _steal_ it? And don't bother answering, I know of whom you speak!'

Anomen shook his head, his voice calmer as he continued.

'He cannot be allowed to indulge in such casual larceny, my lady.'

'_If_ it was stolen.'

'Fritha, really!' snapped Anomen, his temper clearly getting the better of him once more in the face of her stubbornness, 'You cannot truly believe otherwise?'

'Well, I'm certainly not going to accuse him of it without even asking him!'

And with that Fritha turned on her heel and stormed off.

She, of course, had no idea of where the bard had gone though. She walked about the nearby forests for a while, letting herself calm down and she was about to start back to the camp when she heard it: the faint melodic strains of a harp.

Haer'Dalis closed his eyes, leaning back against the broad rough trunk and letting the music drift about him as he sat at the foot of the huge oak he'd found and absently played his lyre to himself. It was not a difficult tune and his fingers knew the notes without any thought from him, the familiarity of it soothing, helping to diffuse the frustration of the day.

'Haer'Dalis…'

Haer'Dalis glanced up at the sound, seeing a familiar head of copper curls peering about the trunk behind him and he smiled, leaving the instrument on the ground as he rose to beckon her closer.

'Ah, you found it then,' he grinned, gesturing to the sword in her hand, his smile fading in the face of her melancholy look. 'What is wrong, my raven, it is the correct one, is it not?'

'Yes… and please don't think I am ungrateful for saying this, but how did you come by it?'

Haer'Dalis smiled again.

'I am glad you asked me, my raven, for it was quite a clever ruse of mine, even if I do say so myself. I merely bought another sword, some beaten up old thing, worthless as a Carcerian's promise, and I put an illusion upon it to look as your own infinitely finer blade and returned to the stall to slyly exchange them. I imagine the illusion will have worn off by now. Ha, that I could have seen that merchant's face when he realises.'

'Oh, Haer'Dalis,' Fritha sighed wearily, scrubbing a hand across her face, the bard quite at a loss as to the source of her melancholy and stepping closer to let a hand hover over her back.

'Fritha, what troubles you so? You surely don't feel sorry for that cross-trading berk? Not after what he did.'

She sighed again, shaking her head distractedly.

'No, I don't feel particularly sorry for him. And I _am _happy to get it back, truly. But Anomen just caught me with it and he guessed straight away you had acquired it by less than honest methods,' she sent him a rueful smile, 'he isn't very happy.'

Haer'Dalis felt a familiar loathing stirring in his heart, darkness surging from it with every beat.

'That arrogant _screed_! Just wait until I speak with him!'

'Oh, please don't!' Fritha cried, her sudden distress alarming to see, 'I don't think I could stand another argument right now…' She shook her head, dipping her face and Haer'Dalis had the horrible feeling she was trying to not to cry.

'There now, my raven,' he soothed after a moment, his anger ebbing as he gently patted her shoulder, the girl's voice quiet and wavering as she tried to explain herself.

'It's just ever since Nalia's been gone… Oh, it's like a hole has opened in my heart. Missing her, it's like missing a part of myself. I haven't felt this bad since Imoen was first taken…' She trailed off and he heard her draw a deep breath and release it slowly, the girl dabbing at her eyes with the corner of her sleeve before she seemed to feel she could face him again, 'I'm sorry, Haer'Dalis, I shouldn't be burdening you with this; I know you have your own troubles. You would have to be blind not to see you and Aerie are not on the best of terms at the moment.'

Haer'Dalis tutted at her, giving her shoulder a friendly slap.

'Do not be foolish, it is a burden I bear gladly if it lightens your heart any. As for the dove, she and I are…' He trailed off, unable to explain what he himself did not understand. Haer'Dalis sighed, feeling anew the directionless melancholy that had been hanging over him all day. 'Ah, listen to us both, like two petitioners to the Grey Wastes. No, no more of this. Come, my raven!' he ordered, taking her free hand and spinning her around, making to lead her in a quick jig, 'You and I were not made to brood.'

'Haer'Dalis!' she cried, though he was glad to hear a hint of laughter to her voice as well, 'Haer'Dalis, stop it; you're making me dizzy!'

He spun her again and she nearly tripped, and he stopped to let her catch her breath, the girl dipping her head to rest her forehead against his shoulder, their hands still entwined though their dance had ended.

Haer'Dalis closed his eyes. He felt suddenly light-headed as well. She seemed very close, the damp decaying forest about them suddenly perfumed with the faint scent of her hair, and he could not help but think back to how it had been Aerie who had once seemed the warm one, and it had been Fritha he had labelled the cold fish.

A rustle of bracken behind them and Fritha straightened instantly, the pair whirling to see Anomen stood at the foot of the huge oak staring at them. Silence held the three, Fritha looking from him to the squire, her cheeks scarlet before-

'What's that? Oh, coming, Jaheira!'

She was gone in an instant, leaving the two men just glaring at each other. Haer'Dalis broke first, the man crouching to pack away his lyre as though nothing had happened and Anomen swallowed, each word clipped as he tried to keep his temper.

'So, you have reunited Fritha with her sword.'

The tiefling straightened and turned to face him with such a ferocity that Anomen had to check himself from taking a step back.

'Yes, I have, without shame or regret! _And_, might I say here that if you have issue with anything I do in the future, I suggest you come and speak to _me _about it, rather than berating the only young women I know with enough patience to stand more than two words discourse with you! I took that sword to cheer her, but what good is it if you turn the prize into a penance.'

Anomen felt his jaw tighten. Truth be told, he was as angry that Haer'Dalis had been insightful enough to have even _thought_ of returning her sword to her, as he was that the bard had stolen the thing.

'Oh, yes, I can see well how you are trying to cheer Fritha. Though, for a man who is supposedly sworn to another, your noble endeavour is_familiarly_ borne to say the least.'

Haer'Dalis looked furious, but even that couldn't hide the flash of panic in his eyes; the man was rattled.

'One day,' the bard began after a pause, his voice slow and measured, 'when you are _fully grown_, you will understand that relationships are rarely easy and _never_ simple. And I would look to your own feelings for her, _knightling_, before you go and lay judgement upon _mine_ and Fritha's relations.'

'_My_ feelings for her?' Anomen repeated, his face suddenly impossibly hot, 'If you are insinuating what I think, then you are quite mistaken! She is nothing but a silly young woman, too interested in- in romance novels and dancing! And I feel nothing for her but a brotherly concern for her welfare –especially at your hands!'

But Haer'Dalis chose to ignore this last comment, confirming only, 'You truly feel as such? Well, that is for the best I should imagine. Fritha is too bright a soul to be ruined by your chivalric fumblings. She needs affection of a warmer source.'

'Like_you_?'

Haer'Dalis merely gave a genial laugh, his eyes narrow behind the gesture.

'Indeed, no. My heart lies elsewhere, as well you know. But it was something I was considering the other day: a good match for our matchless leader. A name you should approve of did come to mind, in fact. Your friend, the Squire Simon; she seemed quite taken with him when they met.'

Anomen fought down a surge of jealousy. Fritha had not mentioned Simon outside the day she had met him and since the girl had been renowned lately for chattering on about _romance_ to anyone who would stand still long enough, Anomen doubted she held any affection for his friend, the tiefling was merely trying to stir up trouble.

'Indeed, you think so?' he confirmed though gritted teeth, 'I will have to make an effort to get them better acquainted.'

'Of course, my hound; I will be sure to remind you.'

The bard smiled, broad and slow, and Anomen did not doubt it.

xxx

Jaheira sat giving the stew before her the occasional stir and the tea next to her the occasional sip as she watched the camp about her. She had returned some time ago from collecting more wood to find Minsc, Aerie and Cernd and her old iron pot full of water, Fritha clearly making it back from the river though where she had disappeared to after that the druid could not have guessed. It had hardly concerned her though and she had busied herself, setting the others to peeling vegetables while she had stoked up the fire and prepared the tea.

Fritha was sat quietly opposite her now, studying her odes at Minsc's suggestion, the ranger sat close by. Jaheira wondered if he too had noticed her agitation when she had finally arrived back, the girl pink and distracted, her hand clutching a very familiar sword though Jaheira had kept her comments about that to a minimum, her displeasure saved for the one who had actually stolen it.

Jaheira felt a stab of irritation and let her attention wander to the camp's other pair, Cernd trying to start a conversation with a very reluctant Aerie, the girl barely answering him as she embroidered listlessly. Jaheira watched him sigh and take a dispirited mouthful of tea, the druid finally giving up on trying to engage the elf, it seemed. He had been the same all day, trying to make idle chatter as they'd walked and not just with Aerie either, though it seemed no one had been in the mood for talk.

'So, Fritha, you are studying Rashemi?' began Cernd genially, clearly not willing to give up just yet and turning his attention to the girl. 'You plan to visit the Eastern Lands?'

Fritha shrugged.

'Certainly, if I get the chance, though that's not the reason I study it. Languages and the way people speak are a reflection of their culture. And if nothing else, learning other languages is useful.' She smiled absently, 'Eriyn told me he could ask for directions to the nearest brothel in fifteen different languages.'

Cernd choked on his tea.

'She's joking,' Aerie assured him with a slight smile.

'She's_not_,' countered Fritha, not sparing either of them a glance as she went back to her book, frowning as she continued the passage.

'_Dasch Svet_. The something man. _Minsc,_ _dasch? Namit lek?' _

'_Anomen arit na.' _

'What is this? You are speaking of me?' asked Anomen as he stepped into the clearing. Aerie looked up quickly as though expecting to see Haer'Dalis arrive behind him, but the man did not come and she turned rather dejectedly back to her sewing.

'I'm studying this ode but I've just come across a word I don't know,' Fritha continued, '_Anomen met'sv_?' she asked, the ranger nodding once and she returned her attention to Anomen, 'He's says it only pertains to you.' Fritha turned back to Minsc with a slight frown. 'Squire_ mi? _

The ranger laughed and shook his head.

'_Nyt.'_

She paused again, clearly thinking it over when-

'Ah,strong_mi_!'she exclaimed eagerly, barely noticing the squire as he flushed scarlet, but Minsc merely shook his head looking slightly affronted.

'_Minsc mo arit na.' _

Fritha laughed, putting up her hands in a placating gesture.

'_Fyit, Minsc. Jaaa, dasch… dasch…,' _she glanced to Anomen again and suddenly smiled, 'Beard _mi_! It means the bearded man!'

Everyone laughed, Minsc the loudest of all as he gave her back a congratulatory slap.

'_Ket! Ket! Hasit ki'svae!' _

'What's this?' came a voice above them, Jaheira turning with the others to see the tiefling finally return to camp. 'Are we speaking in tongues? I would welcome any opportunity to brush up on my Abyssal.'

'Haer'Dalis,' cried Aerie, the girl eagerly laying down her sewing as she greeted him.

'Yes, it is the sparrow himself,' Haer'Dalis confirmed though without his usual buoyancy as he took his place in the circle. Aerie frowned slightly, the change in his manner clearly worrying her.

'Where have you been? It's almost dark.'

He sent her a gentle look.

'There is no more to fear in the darkness than there is in the light, my dove. I know, for a fact,' he continued in a voice that carried, almost as though he was issuing a challenge as he turned to her with a grim smile, 'Jaheira's temper will not be lessened any in either illumination now she has found out about this sparrow's_contemptible larceny_.'

Jaheira felt her eyes narrow.

'I am glad _you_ find something worthy of jest in all this. Your actions may well have ruined our good standing with the peoples of that town.'

Haer'Dalis feigned a distressed look.

'Do you imagine they will pull down our statue?'

'Gods, we can only hope,' muttered Fritha, 'Anyway, no more of this. It is done now and there is nothing we can do. Besides, no one can prove for sure it was us and to return it now would only confirm we took the sword to start with.'

'I would not ask you to!' Jaheira snapped, turning her dark glare back on the bard, 'But such things should not happen in the first instance.'

Haer'Dalis held up his hands in a placating gesture, his voice edged with a bitterness she rarely heard from him.

'No, no, I have already been shown the error of my ways by the squire. It is a foolish man who tries to keep the Primes from their melancholy. Things meant to alleviate it seem only to bring it tenfold. Indeed, I should be pleased you've all taken the first steps towards accepting the true ways of the multiverse.'

Aerie frowned slightly.

'What do you mean, the true ways of the multiverse?'

Haer'Dalis smiled at her.

'That all things, friendships, lives, even worlds, are destined to end in destruction and tragedy.'

The elf drew in a sharp breath, as though his words had hurt her.

'How can you say that? If that were the case then why start anything? Though I will admit terrible things do happen, there is always hope, that things will be better, that one day all people will live together without such suffering.'

The tiefling laughed mildly, and Jaheira had the impression he was almost amused by her desperate optimism.

'Hope? Even hope is eroded, my dove. All things break down, over time and all things come to an end.'

'But-'

'Oh, let him be, Aerie,' cut in Fritha dully, the girl finally laying down her book with a sigh, giving up on getting any more work done, 'who is to say it isn't so? To live is to know you will eventually die; no one here can deny that.'

Across the camp, Cernd nodded his agreement.

'Yes, death is, indeed, part of the natural cycle, but it is a cycle that is continuous. Your death will enable the life of other creatures.'

'Aye, the sod who shived me for one,' laughed Fritha and the squire flushed.

'Fritha!'

Cernd ignored them both though, calmly turning back to the tiefling.

'Nature's cycle, and life with it, goes on; unchanging and eternal.'

Haer'Dalis merely shook his head.

'Believe what you will, druid. It is entropy, not life, which is the natural order of the multiverse.'

'So what should we do then, just all lay down and die right now?' snapped Aerie shrilly.

'On the contrary, my dove, one must live to assist the multiverse in attaining its goal. As a Doomguard, I live to embrace such destruction, to cheer its advance and hasten it where I can.'

Minsc frowned, though it looked more as though he was slowly trying to make sense of the tiefling's argument than that he was angered by it.

'The destruction of some things, evil things: yes, Boo can see this is to be cheered. But _everything_?'

'Aye, everything, my mad hound. Only when all things cease to exist can perfection finally be attained, all flaws blotted out in nothingness.'

'See, he's holding out for a happy ending,' quipped Fritha wryly. Jaheira sighed; the girl was hardly helping.

'So you are saying that- that wars and- and plagues are a _good_ thing?' cried Aerie. Two pink spots were rising on her cheeks, her small white hands balled into fists. Cernd looked concerned.

'Aerie?'

The girl barely spared him a glance

'But look at the grief such things leave in their wake! Such death and misery! No one should accept that!'

'She is right,' agreed Anomen firmly and, thankfully, calmly, 'Such horrors must be fought at all costs.'

Haer'Dalis merely shook his head again.

'Only through death and destruction is rebirth possible, my birds. 'Tis the natural way of things.'

'It's_not_ natural to cheer on it,' snapped Aerie, 'to hasten the process! You have to fight against that kind of evil!'

The tiefling sent her a mild look.

'And who says such a process is evil?'

Aerie seemed to swell where she was sat, mouthing silently though others were not so afflicted.

'I do,' snapped Anomen, looking far less calm now, 'As does any being with a shred of decency in their hearts!'

Jaheira sighed, giving the pot before her another stir. The stew looked to be about ready and this had all gone quite far enough.

'That's it, enough now, all of you.'

Anomen whirled to her. 'My lady, surely you are not defending him!'

Jaheira sent him a quelling look

'I am not saying I agree, I am not saying I do not. What I am saying is that our dinner is ready and I, for one, wish to eat it in _peace_.'

It was to a background of sullen muttering and dark looks that the meal was served, the evening that followed one of the quietest they had shared in along while.


	52. Remember me

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

_Author's note: Not a lot to say really, __but 'tis the season and all that, so thanks for reading and Merry Christmas. _

**Remember me**

It was late afternoon, another day of walking almost behind them, the sky above a brindled blue grey and hazy in a way that made it difficult to tell the clouds from sky. Fritha spent a while trying though, gazing up through the canopy as she walked at the back of the group with Haer'Dalis in silence. There had been a distinct atmosphere over the camp that morning, the previous night's argument still fresh in everyone's minds and more than a little of this coldness was being directed the bard's way. He himself seemed impervious to it, and though Fritha would have liked nothing better than to believe his mild smile and spend her time alone as she had the day before, she was feeling very much inclined towards Haer'Dalis at the moment and walked with him all the way, sharing talk and stories with a blitheness she certainly did not feel. He had brought her sword back to her after all, something which had led to much trouble for him, and she wanted him to know she appreciated it, even if some of the others were less than happy.

'So,' came a voice and Fritha drew her gaze from the sky to the man next to her, Haer'Dalis smiling slightly as he gestured to the five figures they followed, 'do you think they have forgiven us yet?'

'Do you even care? Such matters are inevitable, sparrow; all things, even friendships, must fall to entropy in the end.'

He raised an eyebrow, looking mildly amused.

'You believe in my dark philosophy?'

Fritha shrugged. 'Haven't seen much to disprove it so far.'

Haer'Dalis laughed, lightly clapping her shoulder.

'Ah, we'll make a Doomguard of you yet!'

Fritha shook her head.

'No, I don't think I could embrace destruction; Aerie is right, it brings too much misery. _And_,' she continued, sending him a sidelong glance, 'for one supposedly sworn to hastening such things himself, I haven't seen much of it from you so far.'

Haer'Dalis smiled wryly, looking uncharacteristically sheepish.

'Ah yes, some of our faction are more devoted to this path than others. _I_ have always found the world around me needs very little encouragement toward its own destruction.'

'Hear, hear!' laughed Fritha ruefully, 'Though I wonder why you would give Aerie the impression you were a _heartless monster_ when that isn't actually so.'

The bard shrugged. 'The day had been a trying one and I was feeling bitter and venomous; first the knightling, then the druid needling me. And you, so sad and far removed from your usual good humour.'

Fritha took a moment to reply to this; she felt rather touched he would care.

'You're very sweet to worry, but you shouldn't; I'm fine,' she lied mildly. 'And you _certainly_ shouldn't let it cause trouble between you and Aerie.'

'Ha! The dove and I need no help there!' Haer'Dalis shook his head, sighing deeply. 'Aerie is sweet and I love the care for others she carries in her heart, but her view of the world is so narrow as to stifle me. I wanted to shake her beliefs, show her another path. Different men need different philosophies and she needed a taste of the one that serves well enough for the man she loves.' He laughed bitterly. 'Or perhaps that should be _loved_.'

Fritha sent him a gentle smile.

'Well, I don't think Aerie much_likes_ you at the moment, but I doubt such a quarrel would do any permanent harm to her regard –once she knows the truth of it, that is.'

'Truth, damn truth; I've not the stomach for it! Feed me falsehoods, dear girl, for I've always had a sweet tooth.'

Fritha laughed.

'_The Neried and the Sailor_, act one, scene… oh, I forget the scene.'

'Four,' he supplied promptly, 'but well done anyway. For one who does not care for the theatre you have a broad grasp of its works.'

'Ah, you have me all wrong, sparrow, it is the singing I like, not the acting. As for _The Neried_, that was always one of my favourites. The way it opens; the first song is so bright and rousing.'

Haer'Dalis grinned, drawing a deep breath before-

'_Oh, good and merry folk of Salsport, who keep your sails so high,'_

And Fritha felt herself smiling genuinely for the first time that day as she drew a breath to join him.

'_Who never ever tremor under inclement weather, or any stormy sky.'_

xxx

Anomen scanned the treetops as they walked, trying to catch a glimpse of battlements. Fritha had informed them when they'd left Trademeet that she had agreed to deliver something to Nalia's aunt, the group heading south west through the forests and they were due to arrive soon, something which was all too welcome as he considered the loud albeit tuneful commotion behind him. Anomen glanced back at a familiar laugh to see Fritha giggling away as Haer'Dalis sang a piece that was far too high for him, the man's soprano easily constituting some form of aural torture, the effeminate gestures he was making merely adding to the spectacle. For all Haer'Dalis's claims of friendship, Anomen felt the pair were growing very close since Nalia's abrupt departure and he was reminded forcibly of the scene that had greeted him the previous afternoon, Fritha stood in the bard's arms, and the squire did not like to contemplate what could have happened had he not arrived when he did.

As for that day, Haer'Dalis had been keeping very much to himself since last night's quarrel, something Anomen would have liked to attribute to some shame on his part, though he knew it was not so. Fritha, of course, had always been loathed to let anyone suffer alone, however deserved, and had seemed resolved to keep him company. Anomen frowned to himself. Though the girl had not said she had agreed with the tiefling last night, she had not been anywhere near as appalled as Anomen would have expected, and the lack of protest that the tiefling's abhorrent views received from some quarters had been quite disturbing. Another reminder perhaps, that in a group of tree-worshipers and faithless, he and Aerie were the group's only moral compass. Anomen squared his shoulders unconsciously; he would not fail them.

As for the pair themselves, Fritha and Haer'Dalis had been walking together at the back of the group all day as quiet as mice; that was, until they had started singing. And that had been the beginning of what Anomen had considered to be a _very_ long few miles as they walked the last hour or so to the keep, the pair behind them taking it upon themselves to sing the entire score of the usual thirty strong cast of _The Neried and the Sailor _between them.

They had sung the Mermaids' Aria, which Haer'Dalis had performed disturbingly well. They had sung the Sailors' Chorus with which Fritha had had quite a bit of trouble but only due to all her giggling. And they were now on the final madrigal as they stepped into the large clearing in which stood the keep, pale grey stone against a gloaming sky.

'_With merry soooong,'_

'_With merry song and laughter gay,'_

'_We celebraaaate,'_

'_We celebrate their wedding day,'_

'_With merry song and laughter gay,'_

'_We celebrate their wedding day,'_

'_Their weeediiiing day!'_

The final note seemed to hang a moment in the still air, the silence it faded to somehow filling Anomen with a sense of foreboding. Fritha was laughing lightly with the tiefling, looking pink and breathless, her smile fading as she turned and let her eyes drift over the stone battlements above them, and it seemed the air turned colder as she set off across the drawbridge.

'Come on.'

xxx

The guards recognised them from before, the men showing them into the courtyard where a maid with a head of brown ringlets took them through to the kitchens, the girl leaving them instantly to go and inform Nalia's aunt of their arrival. The kitchens were warm compared to the cool dusk outside, a good fire roaring in the grate while around the scrubbed wooden table a handful of servants were sat preparing the evening meal, overseen by a stout old woman who was sat in a sagging armchair by the hearth, her grey hair braided and coiled about her head. She had yet to notice them enter, half-turned and speaking to the man behind her as she was, his arms full of firewood and Fritha recognised him as Daleson, the Keep's old groundsman.

'That should be enough now, Daleson, I should imagine.'

He nodded once, about to reply when he noticed them crowded in the open doorway, the old woman turning to them as well.

'Well, look who it is,' she greeted warmly, standing up to welcome them inside, 'the good folk who came with the young Lady Nalia to rout those trolls so long ago. I am Elise, the cook here. You lot shift yourselves,' she ordered to those about the table, 'let the good folk sit down. Abbey, put some tea on, there's a good girl. So,' she continued as she sank stiffly back into her chair, 'what brings you all back here?'

Fritha sank onto the newly vacated bench, the displaced servants now stood about a high workbench on the other side of the kitchen, apparently absorbed in their work once more, though she could tell by their occasional glances they too were waiting to hear her answer.

'We have been asked to deliver a letter to your mistress.'

'Really now?' Elise confirmed, leaning forward eagerly, 'It wouldn't have anything to do with that Roenall boy, would it?'

'You know we're not supposed to be talking about that, Elise,' came Daleson gruffly from where he was now sat by the hearth. Elise just snorted though.

'Bah, what are they going to do, turf me out? I've been here longer than any of them including the good Lord de'Arnise, Gods keep him. I am half glad he is not around to see the shame and misery that Roenall boy brought to his lands.' She shook her head; seemingly, both angered and saddened by what had happed there. 'Things were fine for the first tenday, everyone just repairing the damage those trolls had done and working on getting things back to normal. It was only after his parents left him to run the place alone that things changed. The boy put the tax up, to cover the repairs on the keep, so he said. Then not a month after, when we had all that rain, a blight hit the farmers who tenant the lands here and half their crop of winter potatoes was lost. They sent their representatives asking for help and he would not hear them, would not even grant them an audience, the arrogant swine! And then there were the people he kept bringing here,' she turned in her seat to send a dark look to the old man behind her, 'You can't say you turned a blind eye to them, eh, Daleson?'

'No, I don't suppose I did,' he answered gruffly.

'People?' came Aerie and Elise turned back to them nodding grimly.

'Aye, people, all with the same sad, broken look. We weren't allowed to talk to them and they'd only ever stay the night before they'd be shipped off again come the morn. Peter tried to ask about them and he was out of here so fast his feet didn't touch the floor. The rest of us knew to keep our tongues then.'

A round of nodding followed this, the servants sending each other knowing looks and Fritha could almost feel how it must have been there under Isea, the heavy oppressive silence over the keep, no one daring to even breath through fear of losing their livelihood. As for the people, she had a pretty good idea who they had been, her mind draw back to that opulent study and the programs from the Calimport slave auctions. Fritha frowned.

'And what did the Lady Delcia say about all this?'

'Well, she never said anything thing to us, but I've a feeling she had words with the boy and was told to mind her own. She was not happy with how things were being run, but what could she do? She is allowed to stay here by grace of the boy Roenall, or his father more is like. She is as much a prisoner of circumstance as the rest of us.'

Elise shook her head, sad for a moment, before she slapped her hands onto her knees and brightened, clearly trying to disperse the air of melancholy her words had brought.

'Ah, but such times I hope are behind us. The boy Isea returned to his Athkatlan house, oh, over a fortnight ago now, as he usually did for the middle three days in every tenday to attend to his businesses there, only this time he did not return… They tried to hush it up, but we found out anyway; arrested and for piracy and slaving no less!' She gave a bark of bitter laughter. 'If I could have believed it of anyone, it would have been him! His father, the Lord Roenall came back here for a while to run things in his absence, talking to the local farmers and some of the servants about what had been happening and perhaps he did not like what he found out, because he left soon after. Now everything is run by his steward, Bernart, who keeps to himself and to his room for the most part and I can't say I'm sorry in either case!'

There was a round of quiet laughter at her triumphant look that was cut off suddenly as the door opened, the brown-haired maid appearing once more.

'I have spoken to the Lady Delcia, m'lady; she will meet with you in the solar.'

The maid beckoned to her and Fritha followed the girl as she bustled up the stairs and along hallway after hallway. Fritha could see no sign of the damage wrought by the trolls, the corridors she was led down more opulently appointed than she suspected Lord de'Arnise would have had them, as though even the memory of the siege could be erased with enough fine rugs and tapestries.

'Here we are, m'lady,' came the maid before her and Fritha glanced up to see they had arrived, the polished dark wooden doors of the solar looming before them.

The maid knocked twice before opening them to show her inside, Lady Delcia immediately obvious, the old woman's white wimple a sail upon a sea of green. She was sat stiffly on an ornate wooden bench that had been draped with a mantle of dark blue velvet, and Fritha could tell she had not been there long by the way she had not yet succumbed to the chill and wrapped it about her. She looked older than Fritha had remembered her, but just as austere, the woman sending her a cold look as she waited for the maid to bob a curtsey and disappear, shutting the doors behind her.

'So…' Delcia began crisply, 'you have returned…'

Fritha nodded once, more than ready to have this audience over with, and promptly passing her the thick square of parchment.

'Yes, I have a letter from your niece, m'lady.'

Delcia's demeanour changed instantly, the cold façade slipping as she raised a hand to her chest.

'Nalia? She- She is alive? I had heard rumours…'

'Yes, m'lady, she has joined an Illmateran orphanage just north of Trademeet.'

A moment for this to register, before the woman straightened in her chair, eyes blazing.

'She would not have even left here, had it not been for your doing! Here,' Delcia snapped, making to hand her a small purse, 'take this and go!'

'Keep your gold!' Fritha spat, resisting the urge to knock it roughly from her hand, 'I delivered that because she asked me to, no more. A good evening to you.'

She turned on her heel ready to march out, though she did not get one step before Delcia's voice halted her, the woman quieter than before.

'Nalia- she told me it was you who convinced her to visit me the day after the keep was won…' Fritha turned back in time to see Delcia smile and shake her head. 'She can be so stubborn sometimes; takes after her father like that…'

The woman sighed, her face showing a regret that came from rash decisions made in anger, before she straightened and the aloofness was about her once more, though her attitude seemed much change.

'I thank you for the message. Tell Charlotte to make up the guest rooms in the West Tower- that is, if you will be staying the night.'

Fritha dipped a polite bow.

'M'lady.'

Fritha turned to go again, the rustle of parchment behind signalling the woman had turned her attention to the letter when-

'Oh, wait!'

Fritha turned back to see Delcia leaning forward, her outstretched hand holding another square of fine parchment.

'Inside it, a note for you.'

xxx

Fritha stepped out into the hall and drew the door shut behind her without a glance, all her focus on the smooth square of folded parchment she held, her name written upon one side in a familiar flowing hand and she did not notice someone was before her until they spoke.

'You all right there, m'lady?'

Fritha glanced up with a start, instantly pushing the letter into her pocket as she came face to face with, not the maid but, Elise, the old cook.

'I thought I'd come along to make sure you were all right, m'lady,' she confessed as they set off back to the kitchens together, the woman glancing warily behind her as she added, '-the Lady Delcia can have a bit of a sharp tongue when she sets her hat that way.'

Fritha shook her head, trying to summon a bright smile, all the time very aware of the parchment in her pocket.

'No, no, the lady was most courteous; she has invited us to stay the night.'

Elise's woolly eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hair.

'Staying are you? By, what did you do, offer to raise our good dead lord back to the living?'

Fritha shrugged, not entirely sure herself.

'Nothing really, just brought a letter from her niece.'

'Aye, well, that'll have done it,' said Elise wisely, 'She's missed the young Lady Nalia more than she'd admit to in a thousand lifetimes. West Tower, did she say? Right, I'll send Charlotte up there then to get the fires lit. Now, we don't usually use the main hall anymore since the Roenalls left. M'lady Delcia takes all her meals in her room…'

'I'm sure we would be happy to join you in the kitchens for dinner, madam,' offered Fritha after a moment. The woman nodded, clearly hoping for this and looking pleased her insinuation had been heeded.

'Good, good, saves me a lot of bother, I can tell you. Here we are, m'lady.'

She pushed open the door to the kitchens and stepped back to allow her to enter first, Fritha moving back over to the table to tell the other's of Delcia's offer, the knot of servants who had been idly chatting by the fireplace suddenly returning to their previous industry as Elise stalked in, the woman genially barking out orders as she passed them on her way into the pantry.

xxx

Fritha leant back against the high curved edge of the large copper bath she was sat in. The room about her was not her own one at the keep, but a dedicated washroom, all tiled floor and walls with the facilities on hand to collect and heat the large qualities of water needed for bathing. The maids, or Abbey and Charlotte as she now knew them, had kindly prepared a bath each for her and Aerie when she had asked about it, the girls even offering to stay and attend them as they washed, something she knew was usual enough in noble circles, though Fritha had assured them they would manage fine on their own. She glanced to the girl in the bath a few feet from hers, just a pale golden head above the shimmering water. She and Aerie hadn't really spoken since leaving Trademeet and now Nalia had gone Fritha realised just how little her and the elf's friendship had actually advanced, especially since Haer'Dalis had joined their company and that rift had been opened between them.

Fritha sat slowly, trying not to splash too much water over the sides as she knelt up, taking up the soap to continue her washing. There was a large mirror leant against the wall opposite the fireplace and more out of curiosity than any real vanity, Fritha turned to catch a glimpse of the reflection of her bared back. As she had thought, the last of the scars Irenicus had given her had faded now, her shoulders as smooth and unmarked as they had ever been; all she had left were the memories.

'Your skin is lovely,' came a voice behind her and Fritha sat down with a start, sloping water across the tiled floor. She had quite forgotten she wasn't alone and she turned to find Aerie looking embarrassed. 'Oh sorry, Fritha, I didn't mean to look, I-'

'It's fine, Aerie, I hardly care,' Fritha dismissed casually, very aware her words were contrary to her reaction.

'I don't like most people looking at me undressed either,' the girl continued quietly, her gaze dropped to her hands. 'There- there is scarring where they took my wings.'

Fritha sighed, feeling suddenly old. 'I'm sorry, Aerie.'

The elf just smiled though, her eyes untouched by the gesture.

'I know it's silly to even think about it, but sometimes I wish they weren't there. Do- do you have a lot of scars, Fritha?'

Fritha sighed again and more deeply this time as she leaned back against the bath's beaten copper rim.

'No… I don't have any, not one.'

Aerie turned to her sharply.

'None? But, you-you must have. I know you've been wounded…'

'Well, yes, and you should have seen my back when we first escaped that dungeon: it looked like a street map of Calimport. But I don't scar; however bad, however deep, they just fade away without a trace.'

'But how?'

Fritha swallowed though her voice remained even.

'I don't know.'

Aerie turned away again and she heard the elf sigh.

'I wish I was like that.'

Fritha smiled faintly to herself.

'Be careful what you wish for, Aerie, everything has a price.'

Silence descended once more between them, broken only by the crackle of the fire and the lapping water. Fritha looked down at a handful of shrivelled fingers. This bath had not been the relaxing experience she had been hoping for and, despite the fire, the water was cooling fast.

'Well, I think that's me about done,' she said finally, carefully stepping from the bath to quickly dry herself and struggle into one of the robes the maids had left for them.

'Oh, are you finished?' came Aerie, starting as though in a dream, 'I am too; I can help you comb your hair out if you would like.'

Fritha thanked her and it was only moments later they were both robed and sat before the fire, Fritha cross-legged while Aerie knelt behind her, both working to detangle her mass of wet curls, and Fritha was just beginning to find some of the peace that had so far eluded her when-

'Do you think Haer'Dalis thinks about them? My scars, I mean.'

Fritha felt an unpleasant sense of unease creep over her at the intimacy of the question, voice quiet as she answered.

'I- I don't know… Aerie, what is wrong with you two at the moment?'

'Oh, I don't want to talk about it,' she sighed tersely and Fritha sighed as well.

'Fine.'

Another long pause between them, the pair working in silence, Fritha's pace somewhat increased; Aerie was in an odd mood and, selfish though it was, Fritha wasn't sure she wanted to be alone with her much longer.

'Did you know he apologised to me for our quarrel the other night?'

Fritha blinked owlishly. It took a moment for her meaning to register, the girl feeling rather caught out by Aerie's tone; she certainly didn't _sound_ happy with the bard's contrition.

'Oh, well, I knew he was planning to; when did that happen?'

'He came to my room just after dinner, while we were waiting for the water to be heated,' Aerie answered, her voice rising with her temper and Fritha felt herself trying not to wince, the elf's brushing becoming more vigorous with every stroke. 'He told me about his _true_ feelings as Doomguard, that he had just exaggerated his beliefs for argument's sake!'

'Oh, well-'

'He said that he had been angry that I was being so _narrow-minded_ about it all!'

'Well, you rather ha-'

'And when I had been trying to sympathise about his beliefs too, after his mother and everything.'

'Aerie, this is really none-'

'I can't believe he would just lie to me like that!'

'Aerie-'

'And is it not bad enough he _embraces_ such destruction?'

'Aerie-'

'Doesn't he _see_ the misery it causes?'

'Aerie!' Fritha shouted, pulling away from her as a particularly vicious stroke of the hairbrush brought tears to her eyes. Aerie stared down at her, seemingly surprised, before realisation dawned and her face fell.

'Oh! Oh, Fritha, I'm sorry,' she cried, sitting back to raise a hand to her face as she began to cry and Fritha turned quickly, gently easing the brush from her hand and putting an arm about her.

'Oh, come now, Aerie, it's all right,' she soothed, waiting until the girl had calmed slightly before she continued. 'Aerie, I really don't understand why you are getting so upset about this. You knew he was of the Doomguard when you met him, you can't now expect him to change all that he is.'

Aerie pulled away from her roughly.

'I did _not_ know that his being a Doomguard meant he was working to _hasten _the world's ruin regardless of others' suffering!'

'Now, Aerie, he's already told you he doesn't really believe that.'

'So you don't care that he advocates destruction and evil and-'

'Aerie, calm down…' Fritha soothed, taking her arm again, 'there is no more or less destruction in the world for whatever Haer'Dalis believes of it. I know he thinks the universe is unravelling, but what does it matter? I doubt either of you will live to see whether he's right or not.'

'He says our love is doomed to end as well!' Aerie cried, her voice wavering with angry tears. Fritha smiled slightly.

'Well, then all you can do is prove him wrong.'

Aerie sniffed, nodding her head.

'I know, and what you say makes sense, but what if he's right? This, what Haer'Dalis and I have, it is so different from what I was expecting. I didn't think it would be like this when I was younger. I thought that once I had met someone, found love, that it would be perfect. But it is not. I feel so distant from him and we are so very different; I can only look at our future together and see the troubles to come.'

'Oh Aerie,' Fritha laughed gently, giving her shoulders a squeeze, 'I'm going to ban you from reading anymore of those silly romance stories if this is what's going to happen. Love is not perfect; it would not be half as wonderful if it were. It is something that has to be worked at and nurtured, that is why it means so much to those who have it. I don't doubt there will troubles to come for all of us in the future, but that does not mean your love will be a casualty.' Fritha sent the girl a stern look. 'And Haer'Dalis_does_ love you, of that I am sure, he just finds your views a little… stifling sometimes. Have you actually sat down and spoken to him about his philosophy? It is quite hopeful in its way: they only believe in destruction as a source of rebirth, this flawed universe ending to make way for another free of imperfection. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes only greater and brighter than before.'

'He told you that?' Aerie questioned and Fritha nodded, the elf continuing crossly, 'See, he will talk to you, why not me?'

Fritha shrugged, knowing she may well regret this.

'Well, perhaps because he knows I will just accept anything he says, without anger or censure.' She sent Aerie a shrewd look. 'You wish to rail against death and destruction, fair enough -he doesn't get angry with you for it, does he? Aerie, do you love him?'

'Yes, of course I do,' she sighed tersely, though it lacked her previous anger. Fritha sighed as well, standing to move over to her clothes and begin to dress.

'Then I am really not sure what else you need to know.'

xxx

Jaheira stretched slightly, feeling warm and almost sleepy as she watched the fire burn lower. After dinner she had found herself suddenly alone, the girls predictably disappearing off for a wash, Anomen retiring to his room to make his prayers, while Minsc and Cernd had gone for a walk about the small grounds behind the keep before the light failed completely. Cernd and Minsc had rather hit it off that day, the druid very interested in Boo; the creature, for all its appearances of being just an ordinary hamster had apparently lived a surprisingly long time.

They had invited her to join them but she had refused, the maid, Abbey showing her to the library where four deep armchairs and a bench had been set before the newly lit fire and there she had been settled ever since. That Jaheira was truly at home out in the natural world was so, but that did not mean she could not occasionally enjoy such moments as this, sat comfortably before a fire surrounded by books and opulence. The room was small but not cramped, bookcases against two of the walls while a large writing desk stood before the only window. It reminded her of the few occasions she had visited Candlekeep, and she wondered if Fritha would see the comparison too, Jaheira given no more time to consider this as the door opened and the two girls appeared, both long-faced and red-eyed.

'By Silvanus, look at the state of you both! Have you two been howling over another one of those books?'

Aerie said nothing, but Fritha grinned broadly.

'Certainly have.'

They took seats opposite her, both combing out their hair before the fire, though Aerie did not linger long after hers was dry, the girl excusing herself to retire, leaving Jaheira and Fritha alone. Jaheira shifted slightly in her chair, her leg nearest the fire overly hot.

'I was just thinking how this place reminded me of another grand library.'

Fritha clearly heard her allusion, giving an appraising glance about her before shaking her head genially.

'No, not enough books. And none of the reading rooms were ever this comfortable. In the winter, that old miser Ulraunt wouldn't allow the fires lit unless ice was forming_ inside_ the windows.'

Jaheira smiled slightly. 'It sounds as though you would have changed a few things about your old home.'

Fritha gave a bark of laughter that faded to a wistful sigh.

'Ah, not for all the world. Though I can certainly see why Nalia would want to return here.'

'You still think of her a lot?'

The girl smiled faintly.

'Only in that briefperiod from sunrise to sunset. It _is_ getting easier though. Whenever I start to miss her, I try to think of her there, warm and dry, getting to play with the children everyday. I can't help but be happy for her and perhaps I can even join her there once we have Imoen back. Ah, she draws ever closer to us; we've such a hoard to give to Gaelen when we return to the slums.'

Fritha smiled absently, clearly letting her mind drift off to some pleasant daydream and Jaheira swallowed dryly. Something else might be awaiting the girl's return to the city as well; Galvarey's last, and so far unheeded, request for another meeting pressing on Jaheira even more heavily now they had left Trademeet.

'Fritha, when we return to Athkatla, I, well-'

'Good evening, ladies,' greeted a voice behind them, Jaheira turning with a start to see Anomen stood over them; she had not even heard him enter.

'Hello Anomen, you found us all right then?' greeted Fritha brightly.

'Yes, thank you, my lady, one of the servants told me you were here.'

Fritha smiled.

'Good. Anyway, you were saying something about the city, Jaheira?'

Jaheira felt her stomach tighten, glancing from her to the squire before she finally shook her head.

'No. No, it can wait. Goodnight, both of you.'

Fritha watched her go, thoughts of Nalia brought to the fore again as she'd spent a blissful few moments imagining she, her and Imoen all living at the orphanage together. She shifted in her chair, feeling the square of parchment crackle in her pocket, still unopened, part of her wanting so desperately to know what it held, the rest of her wanting to prolong this moment forever, the letter's contents still undecided while the seal remained unbroken.

'Are you well, my lady?' came a deep voice and she glanced up to see Anomen watching her. She sighed, forcing a smile as she turned to him.

'Oh, yes, fine, fine. Just- no, it's nothing, just feeling a bit old today, I suppose. I'm sure I'll be better after a good night's sleep and if we set out early tomorrow, we can easily make Athkatla by nightfall.'

Anomen swallowed, hearing her unspoken reassurance that they would return to the city in time for his judgement.

'I think you might be a touch optimistic in your timings, my lady; the days are growing much shorter now that the winter approaches. Do not worry, the ceremonies do not even begin until noon.'

She looked at him, face unreadable in the firelight.

'When you become a knight,' she began eventually and he smiled at her very deliberate phrasing, 'will you have to leave us to serve the Order, to go on campaign or something like that?'

'I am not sure, my lady. They would be well within their rights if they wished to send me; I would have much less freedom than I do now. But I will ask them if I can stay with you. We do good work, I do not believe they would refuse me,' he finished with much more confidence than he felt.

'Good, we would be hard pressed to replace you,' she said mildly and Anomen smiled, the compliment quite unexpected, though his enjoyment was short-lived as the girl rose, swinging the weight of hair from her shoulders as she stood.

'Well, I should probably retire as well. Goodnight Anomen.'

xxx

The door was barely shut behind her before her hands were fumbling at her pocket for the letter, the girl instantly desperate to read it now she had decided it was finally to be opened. Fritha drew out the thick parchment square, her fingers almost trembling as she broke the red wax seal and began to read the familiar flowing hand.

"_My dearest Fritha,_

_If you are reading this, then you are likely at the keep and my Aunt has relented to let you stay as I had hoped. She is a strict woman, but she does observe propriety and has even been known to show kindness when it comes to the hospitality owed to those who come in service to our house. _

_Though, I must add here that if this is not you, Fritha, but in fact _you_, Auntie, I take the opportunity to tell you you're an interfering old baggage who should be ashamed at opening others' personal correspondences!" _

Fritha laughed wetly, delight and sadness both welling within her as she lost herself in thoughts of her friend, when a noise through the door at her back made her start. She knew instantly it was only Anomen, probably adding more wood to the fire by the sound of it, but it had brought her back to the world with a jolt and she suddenly realised she did not want to be caught so, there in the hallway. There was only one place she should read the hand of one she held so dear...

Nalia's room seemed unchanged since the brief glimpse Fritha had seen of it at their last visit to the keep, though then it had had Nalia rushing about it after her fight with her aunt, furiously throwing things into a bag as she made to leave her home, seemingly for good. It was in the east tower of the keep and high enough to have been allowed windows of a decent size; Nalia had always liked the sun in the mornings, she had said it put her in the good frame of mind. The girl would have certainly been happy waking there; three arched windows lined the eastern wall, each glazed, with shutters and curtains on either side. A huge bed with deep blue hangings dominated the room, the austere opulence of the frame and canopy somewhat softened by the handmade patchwork quilt that looked as old as Nalia herself.

Against the northern wall was a bookcase, the majority of volumes on it reflecting Nalia's fascination with alchemy, while next to it was a dresser covered in bottles of scent and small ornately carved boxes; the two aspects of her friend's life sat neatly side by side. Fritha smiled faintly, crossing to the bed and sinking on to the covers before going back to the parchment in her hand.

"_Anyway, assuming this is you, Fritha, well, I am sure you can tell by all my crossings-out that I just don't know what to say. As I write this I have yet to even leave my room, but I know our parting is immanent and, well, I just want you to know I miss you. I probably miss you even more terribly by the time this is in your hands. These words may seem empty knowing it was I who left you, but I mean them and I hope one day soon we will be reunited in more favourable circumstances, where our duties do not take priority to our hearts._

_Ah, I could write for pages and pages in this vein, but I am running out of time (and parchment) so I must move on to the real reason for this letter. I suppose I could just tell you this before I leave, but I recalled what you said once about hating having your 'hopes built up only to have them crushed' (you always did have a flair for the dramatic, didn't you?) Now, I don't know where you will be when you open this, but it will make more sense if you are in my room._

_If you look to the middle window there should be a chest beneath it, carved with scenes of animals."_

Fritha glanced up, her eyes falling almost instantly on the wooden chest set beneath one of the arched windows, the twilight sky beyond already speckled with a few young stars. She crossed to it, kneeling to run light fingers over the smooth rosewood lid, the side panels richly carved, covered in work of wild animals and leaves all wrought in painstaking detail. Fritha allowed herself a smile at the sprinkling of whiskers on a sleeping leopard before she finally lifted the lid, the half-light falling over a myriad of silk and linen; gowns, petticoats and sashes neatly folded and packed within, a jewel-like mix of blues and greens and ambers.

"_It used to be my old toy box when I was very small, but in more recent years it has become a store for all the old gowns that I've grown out of. Take as many as you please, dearest, it would do my heart good to think of you with them, letting them live as soubrettes rather than mouldering away as the old maids you once described. In particular, there was a dark green one that I would sometimes imagine you in, a little grand for the everyday, but perhaps you could convince that wayward bard to take you somewhere appropriate."_

The letter still clutched in one hand, Fritha knelt up slightly, searching through the chest with gentle undisruptive movements until her hand finally closed about the dress Nalia had described, Fritha pulling it to the top and opening it out as best she could. It was a deep forest green, the raw silk holding a dull sheen that had a rich depth all of its own and from what Fritha could see, the style would not have looked out of place at the Ducal Palace. The gown was simplicity itself, a very full skirt pleated and gathered to fit a narrow bodice, the richness of the fabric and quality of the cut removing the need for any further decorations.

Fritha smoothed a hand over the material, the light catching at the silk as it moved, shimmering like the iridescent hide of a dragonfly. She dropped her attention back to the letter she held.

"_Well, as you know now, time is all too swiftly passing and I've still yet to find you before I leave._

_Know that you are in my thoughts and I remain, as ever,_

_Your devoted friend_

_Nalia "_

Fritha ran a thumb lightly over the name, part of her wanting to read the letter over and over again and cling to that fleeting feeling that the girl was still in some part with her. But it was all in vain and she knew it.

Fritha closed the chest, pillowed her head on her arms and wept.

xxx

Cernd gazed up at the clouds that drifted overhead, the pale half moon giving them a silver cast as they passed across its glow. It would not be full for a few days yet and their group would be within the city by then, but even when the time came he had his herbs and meditations to help him cope with those worst three days.

Three days. The length of time it would have taken for them to reach the city.

Cernd pulled his mind away from this thought, dropping his attention to the grounds about him, the world seeming so much larger from where he was, sat beneath an apple tree in the keep's small gardens, the castle looming at his back while before him he could just see the forest's edge, the stout trunks like the silver columns of some great temple. The small grounds behind the keep were little more than an orchard and herb garden and he assumed the kitchens must have got most of their produce from the local tenant farms. He looked up and down the neat straight row of fruit trees, a contrast to the towering majesty of the forest that began again but a few yards away. Cernd knew well which he preferred but it was still good to be outside, the cold night air calming his heart like nothing else could.

In spite of all his reasoning, he _was_ nervous about his return to Athkatla, his imminent arrival at the city stirring up old memories, and they rose like clouds of insects when one walked through long grass, buzzing about his head tormenting him. He despised Athkatla just as he despised any city, with all its noise and crowds and not enough green to sooth the eyes. But for Athkatla, it was more than that. A part of him feared it, feared what he would return to and that unrest he felt made him hate the place all the more.

Cernd sighed, dropping his gaze to his hands, strong and gnarled and looking as though they should belong to someone much older than he.

He had been a different person back then, and though he had hated the city, it had been his home for nigh on thirty years while he had still been trying to be the man everyone had expected him to be, before his lycanthropy had forever decided the path of his life. He had had friends there too, good friends, and his thoughts turned as they often did on nights like this to Galia. Was she with another now? It was quite possible, for she was pretty enough, with those soft hazel eyes and that shinning curtain of long straight hair, dark and rich as ebony wood.

Leaving her had been the hardest part of all, and he could still see with clarity the sadly resigned look she had given over the rim of her cup when he had finally told her on that fateful morning as they had taken breakfast together at their old home. He recalled there had been a pause, the shouts of the merchants setting up in the Promenade below mixing with the cries of the herring gulls, before Galia had just nodded once and told him she understood, and they had finished their breakfast in polite talk, with her asking him when he planned to leave and where he would go.

But then that had always been her way, so mild and strong, prepared to accept whatever the Fates sent her without complaint. And so they had parted on good terms, or as well as could have been hoped for, with him taking little more than his belongings and leaving her the house and the business, their serving woman, Fennecia, agreeing to help with the work in his absence.

He felt a twinge as he wondered if they were there still, the pair of them running the pottery together. He could go and visit the place if he was that curious, though he knew he never would. But if he and Galia were to meet by chance in the city, would he be pleased by the encounter? It would be nice to see that she was well and happy, but in the end, it could just make things worse, dredging up memories and feeling that were best left in the past. Galia had been his wife for almost a decade, leaving her had been like cutting out a part of himself and yet he had still gone in the end; the yearning to serve Nature had been too strong.

It was as she had once said: it was not that he had not loved her; just that he had not loved her enough.

Cernd sighed again, shaking his head. Dwelling on seasons past like this would do nothing but worsen his feelings of disquiet. He had hoped that travelling with this group would have proved to be enough of a distraction from his worries, the few days journey to the city spent getting better acquainted with them all, but it had not been so. Nothing had felt quite right since they had left Trademeet, an underlying tension spanning the group and he could sense the unrest between them, as though something had been thrown out of balance. He had worried at first that as the newcomer it was his fault, but as time had gone on he had come to decide it lay elsewhere, though this was making the sharp arguments and long silences no easier to bear.

Even Jaheira, the one who had once been so welcoming, seemed ill at ease, though she hid it better than the others, and his mind was drawn to the golden-haired girl who had first caught his interest all those days ago. Aerie had barely spoken to him since leaving Trademeet and not through any lack of his trying either. He was sure the argument she had had with the tiefling the previous day was at least partially to blame, though she had hardly been responsive before then and Cernd had the feeling that whatever could have grown between them would not blossom this time.

And perhaps such was for the best too, especially when the group was already so fractured; the service of the greater balance was always his first thought.

In fact, the only man who seemed unaffected by this general disquiet was Minsc, the ranger as amiable and willing to talk as he had ever been. They had spoken much that day, his initial interest in the man's hamster companion sparking an unlikely friendship and Cernd had found they had much in common, both coming from cooler climes with a sworn duty to protect the fragile balance of those wilder places. The man had joined him out there for a short time too, the pair just walking about the grounds as they continued their discourse. Cernd had asked him about how he had come to be in that company, Minsc explaining of his Dejamma and the loss of his ward, Dynaheir, at the hands of the mage they hunted now. Though Minsc, like Jaheira, seemed happy to redirect their talk when his questions had turned to their leader and the man had excused himself soon after, leaving Cernd to settle in the orchard alone.

Cernd frowned slightly, feeling his nerves anew as he recalled the pale quiet girl who seemed to hold such an influence on those around her, whether realised or not. If he was honest, she was as much a reason for his wishing to travel with them as the one he had give to Jaheira. There was something unnatural about the girl. He had sensed it from almost their first meeting and unless he was mistaken, it was something some of the others did not want him to know more of.

She seemed different from the tiefling, but not in any way he could place. Perhaps she could trace dragon's blood somewhere in her ancestry, or possibly she was of the Fey. Whatever it was, the effects seemed all too plain to him. That group was such a strange mix of differing peoples and yet they all seemed linked to her in someway, as though her own Fate drew others into it, forever entwining their paths for then on. If such were true it was something _anyone_ with a concern for the greater balance would wish to observe and he wondered again at the loyalty of some of the others; could Jaheira and Minsc, too, follow for this reason?

Cernd shook his head. Whatever it was, he had long ago decided quite firmly on the path his life would take, cutting more binding ties than anything this group could no doubt get him embroiled in. Whatever the Fates had in store, he would always follow his own path.


	53. War and peace

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. Nor do I won '_Never mind the Why and Wherefore' _by W.S.Gilbert.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**War and peace**

'Oh, I see, my lady; so you think it is a fool's errand!'

'I didn't say that, Anomen, I just said I wasn't sure it was practical!'

Jaheira felt her temple twitch, trying in vain to block out the noise of the argument that was in full swing behind her. That she was nervous about their return to the city was true enough, but it seemed it was nothing compared to the squire's anxiety and Anomen had been in an odd humour all day, the man taking even the most innocuous of comments the wrong way, and for him and Fritha it had been one quarrel after another.

Jaheira cast her eyes up through the thinning canopy to the overcast sky beyond, the day seemingly over before it had begun. It became dark so much earlier now and they had set off later than planned that morning as well. Elise had not let them even leave the breakfast table until they had all had at least two helpings (Fritha had been distraught), the woman pressing on them an assortment of dried meats and other rations and even a bottle of elderberry wine for the journey. In fact, the old cook had only stopped when Daleson had jokingly reminded her they were heading for Athkatla not Waterdeep.

Once they had managed to quit the Keep, it had been a steady day of walking westward, the group crossing one of the rivers that would eventually flow through the city at about noon and they had been following its course northwest ever since. Jaheira sighed, drawing her gaze away from the darkening sky. It was no good, they would not make Athkatla before nightfall; better they made camp then and set off fresh tomorrow.

'Right,' she sighed as they entered a likely looking glade, turning back to the group behind her, though interruption was hardly noticed, Fritha and Anomen's argument still going strong, the squire now no less then bellowing at the girl.

'It was surely a fool's errand to ever seek your council in the first instance! Be assured now, my lady, it is a mistake I will not make again!'

'Anomen, I just said it wasn't practical, so stop bloody SHOUTING!' she screeched back even louder, a silence finally falling between them only to be broken a moment later by Fritha's embarrassed laughter, in which Anomen slowly joined her, the irony of her outburst not lost on either of them it seemed.

'I am sorry, my lady.'

'Yes, me too.'

'Now, you are both quite _finished_,' continued Jaheira curtly, sending the pair a stern look, 'I believe we should stop here and make camp.'

xxx

Anomen reached up, looping the rope about the branch above him twice as he tied off the final guy line, glancing over to check Cernd had done the same before he released it. Jaheira had predicted rain for that night and he and Cernd had volunteered to put up the canvas in anticipation of it. He watched the druid opposite give his own line an experimental pluck, the thin rope humming like the string of a lute, the canvas that spanned the small clearing taught and slightly angled against the wind, ready for whatever the weather had in store for them.

Anomen gazed up at the pale square of fabric half wishing he had the task to do all over again. He had been on edge all day, keeping busy the only thing to distract him from the unpleasant writhing of his stomach. Well, that and quarrelling, he considered dully. Anomen shook his head; he did not like himself like this, so angry and short-tempered. He had been snapping at people since breakfast, though mainly Fritha, the girl seeming to take it upon herself to spare the others from his temper. And she had appeared fine with the task, merrily arguing with him until his anger was worn out to accept his apology with a ready smile. Perhaps a little too ready, and Anomen considered that she was probably not quite so cheerful as she was willing to make out. He watched as the girl herself appeared back at the camp, returned from collecting their water and setting the pot over the fire Jaheira was currently tending.

'She bears it well.'

Anomen glanced sharply to his side to find Cernd had crossed to him and was watching Fritha as he had been, all serene eyes and mild smile.

'Sorry?'

'Your temper, she bears it well.'

Anomen bristled instantly. 'I have much on my mind at the moment! Tomorrow I must face a judgement which decides the path of the rest of my life!'

Cernd said nothing, and Anomen felt his conscience prickle, the man finally admitting with a sigh, '…though I know this to be little excuse, my temper has been hard to control for a while now.'

'Ah, yes, the anger than defies all reason and reign, I know it well.'

'You _do_?'

Cernd smiled slightly; he seemed to find his incredulity amusing.

'Why, yes, I have always found it hard to control my temper ever since I contracted my lycanthropy. I suppose it is a lingering aspect of the baser instinct I am now attuned with. But now I am a werewolf, it is perhaps even more important that I do so. I can teach you the method if you wish.'

Anomen sighed dully.

'It would seem a touch belated now; the Order will make their judgement on my past actions.'

Cernd sent him a measured look.

'Does that make it any less worth learning?'

Anomen glanced again to Fritha, the girl crouched beside the pot talking to Jaheira about something as she slowly stirred the steeping tea.

'How do you do it?'

The mild smile did not waver, but the druid's eyes seemed to take a rueful cast.

'Whenever I feel my anger rising, I think of a moment when my temper ruled me, a moment I would never wish to see repeated.'

And Anomen was suddenly back there, stood before Fritha as he had been on more than one occasion, him with his temper at its peak and her wearing that awful resigned look she would sometimes get, as though she did not expect any better from him. He swallowed dryly.

'I see.'

The druid sighed, perhaps mistaking his shortness for displeasure.

'It was not my attempt to shame you, Anomen, it is merely a method I use to remind myself of the consequences of a temper unrestrained.'

Anomen nodded, his voice warmer. 'No, I understand. Thank you.'

Cernd merely smiled, nodding mildly.

'Come along you two,' called Fritha and he turned to see her beckoning to them, an assortment of cups set about her as she ladled out the dark brown liquid, 'your tea is getting cold.'

They moved to join them, Cernd sinking into the place beside Aerie, Anomen sitting next to him, nodding his thanks as Jaheira passed him his tea. They had been the last to join the circle and the whole group was together about the fire now, a strange quietness hanging over them all, though he should not really be surprised, it has been so for days. Anomen watched those about him, Jaheira and Minsc seemingly happy to just sit a moment and enjoy their tea in silence, Cernd smiling slightly as he fed pine seeds to a roving Boo, the hamster scurrying about the grass under Minsc's watchful eye. At his side, Aerie was absently leafing through one of her spellbooks, Haer'Dalis sat rather pointedly on the other side of the fire from her and checking the tuning on his lyre. Although yet to have another argument, Haer'Dalis and Aerie did not look as though they were exactly reconciled either and Anomen wondered vaguely if the source of their quarrel still stemmed from the tiefling's views or whether something further had happened in the meantime. The squire shook his head, such things none of his concern in either instance and his eyes drifted finally to Fritha, the girl currently stood by the fire rooting through a plain linen bag she had brought from her pack.

'What are you making for the meal, young Fritha? asked Minsc, the girl glancing up to send him a smile.

'Well, Elise very kindly spared us some beef and Cernd found some mushrooms this morning that he promises won't make us all violently ill, so I think those cooked in wine and spices. Oh, and onions; I've got quite a few onions in here too. Will that do?'

Minsc nodded, smiling broadly. 'A meal fit for kings of men!'

'Yes, but unlike kings of men, I expect you to help,' she laughed as she threw out the dregs of the tea and poured a measure of oil into the now empty pot, 'You can slice the onions if you like.'

Minsc agreed good-naturedly taking the vegetables from her, Jaheira moving to help him, Fritha humming blithely to herself as she sliced the dried meat in to the now hissing oil. Anomen watched her a moment before he rose stiffly, moving to stand next to her.

'Is there anything I can do to help, my lady?'

She glanced to him, but shook her head.

'Hmm? Oh, no, I think we've everything in hand, haven't we, Minsc?' she refused genially, adding the last of the onions and mushrooms to the pot and fetching a couple of thin parchment envelopes from the top of her pack.

'Paprika,' she explained as she carefully unfolded the envelope to add a large pinch of the vermilion powder to the pot, 'and perhaps a touch of cumin as well. They say it keeps lovers faithful,' she added quietly with a smile and he followed her gaze first to Aerie and then Haer'Dalis, the pair still not speaking to each and looking as though it would take more than seasoning to get them back on good terms.

Anomen allowed himself a slight smile, turning back to find Fritha already struggling to open the wine and he was about to offer his assistance when the cork finally came loose in her hand. The squire sighed, feeling increasingly conspicuous just stood there next to her and he moved back to his place next to Aerie and began to check over his armour just for something to do, one eye still on Fritha as she worked, the girl now busy putting the wine they had been gifted to good use.

'One for dinner, one for me!' she laughed, pouring a decent measure into the hissing pot before putting a splash into her empty tea cup and downing it in one, the girl singing to herself as she divided her time between stirring the mixture and conducting her song with the spoon.

'_Never mind the why and wherefore, love can level ranks and therefore, I admit the jurisdiction, ably have you played your part; you have carried firm conviction to my hesitaaaaa-ting heart_.'

Anomen smiled; he thought she sounded quite tuneful, though it seemed he was in the minority. At his side, Aerie sighed slightly, moving a hand up to her temple.

'Are you well, my lady?'

The girl started, seemingly caught out before she smiled and shook her head.

'I am fine, Anomen, just a slight headache.'

Cernd sent her a concerned look.

'A headache?'

'It's nothing really,' Aerie protested and more strongly this time, though the druid shook his head.

'Perhaps, though it could be a symptom of much more. Do you not think Aerie looks pale, Anomen?'

'I suppose,' Anomen conceded. He actually thought she looked quite pink from all the attention she was receiving. Cernd just nodded though.

'Indeed. I can tell by the way you are sat, Aerie, that you are carrying a lot of tension across your neck.'

Aerie laughed lightly, now even pinker.

'My neck? I am surprised you would have noticed.'

Anomen frowned, suddenly feeling this was a conversation he no longer wanted a part in, Cernd looking mildly surprise by her uncharacteristically playful tone.

'Well, it could be said that it draws the eye,' he conceded eventually, a slight smile on his weathered face, 'As for the cause, well, my first guess would be your pack is probably a touch heavy for your frame.'

Aerie smiled teasingly.

'Well, it has been fine up until now -though if you are offering to carry it for me...'

Cernd laughed. 'Would that I were strong enough to carry both yours and mine, though I _can _prepare you some herbs to alleviate the pain, if you would wish.' He smiled slightly, eyes flicking for a moment to rest on the still singing Fritha, 'Though I wonder at the good it would do whilst we are being so _vociferously_ serenaded.'

'_Could it_ _be_ the man who once claimed to only have an ear for birdsong is now an authority on arias?'

Anomen glanced up sharply to see Haer'Dalis staring at them from across the camp, his eyes narrowed and looking almost liquid in the firelight, 'Though I will admit to knowing little of the former, I should _easily_ favour the raven over the lark any day you care to choose.'

Fritha had turned to them as well, still holding her spoon and for a moment Anomen got a glimpse of the weariness he suspected she had been hiding all day, the girl casting her eyes heavenward, as though another argument was the last thing she wanted.

'Now, I'm sure Cernd just meant it as a joke,' she interrupted quickly, sending the druid a smile to prove there were no hard feelings, Aerie hastily adding her agreement.

'Yes, I have a slight headache. Cernd was just offering to ease it for me.'

'Yes,' confirmed Haer'Dalis in a voice of cool displeasure, 'I heard him well enough. Well, you should take him up on his offer then; I would not have you in pain, my dove.'

Aerie's eyes widened, her cheeks pink as her surprise gave way to a hurt look.

'Well, perhaps I _will_!' she snapped, glaring at the tiefling as though willing him to retort, and perhaps he would have as well, if not for Fritha's timely intervention.

'Well, good, that's all good,' came Fritha with a sigh, turning to give the pot behind her one last stir before replacing the lid. 'Right, that should be fine to simmer for a bit. I should go and fetch some more firewood anyway. Come on, Haer'Dalis, you can help me.'

xxx

Fritha sighed to herself, a silence between them as she and the bard marched through the trees. The day had seemed a long one though she knew in reality it had probably been the shortest yet, and after she had been so prepared to look forward from now on. Last night, though distressing as it had been, had also had a cathartic effect and she had awoken that morning feeling refreshed. They would be back in the city soon where she would work to earn money enough for Imoen's rescue, after which she would be free to find a life for herself wherever and with _whomever_ she chose.

And all day she had walked with this thought, the increased weight of her pack, heavy with Nalia's green gown and an amber sash she had quite liked, pressing it into her. And yet it had all been for naught, the day of Anomen's worries and Haer'Dalis and Aerie's subtle hostilities slowly wearing her out. At her side, Haer'Dalis sighed, an indicator he was finally calm enough to talk and Fritha instantly sent him a reproachful look.

'And what was all that about?'

'I know not of what you speak, child,' he answered, his voice mellow and calm in quite a good imitation of a certain druid, 'I am as serene and bland as the trees of the forest.'

Fritha sighed tersely. 'Oh, Haer'Dalis, stop it; he's done nothing to you.'

'_Nothing_? You heard what he said of your performance!'

'I really couldn't care less what anyone thinks of my singing, as well you know, so don't even pretend that's the reason you're in a tiss.'

'A tiss?' the bard repeated, his voice taking on the mellow cadence once more 'My anger is as the tempest: furious, noble, a bit wet.'

'Haer'Dalis!' Fritha cried again, though a laugh wavered behind it and Haer'Dalis smiled slightly too, giving an exasperated sigh as he slowed his pace.

'_Well…_ I do not like him.'

Fritha snorted.

'You don't like _anyone_ at the moment.'

'I like you,' he answered promptly, but the mulish tone had gone, his eyes watching her with a strangely open look. Fritha turned away feeling suddenly sad.

'You _love_ Aerie.'

The man sighed again, nodding in acquiescence.

'Yes, yes I do, though I sometimes wish I did not. Infuriating dove. Why must she behave so, and with that _druid_ no less?'

Fritha smiled wryly.

'And what happened to you not "caging the dove"? She was just talking to him.'

'Aye, that she was! All coyness and smiles, in a manner sure to arouse my jealousy!'

'Well, you can hardly complain if she was; that is something I recall you yourself are not above when it suits you.

Haer'Dalis sent her a dark look and for a moment she thought he would argue the point, when he sighed and nodded tiredly.

'Ah, you are right, I know it. I am just ill tempered after these last few days. I apologised to Aerie yesterday, you know, tried to explain myself, but she is just as cool towards me today as she was before. And I am enough of a fool to lose temper with her and make it worse.' He shook his head, smiling ruefully. 'Ah, these mad couplings we birds try to make; I tell you, my raven, you are better off without them.'

'An easy judgement to make when you are already paired. Oh, let's not talk of this anymore,' she sighed; the whole thing was depressing and she was finding it hard to be sympathetic when they both still had each other and all their problems were of their own making.

They walked on for a while in silence after that and neither of them spoke until they had reached a large clearing dominated by a fallen tree, the gnarled trunk lying across the glade, a deep bowl of earth left where it had been uprooted and Fritha suspected it had been a victim of the last winter's storms.

'Here, this will do,' she announced, climbing to stand on the decaying trunk and taking out her frustrations on kicking off the thinner branches, Haer'Dalis collecting others from the ground.

'There, do you think that's enough?' she asked eventually, the tiefling straightening with a frown.

'No, I do not, if it means we have to return to the others. It is fine for you; I will have to endure an evening of the dove's glowering.'

'Well, that's your own fault for throwing a fit and storming off in the first place,' Fritha scolded with a laugh, 'Come on, we can sweeten our return with gracious tithes.'

She straightened to scan the undergrowth about them, the fallen tree allowing light to reach the forest floor and it seemed every dormant seed had burst forth, a myriad of plants stretching greedily up to the sudden sunlight.

'There, that one,' she said finally, pointing to a tall broad leafed plant behind him, 'Betony will cure Aerie's headache if brewed up right; pick it and let's get back to camp.'

Haer'Dalis followed her hand with a frown.

'What, that one? It looks a little… hardy. Are you sure?'

'Ah…' Fritha paused a moment, the usual doubts stirring before she shook herself, 'Yes, yes, I'm sure! I know my herblore as well as anyone, don't make me second guess myself.'

Haer'Dalis laughed, snapping it off about halfway along the stem and placing it within his coat, Fritha dropping lightly from the tree with her own haul as he gathered up the wood he had collected and they started back to camp.

'As you will, my raven, but recall to me again why we are bothering; Cernd has already offered her some concoction of his own brewing.'

Fritha sent him a shrewd look.

'If I had a headache what would you do?'

He grinned roguishly. 'Well, if Aerie was about, I'd serenade you.'

'Haer'Dalis!' she cried, not knowing whether to laugh or despair of him, 'You would want to help me, _wouldn't you_, because you would not wish to see me in distress. This is what Aerie expects as well; you doing something, even if redundant will show her you care.'

'Ugh, I find these foolish games I must play quite annoying.'

'Yes, well, you were the one who said "couplings" were madness. This is clearly how Aerie wishes to be loved. If you want to play the game then you have to follow the rules, sparrow,' she teased lightly, but the bard merely gave a disgruntled snort.

'I would warrant _you_ would not be this infuriating.'

Fritha smiled wryly. 'Oh, I'm sure I could have my moments. I might seem all mildness and manners now, but once us girls get coupled, it is our prerogative to be as stroppy and unreasonable as we can.' She gave a cursory glance about her before leaning in conspiratorially. 'I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but there's a bit of competition in it, each girl trying to outdo the others in the irrationality of her behaviour, while across the world poor men of every creed are tearing out their hair trying to make sense of it all.' She chuckled merrily. 'Oh, we girls do all have such a laugh about it when we get together.'

And they were not the only ones finding it amusing apparently, Haer'Dalis laughing warmly, the man shifting the sticks in his arms to free a hand and gently ruffle her hair.

'You are _mad, _my raven, and don't ever be otherwise!'

xxx

Anomen glanced up as Fritha and Haer'Dalis arrived back, the pair looking bright and full of smiles and the squire felt something inside him twist, though he ignored it. Aerie too had noticed their arrival, the girl turning, almost deliberately it could have been said, to engage Cernd and Anomen watched as Fritha and Haer'Dalis held a whispered argument, the girl finally giving the bard a shove towards them. Haer'Dalis moved to stand awkwardly before the pair, Aerie turning to look up at him as he drew a woody large-leafed plant from his coat to present her with.

'I have brought you this, Aerie; if steeped in hot water it should make an infusion for your headache.'

Something about Aerie expression seemed to soften. 'Haer'Dalis…'

The man shrugged evenly, still looking a touch awkward.

'Well, it was as I said, I would not see you in pain.'

'Here,' came Fritha on cue, fetching up her flask, her eyes closing for the briefest of moments before she passed it to him, 'You can use my water. Careful, it's hot.'

Aerie smiled, Haer'Dalis nodding his thanks and sitting down next to her to begin shredding the leaves into her cup, the pair talking quietly and Cernd muttered something about 'evening prayers' and rather considerately made himself scarce.

Fritha had moved back to the fire to check on her cooking, the girl adding water and more wine to the stew, and she was just dividing up the waybread she planned to serve with it, when Cernd arrived back. Anomen watched as Aerie's eyes followed him across the camp, though Haer'Dalis muttered something at her ear and she turned back to the bard with a smile, seemingly content as he put an arm about her, resting his chin upon her shoulder as he watched her continue her sewing.

They ate soon after Cernd's return, everyone full of praise for the meal though Fritha diverted all compliments to Elise's fine ingredients and it was with a better sense of fellowship than they had enjoyed in days that everyone settled down around the fire to spend their evening together.

Anomen sighed, his old training diaries not distracting him from his worries has he had hoped, and he felt restless as he watched the camp about him. Cernd and Minsc were deep in conversation, as were Aerie and Haer'Dalis, Jaheira disappearing to rinse their cups and dishes ready for the morning.

Fritha, meanwhile, was searching through her bag to finally withdraw a small square book with a brightly coloured picture of a very smiley-looking dragon on the front, which bore little resemblance to the vicious creature Anomen had met so far. It was one of the ones he assumed she had bought before leaving Trademeet and it did not look to be particularly challenging; he suspected it was intended for readers much younger than she. She opened it at the dried leaf she was using as a bookmark and settled down to read, her progress punctuated by much snickering and quiet laughter until Jaheira, who was now returned and trying to do some reading of her own, finally seemed to lose patience with her.

'By Silvanus, Fritha, must you? I am finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate with you snorting away to yourself like some wild pig.'

Fritha glanced up with an affronted look.

'I'm just laughing! What would you have me do? Stifle it? I'd rather not read at all!'

Jaheira smiled tightly, her manner unusually tense.

'Well, then you have your course.'

Fritha looked for a moment as though she would have liked nothing more than to hurl the book right at the woman's head. But Anomen had the feeling that would have been against everything the girl had been brought up to and in the end all she threw across the camp was a filthy look, pushing the volume gently back into her bag and roughly pulling out her sewing instead. She was working on embroidering a pattern of oak leaves around the neck of one the new tunics she'd bought in Trademeet and the warm amber silks she was using looked striking against the dark red linen.

Anomen sighed as he watched her sew. Her activity reminded him of something he had been meaning to do for a while now and he rooted in his own pack for a moment, bringing out the thick padded coat he'd bought two winters before for the Order's campaign in the Cloud Peaks, the dusky blue wool almost grey in the deepening twilight.

He turned it inside out, exposing the soft quilted lining and his task: the inner breast pocket. At one time only slightly worn through, he'd left it and left it and now it was more hole than pocket. He had been planning to wear the coat tomorrow and though the hole was on the inside and no one but he would know, he still felt it should be mended, that he should go before them all as whole as he could be. He pulled the two sides of the frayed material together, wincing slightly as the fabric puckered. No, it was definitely a patch or nothing now and he glanced again to the girl sat opposite, who was sewing away diligently, pausing every now and then to hook a stray curl behind her ear.

'My lady?'

'Fritha,' she corrected, glancing up only to stab her finger in the process. She frowned slightly. '_Well?_'

'My- my pocket has worn through, I was wondering if you have something I could patch it with?'

This seemed to pique her interest and Fritha held her hand out for the bundle of blue wool.

'I didn't know you could sew.'

'I am hardly skilled, but all in the Order are required to have the basic knowledge to repair their own kit.'

Anomen swallowed and the knot in his stomach tightened. The Order. In but a few hours he may never be able to mention them again without a bitter taste to it.

'Well,' Fritha continued, bringing the jacket closer to her face and carefully examining the frayed fabric, 'I'm afraid what little is left is too weak to hold a patch. You'll need a whole new pocket.'

'Oh, no matter then,' he answered shortly, moving to retrieve it. He knew from experience that a patch would have been testing his skills to the limit; sewing a new pocket was way beyond them.

'_Patience!_' she scolded, holding the coat out of reach, 'I didn't say _I_ wouldn't do it.'

Slowly Anomen withdrew his hand, his look of incredulous delight unnoticed by the girl, who had put aside her own work and was now leaning forward to pull a vicious-looking hook from the leather wallet at her side and begin the laborious task of unpicking.

All evening she worked on it. Anomen sat across from her reading a book Aerie had lent him, glancing up at intervals to check her progress. He watched her, sat as close to the fire as heat would allow with the lanterns and even her own werelight set up around her, the girl straining to get the best light as she sewed furiously fast, a smile never far from her lips. Finally, just as Jaheira was making noises about bedding down for the night, Fritha bit the thread and slipped the needle into her sleeve with a flourish.

'There, done!'

She handed the coat back to him, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth, tired eyes shining and it was immediately clear as to the source of her amusement. There was, of course, the pocket; perfectly sewn with small neat stitches in a stiff blue material she'd found among the scraps at the bottom of her pack. But on its right-hand corner, no larger than a gold piece, an eye of Helm had been embroidered in yellow and blue. He moved it slightly, watching it shimmer as the gold threads she'd slipped into the weave caught the light.

Anomen looked up to her face, utterly speechless, and Fritha grinned.

'And there He'll stay, over your heart; inspiring you to noble deeds and… to look after your coat!'

She laughed brightly, but he just smiled and nodded, still at a loss for words. Considering how worried she knew he was, and how hard he'd been to travel with lately, it was possibly one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for him.

'What has she done?' came Aerie at his shoulder and he turned to show her and a mildly curious Jaheira, the elf giggling slightly while the druid sent Fritha a fond look.

'Foolish girl.'

Fritha merely smiled.

Just a moment to decide the rota of watches and the group bedded down, Fritha volunteering for the first and summoning a small bead of light that hovered at her ear for her to read by, the girl quite content as she settled back against a tree with another book. Anomen wished he felt the same, lying under his blankets, tired but unable to pull his mind from the worries that haunted him, and he lay there watching the stars slowly wheel above him.

His mind fell more often than not on his family; it was usual for relatives to attend the ceremony, but his both his mother and sister, the only two who had ever supported him, were dead. And as for his father! He could only pray _he_ did not make an appearance. No, Anomen considered tiredly, there would be no family there tomorrow to congratulate or console, and instead he would be accompanied by group of people who he had only known for a few months at most.

The world was surely a strange place, and his mind was drawn back to the seminary that had once been his home. The future that had seemed so distant back then was now only a night away. What would that boy say now if he could see him, see the changes he had undergone, the mistakes he had made. Anomen wondered if he would even recognise himself.

The squire sighed, his head feeling dull as he final gave up. There was little point in trying to sleep now; it felt as though ages had passed since he'd first bedded down and it would be time to take his own watch soon.

'I believe it is my turn now, my lady,' he began quietly, heaving himself up slowly so as not to startle her, but Fritha just shook her head, barely glancing up from the book she was still reading.

'No, no, lie back down, Anomen.'

Anomen frowned. 'But you have taken your watch.'

'Yes,' she agreed, sending him a stern look, 'and listened to you fidget and sigh for the entirety. Get some sleep; it wouldn't do to be tired for tomorrow. Besides,' she smiled, gesturing to him with her book, 'I've just reached a good bit, so I don't mind.'

He watched her go back to the page, seemingly thinking this an end to the matter.

'Are you quite sure, my lady?'

'I practically insist.'

'What is your story about?'

'I don't think it would be to your taste, Anomen. It's about _romance_,' she confessed, putting a heavy, almost accented stress on the word and laughing softly at her own idiocy. Anomen nodded wisely, trying to stop his lips from twitching.

'Ah, romance –another tale of terrible assassins?'

'…No'

'I see… Any bakers?'

The sound of her giggling made him smile.

'Anomen, _no_! Now stop distracting me and go to sleep.'

His smile broadened at her matronly tone and he lay back down, closing his eyes with a sigh.

'Fritha?'

'…Yes.'

'I once told Sir Keldorn you did not understand the importance of the Order to Amn… but lately I have come to realise that does not mean you do not understand its importance to me… I- I will never doubt you again, Fritha.'

'Gods, don't make such promises!' she exclaimed with a quiet bark of laughter, 'You'll render our relationship unrecognisable.'

Anomen smiled to himself as he heard her return to her book. He would like to hope so.


	54. But westward look

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. Nor do I own , _'Say not the struggle naught avalieth' _by A. H. Clough.I dohowever, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine. 

– Blackcross & Taylor

**But westward, look…**

Anomen awoke to the trill of birds and a strange hissing that sounded apart from the usual wind in the brittle leaves above them, though his dulled mind did not dwell on this. He shifted uncomfortably in his blankets. There was something important about that day; some dark worry pressing on his heart, until he suddenly remembered just what awaited him later that noon and the full burden of his fate sank upon him. Glad for anything to distract himself, Anomen opened his eyes slightly. The clearing was filled with a pale dawn light, what little sky he could see past the canvas, a wan cloud-streaked amber, while across the camp, the blurry figures of Fritha and Jaheira were stood having a whispered argument.

'Fine, you did not wish to wake the boy, but you did not need to take everyone else's watches as well!' hissed Jaheira and Anomen suddenly realised that it had been their quarrel he had been listening to all along.

'I know, I know,' conceded Fritha through a stifled yawn and he could hear the smile in her voice, 'but you just looked so sweet, all nestled beneath your blankets; I didn't have the heart to wake you.'

'Foolish girl!' Jaheira scolded almost affectionately and Fritha laughed quietly, twirling back and forth on one foot, hugging herself.

'I finished my book too. Oh, the end was so good, I'm on a cloud!'

'Well, your head is certainly up there,' snorted the druid, but Fritha just laughed again, the gesture soon becoming another yawn, the girl stooping to catch up her bag and Jaheira's large iron pot both.

'Can I borrow the cooking pot? I want to wash my hair.'

'Yes, yes, fine,' Jaheira sighed, 'but mind you bring it back promptly; I will need it to make the porridge.'

'I should just do everyone a favour then and let it float away.'

'I heard that!'

Anomen smiled to himself and closed his eyes once more, listening to Fritha's footsteps fade and Jaheira quietly rustling about the clearing as she built up the fire. He could not have said when it had happened, but that group, those people, felt like so much more than just travelling companions to him now. There was a pleasant familiarity to the way they worked and laughed and even quarrelled, and he could not help but think on the unhappy truth that if he _was_ accepted into the Order, but then sent on campaign, there was a chance he would lose it forever.

Just a few more moments lain there, thinking over his life and the many decisions that had brought him to that instant, before Anomen finally sat, gathering up his bag, ready to rise and face whatever the day brought. Cernd was nowhere to be seen, the druid probably off in the surrounding woods making his prayers, but Minsc was there, sat up in his bedding, yawning as he rubbed a large hand across the back of his bald head, the man sending him a broad smile as he noticed him watching.

'Not long now, eh?'

Anomen swallowed and nodded. 'No…'

Minsc gave a loud bark of warm laughter.

'Ha! You will be triumphant, young warrior, Boo is sure of it!'

Anomen tried to smile in reply, but the thought that the ranger's hamster had confidence in him was hardly an inspiring one and he let his attention drift to the couple next to him, Haer'Dalis and Aerie still dozing in each others arms. He watched the pair a moment, both looking far happier with each other in sleep than they did in their waking hours, before Anomen realised what he was doing and turned away, uncomfortable. Jaheira was settled once more on her bedding by now, rooting industriously through her bag to finally produce a small packet well-wrapped in brown paper, the woman sighing in a satisfied way as she weighed it in her hand and glancing up to finally notice him.

'Ah, good morning, Anomen, did you sleep well?'

'Yes, thank you,' he answered and then, wondering whether the woman was subtly hinting at something else, added quickly 'I was more than prepared to take my watch, my lady, but Fritha would not be swayed.'

Jaheira offered him a dry smile.

'If you think I am ready to scold you, think again. I know the girl is as obstinate as she is foolhardy once she gets an idea in her head.'

'Jaheira, such_ flattery_! I'm blushing,' laughed a voice behind them and Anomen glanced around to see Fritha stomping through the trees, her cloak hugged about her and hair damp.

'You're going for a wash, Anomen?' she confirmed with a glance to the bag in his hand, 'Well, I hope you've prepared yourself, because that water is _freezing_.'

Fritha laughed again as she threw herself down onto her bedding, but his nerves were already so bad now he could not think of an answer and merely offered her a weak smile as he rose, shouldering his bag to head for the stream.

Anomen moved through the trees, breath misting in the sharp air as he drew slow measured lungfuls in an effort to calm the writhing of his stomach. He had never been so nervous and part of him wished the whole thing was over with either way. But he had a whole morning of this agony to face yet and he would have to endure it as best he could; keeping himself occupied with a wash the best first step, he considered as he finally reached the stream. Anomen had dropped his bag under a tree and pulled off his tunic and shirt in one when he noticed them at the bank's edge: Jaheira's covered iron cooking pot and a small linen bundle on the flat rock next to it. He threw the clothes to land on his bag and moved over to them, crouching to uncover a bronze hand mirror, sliver of soap and Fritha's silver embroidery scissors. He lifted the lid of the pot next to them and steam engulfed him. As he'd thought: hot water.

He could not have said later how long he sat there just staring at them, unmindful of the cold breeze on the bare skin of his back, those four ordinary objects suddenly elevated to the status of relics. He would have expected many things of one such as her, one who had been touched by great dark powers. She could have easily been corrupt, a force for unimaginable evil. Even as clearly good as she was, he would have expected a righteous passion, a judging hand of the gods themselves. But never before he met Fritha had he ever considered that any of Bhaal's children would be so thoroughly _nice_. Mending his coat the night before, taking his watch for him and now this. Things that did nothing to really help him with the trial he would too soon have to face and yet she did them anyway, as though to show she realised how important it was to him.

Fritha was right, the water was _very_cold. With gritted teeth, Anomen waded across to the deeper bank and stooped to wash as best he could, reminded of why he did not attempt such very often. The soap seemed to be the last of one of her better ones and worked into an easy lather, he suspected for when she did not wish to linger overly long on cold mornings. He broke off that line of thought quite quickly though; thinking about her washing making him feel uncomfortable.

Finished, he waded back to the bank, rinsing off any remaining soap with the hot water she'd provided and climbing ashore to dry and dress. He had taken the chance to trim his beard on the night they'd spent at de'Arnise Keep though he took a moment to take up the mirror and tidy it by hand. He had worn it for so long now, he could barely recall what his face had looked like without it and what he remembered probably wasn't all that close to how he looked now anyway. He took in the broad forehead, strong brow and full lips. His skin was a shade darker than his sister's had been but the light blue eyes were the same and the overall effect was not displeasing; he wondered vaguely if anyone else thought so too. Anomen sighed, shaking his head as he laid the mirror back down next to the soap and scissors, wrapping them in the linen once more, before refilling the now empty pot with water and starting back to camp.

The canvas was down and packed away by now, Aerie and Haer'Dalis awake and sat up in their bedding just as Minsc and Fritha were, Jaheira stood and tending the fire

'Ah, you have brought back the cooking pot, Anomen,' greeted Jaheira as he approached, 'Good. The fool girl _apparently_ forgot it when she returned from washing her hair.'

Fritha looked _deeply _offended at this unfounded suspicion, though it could not quite hide her smile.

'Ah, the faith you have in me, Jaheira, it warms the heart.'

Jaheira ignored her.

'Pass it to me then,' she continued, holding her hand out to Anomen and he obliged her, setting it over the fire. Jaheira nodded her approval. 'And you've filled it too, very considerate. Fritha.'

The girl waved a hand in the woman's vague direction and steam instant billowed from the pot. Anomen watched it a moment, wondering whether he should be worried by the effortless power Fritha seemed to be developing, before turning his attention to the girl herself, throwing down his cloak to settle beside her and press the small linen bundle in to her hand.

'Thank you, I didn't expect- well, my thanks.'

Fritha smiled, seemingly bemused by his gratitude.

'You're quite welcome. Hey what are you doing?' she asked, glancing back to the druid to watch her drop five eggs and pour a good measure of rice into the now boiling water, 'That's not porridge.'

'Hmm, oh no,' agreed Jaheira with a deliberate nonchalance, 'the cook, Elise gave us a few eggs and some dried fish along with the other supplies gifted by the Keep –I had forgotten until I checked my pack this morning.'

'You forgot, eh? Seems to be a lot of that going around, doesn't there?' Fritha commented with a shrewd look. But Jaheira merely told her to 'pass the saffron,' before going back to her cooking.

'Something smells most pleasant,' came Cernd as he finally arrived back at the camp moments later, 'what are we having?'

'Kedgeree,' answered Fritha, barely glancing up from where she was peeling the now boiled eggs, passing them back for Jaheira to slice into the rice, the fire crackling as she threw in the dark speckled shells.Anomen watched the two at work. Jaheira knew he did not like porridge. Was he to believe it was merely a coincidence that it was on that morning, of all mornings she just happened to decide to make something else? And in that moment, Anomen felt suddenly touched by the support some of the others were willing to show him, however indirectly. He sighed deeply, Fritha glancing to him.

'Are you nervous?' she asked quietly. He shook his head, but could do no more to further the lie and Fritha smiled. 'Well, we'll easily make the city by noon, so there's no worry of you missing the… er, proceedings,' she finished after an uncomfortable pause, the girl sighing as she turned back to her peeling, 'Though we could have been there already if we had been more prompt in leaving Trademeet.'

Anomen said nothing. Fritha was clearly blaming herself for the delay, but he knew what had been the cause and he certainly did not fault her for it. Besides, part of him was glad to spend the last few hours travelling rather than sat in some room in the Coronet with nothing to distract him from his growing worries. At the fire, Jaheira was stirring the last of the fish into the pot, the appetising smell of smoked haddock hanging in the air and Anomen was filled again with the overwhelming wish that the time would pass more quickly, the feeling conflicting with his growing desire to stop its passage completely and live forever in the peace of that morning. But, unsurprising, time did not bend to his wishes and he watched as the sun slowly rose in the eastern skies, the day creeping on, carrying him unwaveringly to his fate.

xxx

Cernd glanced up, trying to catch a glimpse of the robin he could hear singing somewhere above him. The forest was beautiful, still teeming with life and thriving even with the winter approaching. They had been walking all morning and were not far from the city now, he and Jaheira leading the way, Fritha and Minsc walking side by side behind them and seemingly continuing their Rashemi lessons, while the others brought up the rear. Cernd sighed, letting the harmony of the world about him enter his heart.

'Ah, the verdure of these lands are balm for the soul.'

'What is Cormyr like?' came a voice, the man glancing back to find Fritha smiling politely.

'Cormyr? I must admit I did not really visit any of the cities, though my grove within Hullack forest was a beautiful place of ferns and mosses. And yet even such a sanctuary of Nature had its draw backs,' he admitted, though he elaborated no more on this, Jaheira sending him the slightest of smiles. In the end, he had only told her the truth of his old grove and Grand Druid there who had about as much tolerance of lycanthropes as Faldorn had, though the man had at least had the civility to pretend he was not so prejudiced.

'No,' Cernd continued, letting his eyes drift about him once more, 'the northern lands have a wild beauty to them, but even they cannot compare with the breathtaking fertility of these warmer climes. I sometimes feel as though these trees could grow forever; it pains me to see so much of it taken by farmland.'

Minsc shrugged evenly. 'Perhaps, though Boo says people are of Nature too; they must have places to live and eat, just as the birds and squirrels do.'

'That maybe so,' conceded Jaheira, 'though any encroachment of civilization on the wild places is a loss to be mourned.'

'I can't see why Nature and civilisation can't just get along and live side by side,' sighed Fritha, 'farms next to forests.'

'That would be fine in the ideal but in many cases I find the balance is impossible to reach,' agreed Cernd gravely, 'Where you see harmony, I see a blight slowly waiting to spread and take the whole.'

Fritha laughed brightly, laying an allying hand on Minsc's arm.

'Yes, well, where _you_ would see harmony, _we_ see lots of happy trees and lots of starving people.'

Cernd raised an eyebrow. He did not want to be the source of any arguments and from what he had seen of Amn as he had travelled back south to Trademeet, the farmlands seemed little increased since the last time he was there.

'Perhaps that is so. Over the history of Cormyr, much of the wilder places and forests have been lost as farms expanded without check; I suppose I am more sensitive to such things than others.'

'Well-' began Jaheira sternly, before she stopped herself, the woman's gaze shifting to further down the path, 'Oh, wait a moment, we're getting ahead of the others. Come, along you lot!' she shouted, frowning slightly as she continued. 'Hmm, Aerie appears to be limping. Carry on walking, I will go and see what the problem is.'

And with that she left, Minsc looking torn a moment before he followed her, his concern for the elf evident, and leaving Cernd and Fritha relativity alone. Fritha sent him a friendly smile as they simultaneously fell into step and slowed their pace.

'So, you're looking forward to our return to the city then?'

'Why?' he questioned a touch too quickly, 'Should I be?'

The girl sent him a bemused look.

'_No_, at least I wouldn't have _thought_ so, with you being a druid and all, hence the irony of my question. I know Jaheira hates the city, though perhaps I am generalising somewhat.'

Cernd shrugged. 'Perhaps, but your assumption still rings true in my case; no, I am not particularly looking forward to my return to the city.'

'Return?' she repeated, '_You_ have been there before?'

'Sorry? Oh-' Cernd paused. He could lie here, claim he was referring to their return as a group, but it seemed a touch unnecessary and he eventually admitted, 'Yes, I have been there before, though it was two years ago now.'

Fritha watched him a moment, her look unreadable.

'Why did you want to travel with us Cernd? You know we will be venturing away from the city less and less now winter approaches.'

'Why?' he repeated. Well why had he? Logically, she was right, his decision did not make much sense. 'Well, I could not have stayed in the grove despite how it may have seemed, and I feel I have outgrown my home in Cormyr somewhat; it is good to get away from a place now and then, that you may appreciate it all the more when you return.' She was still watching him curiously and he wondered if she suspected this was not the whole truth of it. Would there ever be a better time to ask her? Cernd glanced back to Jaheira and the ranger, still occupied it seemed, and the druid returned his gaze to Fritha, his decision made. 'But I suppose the main reason was that I wished to travel with you.'

'_Me_?' the girl repeated, looking thoroughly unnerved and Cernd could not help but smile.

'I see some explanation is in order. Perhaps there is something I might ask you?'

'_Anything _if it will help you make some sense.'

'As a servant of Nature, I am dedicated to preserving the balance that exists between all living things and in doing so I have become practised at sensing the balance within all creatures. But you, there is an aura about you that I cannot place… I don't know quite how to phrase this, but are you, well, normal?'

The girl flushed instantly, though seemingly more with anger than any embarrassment on her part.

'Oh, don't mince your words in any effort to save _my_ feelings, will you, Cernd?' she hissed, '_"Are you normal?"_ You cheeky sod!'

'Please Fritha,' he soothed; he had been prepared for awkward and reticent, not offended. 'I meant no insult and this is not a matter of your character; indeed, some things run deeper… though you can take the leopard from the jungle, he still has his stripes.'

The girl sighed dully. 'Spots, Cernd. Leopards have spots. You're thinking of tigers. But it is a good analogy, Fritha the Stripy Leopard, who acts and sounds and lives just like all the others and yet that difference always remains…' She sighed again, glancing about her to check their discourse was still a private one before catching him with that near-black gaze, 'I'm one of the Children, Cernd, a Bhaalspawn.'

He had not been expecting that and for a moment all he could do was stare, as though waiting for her to smile and admit she was just teasing him. But it did not come and he realised she was not joking. Well, it was worse than he had anticipated but at least he knew now what had been unsettling him for so long and the girl herself had been so readily accepting of his own abnormality, that he felt it would have been rather unfair to make any fuss about it.

'One of the Children… I see. How does it go? _The Lord of Murder shall perish and in his wake he shall sown a score of mortal progeny_.'

Fritha smiled wryly, but it didn't reach her eyes.

'_So sayeth the wise Alaundo_.'

A silence fell between them and they walked on for a while neither of them speaking, Cernd very aware of the time passing, the many questions he had still buzzing about his head, until-

'What is it like?'

'Like?' Fritha repeated with a frown, 'It's not like anything really, well, not that I'm aware.'

'Not that you're _aware_?'

'Well, I've always been one, haven't I?' She laughed at his disturbed expression. 'It is not a mask I wear, Cernd, nor is it something buried deep and hidden at my heart. It is just who I am, as much a part of me as my silly ginger hair. Does being a werewolf define all that you are?'

'Well, no,' he admitted, 'but I was not always a werewolf.'

'Well, _I_ was not always a Bhaalspawn, at least, I did not know I was. I only found out a few months ago. Am I a different person now that I know?'

'You are not a different person, no,' he pressed evenly, 'but you must be aware now that there is a greater difference in how you can affect the world and others about you.'

Fritha shrugged. '_I _am no different, unfortunately how others seem to wish to treat me _is_. It can cause trouble, I know. But there is no need to fret too much about you Balance, Cernd, I do not want to change the face of Faerûn, I want only a peaceful life.'

He was about to say she may well be wishing for the impossible, but he expected the girl probably knew this already and in the end he just nodded once.

'I see… And who knows of this unique lineage?'

The girl smiled wearily.

'Well, it feels like the whole of Amn some days, but if you mean among my friends, Jaheira, Minsc and Anomen.'

'Ah, a secret, is it? Then it shall be as the worm in the winter, buried deep and dormant in the frozen earth of my heart.'

'Yes, well, I'd appreciate that. And while we're on the subject of the secret, what are your intentions towards Aerie?'

Her question was so abrupt it took Cernd a moment to reply, his face feeling suddenly very hot, though his voice did not betray his discomfort.

'You will forgive me, but I don't see how that is any of your business.'

The girl sighed, wryly amused.

'Well, that's the funny thing about being the leader, lots of things you _really _wish weren't your business, suddenly are.'

He paused a moment, watching her to see if she would give up her pursuit, but she merely stared back at him and in the end he sighed and surrendered.

'Though I will not deny to finding Aerie quite charming, I have no intention of seeking of her anything other than the friendship I would wish from any of my companions.'

Fritha nodded evenly, seemingly satisfied that her group would not have to face any trouble of this sort and smiling as she turned back to their path, the trees finally thinning up ahead and the girl halted at the forest's edge, gazing down the valley.

'Ah, look at that!'

And Cernd followed her to gaze down on the verdant Athkatlan river delta shimmering under the mid-morning sun; the city, all domes and spires from this distance, sparkling upon the rich green patchwork of fields, and haloed by deep indigo blue of the sea; had it really been two years since he'd seen it last? It gave no hint of the crowded squalor that could be found within its walls and Cernd could almost understand the girl's delight.

'Ah, have we arrived?' came a voice and the pair turned to see Jaheira, the others not far behind her.

'Oh, you've caught up,' smiled Fritha, 'What was wrong with Aerie?'

'A bee, disturbed by our quiet passage, got all tangled under the dove's skirts and stung her leg in its confusion,' explained Haer'Dalis, looking as though it was taking a _momentous_ effort not to laugh.

'All better now?' asked Fritha kindly, the elf nodding and looking more than a touch embarrassed. 'Well let's be off then.'

xxx

So much for time not bowing to the wishes of mortals, Anomen considered nervously; the journey back to the city had seemed to pass worryingly quickly and the walk through Athkatla had gone even faster. One moment they were just passing under the busy city gates, the bells tolling high sun, the next they were stood before the huge sandstone gateway of the Order. Anomen drew a deep breath as they moved over the threshold, taking a moment to gaze up at the richly carved underside of the arch, well aware that it could be the last chance he would ever have to do so.

The courtyard before them was crowded, young men who had already faced their judgements glowing with their achievement and surrounded by their relatives: proud fathers, teary mothers, brother, sisters and young wives, all smiling and talking and Anomen felt a little out of place as he moved through the press with, not his family, but a mismatched group of people he had barely known more than a season. They were heading towards the Great Hall, the huge solid building opposite that stood at the heart of the Order compound. Anomen halted suddenly as pair of excited children enjoying a duel with wooden swords nearly barrelled into his legs, their mother appearing an instant later to gather them away with an apologetic smile.

'Ah, you have arrived, Squire Anomen,' came a warm commanding voice over the bustle and Anomen glanced up sharply to see the broad tow-headed figure of Sir Harn, one of the Order's higher-ranking knights, the man beckoning him over to the right of the main doors where a small, far less ornate doorway was set. 'Good, good! You're the last one; there were worries you had been delayed. Now, in here then,' he ordered genially, gesturing to the door he was holding open on to a small square room of white marble and high windows that Anomen knew led onto the Great Hall. He nodded once, having seen the ceremony enough times for others to know what was expected of him, his heart suddenly beating heavily against his ribs as he turned back to the group behind him, his eyes dropping briefly to the girl at his side, trying to find the words in his apprehension.

'Everyone, I-'

'No time for that now, young man,' Harn cut in, genially ushering he and Fritha towards the door before him, 'the lady can attend you if she wishes. In you both go and just wait until your name is called.'

And before either could speak, the door was shut and a sudden silence engulfed them, the sounds of the bustle outside muted and unreal. Anomen felt numb. He had waited for this moment so long, lost himself in so many daydreams of this triumph, that now it had finally arrived it did not feel real.

'You should probably change now,' came Fritha next to him, her voice quiet and more solemn than he was used to hearing it, 'it will likely be soon.'

He nodded, dropping his pack to remove the coat she had mended and his dark blue formal tunic, Fritha averting her eyes as he quickly changed before she helped him on with the jacket, circling him to brush down the shoulders as he buttoned it closed.

'There,' she said, stopping before him and looking him up and down, 'you-'

'Squire Anomen Delryn.'

The deep echoing voice made them both start, the pair glancing sharply the door opposite. Fritha turned back to him, nodding once and clapping him heartily on the arm, steadily holding his gaze.

'You'll be fine.'

'Will you come with me to hear the judgement?'

If she had any hesitation at his request, she did not show it, just nodded again, unusually serious, and shouldered his bag to follow him into the hall.

xxx

The room was much more crowded than on Fritha's last visit, the myriad of people that lined the walls watching them as they entered and doing nothing for the hall's imposing air. Anomen walked forward down the three steps into the sunken centre of the room, Harn beckoning her over with a friendly smile to stand before one of the surrounding pillars next to him. Bright scarlet banners emblazoned with the Order's crest hung from the ceiling, the people around her all dressed in their finery or wearing ceremonial armour. The whole effect was very grand and Fritha felt rather out of place stood in her only clean but rather creased tunic, the austerity of the place making her nervous. It didn't help that she was exhausted, but she kept on her best behaviour, stood alert and watchful and trying not to fidget, very aware of the fact that her yawning her way through the proceedings would be only marginally less embarrassing for Anomen than his father turning up drunk.

Prelate Wessalen was stood at the opposite end of the hall before the huge statue of Torm, his armour shining in the sunlight that was pouring through the tall windows behind him. Anomen had taken his place knelt on one knee before him and Wessalen let his gaze travel the room once before he began, his grave voice echoing about the silent hall.

'Anomen Delryn, son of Cor and Moirala, do you stand before me pledged to the service of justice? Do you stand before me pledged to the service of righteousness?'

Anomen kept his head bowed respectfully but his voice still carried to every corner of the room, the confident tones betraying none of the turmoil Fritha knew was within him.

'Prelate of the Order, I do so stand. I pledge my life to the service of justice and righteousness.'

'Anomen Delryn, do you stand before me seeking a knighthood of this Order?'

'I do so stand.'

'Do you stand before me prepared to accept the judgement of this Hall. Are your past actions laid bare? Shall I judge you as I was once judged?'

Fritha thought she sensed the slightest pause and if ever Anomen's nerves were apparent, it was then, though his voice was steady as he answered.

'My past actions I lay before you. I ask that you judge me as you were once judged.'

Wessalen drew a deep breath and closed his eyes. Fritha mirrored his movements, eyes squeezed shut and fingers crossed behind her back, the tension in the room so she could barely stand it. Finally, she heard the Prelate sigh, Fritha opening her eyes to see him gazing down at Anomen, the man sending Sir Ryan the slightest nod.

'So shall it be. The judgement is clear. Anomen Delryn, you have proven yourself worthy. I dub thee Sir Anomen, Knight of the Order.' Sir Ryan had stepped forward, the sword he held drawn and he let the blade rests upon each of his shoulders in turn and finally his head before sheathing the blade to pass down it to the still kneeling man, 'Arise Sir Knight.'

The cheer that went up from the surrounding people was deafening, Anomen's friends rushing in to congratulate him and she recognised Erick and Simon among them, though Fritha herself hung back, smiling as she applauded politely and feeling almost faint, the girl leaning back against the pillar behind her and trying not to look as relieved as she felt lest people think she had not believed he would be accepted. Fritha felt a pleasant warmth glowing within her, more than happy for the man who, until the last moment, had still seemed so plagued with doubts. She smiled as she watched him shake hands and laugh with the men, the sound of them seeming overly loud in that usually hushed building. But it died suddenly as he caught a glimpse of her through the press, ignoring the well-wishers to move towards her, the way parting silently before him.

Fritha smiled as warmly as she could under the gaze of the assembled Order.

'Congratulations, Anomen.'

Anomen said nothing; words seemed beyond him. His eyes were shining and she'd never seen him look quite so alive. For a moment she thought he would embrace her, but at last he seemed to gather himself, merely laying a hand on her shoulder and putting all that feeling into a firm squeeze that would have made her wince had she not still been on her best behaviour.

'Sir Anomen, a word please,' came Sir Ryan Trawl's deep voice from somewhere outside the group and Anomen nodded once to her before breaking contact and moving through the thinning crowd. Fritha stood a moment, feeling self-conscious as all eyes turned back to her, clearly interested in one who had been so singled out by their fellow, before she scuttled back outside to her own friends.

'How was it?' asked Haer'Dalis by way of greeting, the group pretty much where she had left them, stood a little apart from the crowds by the stables, 'He sounded as though he was about to lose control of his bladder when you left us.'

'Haer'Dalis!' scolded Aerie sharply. Fritha smiled, their bickering unable to extinguish her good mood.

'He passed; he's just talking to Sir Ryan now.'

'Thanks be to Silvanus,' breathed Jaheira, her face lit with a relief that Fritha knew all too well.

'Aye for he would have been_unbearable_ had he not,' agreed the bard.

'Sparrow!' cried Fritha laughingly, lightly slapping his arm for good measure and Haer'Dalis grinned.

'Ah, come now, I am happy for him, truly.'

'Here, let's wait over there,' she smiled, pointing over to the stable wall, 'He'll be able to see us better from the doors.'

'Aye, we should position ourselves so he can best see us, his adoring followers.'

'Haer'Dalis!'

xxx

Ryan was stood at the edge of the hall, a little a part from the crowds that had been so centred around him and Anomen joined him there, raising his hand in respectful salute of the man who had been his mentor those past four years. The Knight Commander smiled, returning the gesture as he spoke.

'So, Sir Anomen, I cannot say how pleased I am to be finally able to name you so. It has been a long time in the coming, but most deserved in the end.'

Anomen dipped his head in a slight bow, trying to find the words to express the pride and gratitude he felt with him.

'I thank you, sir, for both your words and your guidance all these years; I am sure I would not have even seen this day without it.'

The man nodded once, gravely accepting his thanks, and Anomen swallowed, feeling the question that had been pressing on him for over a tenday now and steeling himself to continue.

'In truth, sir, I once thought that I might not achieve my goal in_ spite _of all your support. I was sure I would not be accepted to knighthood after I allowed Reynald and his brothers to go free.'

Ryan raised a dark eyebrow in a look of mild surprise.

'Really, is that what you thought? It was after you confessed to me you had allowed the Fallen Ones to go free, that I finally decided you were ready to be put forward to be judged.'

'Sir?'

The old paladin smiled slightly.

'I knew that not all here would look upon your decision as the correct one, and I could tell by your bearing that you too were unsure of the reception your choice would receive. Yet you were willing to risk everything, all you had so hoped and strived for to act in goodness and do what you believed what right, and _that_ is the measure of true knight. Ah, Sir Harn,' Ryan greeted as the paladin arrived, Anomen moving quickly to salute him, though he was not fast enough, the blond knight beaming as he shook his hand.

'Congratulations, my lad, very well done -this will be you, one day, Marc,' Harn added to the young squire at his side, the boy smiling nervously and, for all his timidity, Anomen could see the clear respect he held for his knight in his eyes.

'Ah, Sir Anomen, excellent!' came a familiar voice behind them, and Anomen turned to see Prelate Wessalen join their group, the older man smiling kindly, 'I am most glad to have another worthy soul join our brotherhood.'

Anomen merely nodded and saluted, unsure of how else to reply. 'My lord.'

'So, what plans have you now, Sir Anomen?' the Prelate continued genially, 'There is a command in Sir Harn's regiment available, is there not?'

'Why indeed, Prelate,' agreed Harn enthusiastically, 'the great siege of Muraan is a fine place to start a career and we are always in need of experienced warriors.'

Anomen swallowed, feeling rather on the spot.

'Well, my lord, I was hoping to remain travelling with my group. I have undertaken a quest to help the Lady Fritha rescue her friend and I should like to see it through.'

Ryan opened his mouth to speak and Anomen could tell that he was less than keen on the idea, perhaps thinking it was not the best way for a new knight to distinguish himself and his nascent career, though he was too late in his protest.

'Yes, yes,' nodded Wessalen, smiling broadly, 'I cannot see why not. Your group is getting quite the reputation for good works about Amn and it is important to see those oaths we have undertaken through until the end. Well,' the Prelate continued, straightening slightly, 'I should go and speak to other knighted. Congratulations again, Sir Anomen. Sir Ryan, Sir Harn, Marc.'

And with that the Prelate left them and one by one, the others made their final congratulations and drifted away as well, though Anomen was not left alone for long.

'So, _Sir _Anomen, is it now?' came a familiar voice behind him, 'I must admit, it has quite a nice ring to it –not as nice as Sir Simon, of course, but you can't have everything.'

Anomen smiled, turning to see Simon and Erick, his two closest friends lingering after the ceremony for the chance to talk to him properly, the younger man grinning broadly, 'Congratulations again, friend.'

'Yes, well done,' agreed Erick, the knight stepping forward to heartily shake his hand and Anomen could sense the solemn sincerity behind their light-hearted bearing.

'So, what have they got planned for you now?' asked Simon as the three turned as one and began slowly walking towards the doors.

'I have been allowed to continue my journeys with this group. I made an oath to myself that I would help Fritha retrieve her friend; I am pleased I will not have to remiss on my word'.

Simon nodded nonchalantly. 'Yes, quite so… And your young leader is as fair as ever, I see.'

'Yes, she is very… nice.'

'_Nice_?' repeated Simon, looking as close to losing his temper as Anomen had ever seen him.

'Well, you cannot deny it is an improvement on _capable_,' quipped Erick mildly, but Anomen just shook his head.

'You misunderstand me. I mean she is nice; so full of quiet kindness, I cannot say.'

The men before him shared a look.

'Anomen,' began Erick, frowning slightly, 'have you formed an attachment?'

'No, of course not,' he dismissed quickly, turning from them to hide the flush he could already feel burning his face.

Another silence in which he suspected another glance was shared, but Anomen did not look back to confirm it, gazing out through the open doors to the slowly emptying courtyard, his friends stood by the stables all laughing and talking brightly.

'Well,' continued Simon behind him, 'we've arranged to go out later to celebrate, just us two, Sadir, Diesveld and a few of the others who are about -why don't you invite some of your companions along as well? The more the merrier.'

Anomen nodded absently as Aerie glanced up to finally notice him at the doors and sent him a friendly wave.

'Yes, perhaps…'

Everyone else looked around at the gesture and he left the Great Hall to warm applause, his friends all smiling and congratulating him.

'Well, look at you; I suppose I can call you knightling no longer, eh?' laughed Haer'Dalis, dipping his head in the suggestion of a bow as Jaheira more properly shook his hand.

'Congratulations, Anomen, I am pleased to see your perseverance has come to fruition.'

'Another glorious warrior joins the ranks of righteousness,' boomed Minsc, clapping him on the back with an enthusiasm that nearly floored him, 'Boo knew you would be accepted!'

'We're all so happy for you, Anomen,' added Aerie with a smile, the girl glowing, 'you must be so proud.'

Anomen nodded, trying to find a reply for them all.

'Yes, I am pleased… though I could not have done it without help.'

His eyes fell on the girl next to her, and he wondered if Fritha knew how grateful he was to her, though if she did, she did not give any hint of it, the girl merely sending him a small smile.

'And westward look,' she said mildly, casting her eyes out beyond the walls, 'the land is bright.'

Anomen felt himself grin and together they laughed.

'What is this? Laughing on such a solemn occasion, Anomen; for shame!' And Anomen turned with the others to see Simon walking across to them, Erick not far behind, the young man shaking his head at Anomen with a disappointed look which did not hide the spark of amusement to his eyes. 'Ah, my Lady Fritha,' he continued warmly, stepping forward to take her hand and bow slightly, 'I should have known wherever you are, joy is sure to follow.'

'Yes, that or trouble,' Fritha said and Simon laughed, the two men joining their group, everyone talking amiably amongst themselves and Anomen found himself next to Fritha, the girl handing his bag back to him, her eyes falling pointedly on the ceremonial sword now slung at his hip.

'So does this mean you will be joining Minsc and I, and be laying down your mace in favour of the blade?'

Anomen smiled slightly.

'I think not, my lady. Though it is battle-worthy, this sword is more a sign of my knighthood and my mace serves me better.' He let his eyes run along the scarlet gold-bound scabbard and over the ornate hilt, a pair of cast gilt lions on the cross-guard while the pommel bore the crest of the Order. 'There was a time when I doubted I would ever have the honour of bearing one. They are made here by the Order's smiths and each is a unique work.'

He took up the scabbard to proffer it to her and Fritha drew the sword carefully, weighing the blade in her hand and making a couple of practise swings before turning it over to better admire the hilt.

'It's very well balanced and the etching along the blade is quite beautiful.'

She smiled, handing it back to him and he nodded, his voice coming slightly hoarse.

'Yes. Yes, it is.'

'Well, is it off to your theatre, my raven?' cut in Haer'Dalis, 'You said you would visit as soon as you returned to the city.'

Fritha pulled a face and sighed tiredly.

'Yes, I suppose I should.'

'You are going with her? Straight away?' came Aerie sharply, the tiefling looking for a moment as though he would blithely confirm this before he quickly shook his head.

'Y- No, my dove. The raven's skills have long since surpassed requiring my assistance,' he praised with mock humility, his eyes flicking for the briefest of moments to Anomen, 'though I do not like the idea of her making the way alone, perhaps the Squire Simon could escort her.'

Anomen felt his stomach lurch unpleasantly at the idea of Fritha and his friend alone together, a feeling that did not stem from any jealousy on his part either. Simon suddenly looked as though his birthday had come early, the squire sending Anomen a broad, knowing smile.

'I am actually heading across the river to the northern quarters on an errand for my knight, m'lady, and I would be glad to join you.'

Fritha looked rather caught out by it all, but eventually she smiled and acquiesced with good grace.

'Er, well, that would be very kind of you, Simon. It was very nice to meet you Sir Erick. Congratulations again, Anomen.'

And with that they made their farewells and left, Anomen watching as they crossed the courtyard, their voices drifting back to him on the still air.

'You know I have known Anomen these last four years, m'lady-'

'Oh, please call me Fritha.'

'Fritha, it is then. I remember the first time I met Anomen was in this very courtyard…'

Fritha's giggle rippled across the square and Anomen felt a wave of dread as he imagined the trouble Simon could make for him while the squire had fun playing _Sune's cupbearer_.


	55. Cups and swords

**Disclaimer**: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

** Cups and swords**

Fritha stood watching the warm blond head moving away from her through the swarms of people that usually occupied the bridge, the girl smiling as Simon looked back to send her one last wave before he finally disappeared into the crowds. He was a nice boy, well, young man really, for she was sure he was of her age or at least the equivalent, even if he did not act it. The squire was so full of talk and warm enthusiasm, and at first she could hardly believe it was as he had said, that he had practically grown up within the Order's disciplined halls. But then the conversation had come around to the subject of the campaigns he had served on and he had so reminded her of Anomen and Keldorn that she had almost laughed, the squire holding that same earnest passion when it came to fighting against the wrongs of the world.

Fritha was still smiling when she pushed open the door of the Five Flagons, the tavern quiet and experiencing the usual lull between noon and sundown. A few people were scattered at tables about the room while at the bar, Wynn and Mayen, two of the women from the troupe, were sat side by side enjoying a quiet cup of wine, heads in close as they talked. They were both blonde and tanned and similar enough in looks that Fritha had used to get them mixed up in their first few days at the theatre. Samuel was at his usual place behind the bar, but his attention was not on the women, the halfling instead looking at the scrawny dark-haired boy who had just placed a tray on the counter.

'Right, Samuel, I've been sent fer another pitcher o' ale and two bottles o' wine. They've already got cups from last time though. And 'iggold is asking after you two, Wynn, so I'd not be much- Oh, Lady Patron,' Meck greeted, finally noticing her approach, 'a good day to you, m'lady.'

'Oh, yes, good day Lady Patron,' came Mayen quickly, Wynn sending her a polite nod that made her blond curls bob, trying to discreetly swallow her mouthful of wine.

Fritha smiled. 'Hello Meck. Wynn, Mayen, Samuel.'

'Ah, Lady Patron, a good day indeed,' the landlord greeted, beaming at her, 'I believe I had some friends of yours in here but a few days ago.'

'Oh yes?' prompted Fritha, her curiosity piqued.

'Three young minstrels came a tenday ago asking if I'd a mind to having some music in here of an evening. I gave them a try since they said they came with your recommendations and I am most pleased I did. A shame you missed them, for they raised the roof! I've them booked in for another performance a tenday's hence. They had some friends with them as well, who said they knew you and the young lady Nalia.'

Fritha was suddenly smiling; she knew exactly who Samuel was speaking of as he continued.

'Nice lads, they were: Addrick, Thallen, Olwyn and some sotted lad. Now, what was his name…'

'Cassus?' offered Fritha with a light laugh and she wondered if the poor boy hadn't been quarrelling with his lady again.

'Aye, that was it. They asked after you, of course; I told them you were out of the city at present.' The halfling grinned innocently, 'The lad, Olwyn, seemed _especially_ disappointed…'

Wynn and Mayen began giggling into their sleeves, Meck rolling his eyes at the pair and Fritha laughed, both at their amusement and Meck's disdain.

'Well, I'm sure he'll survive,' she countered dryly.

Wynn glanced to Mayen with a sly smile, the young woman clearly feeling bolder now she was sure Fritha was not going to scold them for sneaking upstairs.

'Well, he clearly doesn't think so, milady; he's been back _twice_ since then.'

Yet more laughter, Fritha joining the two women though it felt distinctly more forced this time, her face burning. Olwyn was a very nice young man from what she could recall of him, but she felt uncomfortable with the idea of him thinking about her or trying to meet her. That night she had met him she had almost been a different person, free from the cares and responsibilities that usually hung upon her. Would he be as keen to meet her again knowing she was a mercenary? That she was currently planning to cross one of the most powerful mage guilds in all of Amn? Fritha doubted it.

'Wynn? Mayen?' called a voice from the stairwell and the both girls jumped in their seats, hastily finishing their drinks before hurrying back downstairs, their absence finally noticed, it seemed. Samuel watched them go, clearing their cups from the bar before bustling off into the backroom for Meck's wine.

Fritha sighed, moving from the bar to take a nearby table and beckoning to the young boy they'd left.

'Come on then, Meck, tell me everything that's been going on; better I hear all the bad news from one sensible source.'

'Well, first off, and I don't suppose it's any o' my business, but I think you should know that Olwyn lad's been back more than just twice. I caught 'im 'anging around the stage door a few days back and 'e offered me a gold piece to come and tell 'im when you'd returned to the theatre.' The young boy straightened proudly in his chair, 'But, I told 'im, I am an employee o' the theatre and as such cannot be chasing around the city on personal errands –though if you would want me to take a message to 'im, m'lady, I'm sure I could easily find-'

'No, no,' Fritha interrupted hastily, 'that will _not _be necessary. So, what else has been happening?'

Meck gave her a grim look.

'Well, I know fer a fact what 'iggold'll want to talk to you about today. 'im and the rest o' them are in a tiss at the moment because there were a run o' accidents in the theatre a tenday or so back- just small stuff, like a can o' paint got split over one o' the new backdrops and Jenna nearly tripped over during rehearsals. Anyways, that old idiot Ketrick started 'arping on about the curse that's _supposed _to be on the play again and instead o' everyone telling 'im to 'shut it' like they do normally, they went and got all twitchy and now they're _all_ dropping things and tripping over and jumping at their own shadows as they whisper about that stupid _curse_.'

Fritha sighed deeply 'Oh _great._ Anything else?'

The boy shook his head.

'Nah, not really, m'lady. Zeran keeps changing 'is lines from the script but 'iggold's just left 'im to it so far. And Iltheia was threatening to walk a few days ago when one of 'er scenes got cut. But I just told 'er that I'd heard 'iggold thinking about letting Mayen 'ave her part because she was causing so much bother.'

'Higgold was really contemplating on letting Iltheia go?' exclaimed Fritha. To say she was surprised was a bit of an understatement, especially when the director seemed to spend so much of his time trying to placate the haughty actress.

Meck gave a bark of impish laughter.

'Nah, I just made it up, but she shut up about threatening to go afterwards -you ain't angry, are you?' he added, suddenly worried. But Fritha just shrugged.

'Not particularly. After all, it worked, didn't it? Half the time I'm just guessing at this too, you know?'

Meck looked rather impressed.

'Yeah, well… 'iggold let's them get away with too much, especially that Iltheia. What they don't understand is that none o' it matters. Who cares whose got the biggest dressing room or the most lines? If the play's no good, you'll kick us all out and then we'll have nowt.'

Fritha smiled and nodded. For all his youth the boy had a sensible head on his shoulders, seemingly a rarity amongst the troupe. He could likely make a sound career as a director himself when he was older.

'Just how old are you anyway Meck; about eight?'

The boy shook his head again.

'Nah, ten winters this Flamerule just past, or so my ma told me. I know I'm small fer my age.'

'Yes, well, I know that feeling,' said Fritha dryly and Meck grinned. 'So, how did you come to work for Higgold?'

'Just fell into it, really. I never knew my da, but from what my ma would say, that were no loss. But she died a couple o' years ago and I've just 'ad to look after meself since. I worked fer a street gang fer a bit. We had digs in some abandoned 'ouse just up from the docks. There were an 'ole row o' them. It used to be some sort o' a factory I think, before it were converted to 'ouses; stank to 'igh 'eaven in the summer, but it were an all right place to kip the night. Our gang, we weren't in to anything too bad, just picking pockets and the like, but I never got into it. I felt guilty taking things that weren't mine. The others'd just laugh it off, said they 'ad coin and deserved it, but I would think about 'ow I'd feel, if I made something o' meself and then someone came and robbed me fer my 'ard-earned coin. I'd be livid.

'When I first met 'iggold I were actually eyeing 'im up as a mark, but 'e saw me looking and called me across to 'im. It were clear 'e were new to the city, 'e said 'e were in a rush fer a meeting and 'e promised me a copper piece if I took 'im to the Five Flagons. I did o' course; who were I to argue with easy coins in the purse? I don't know what made me wait outside fer 'im. Perhaps I figured 'e might need a guide somewhere else. Well, when 'e came out, 'e were all flustered and smiling, 'e saw me there outside and came over, bold as day, and said 'e was to be a director at the theatre beneath the tavern and 'ow would I like to be an 'and there and help 'im run errands and gather together his troupe.'

Fritha smiled; so Higgold might have been stretching the truth a touch when he said his troupe was _newly_formed.

'And I've been 'ere ever since, m'lady,' Meck continued, a hint of pride on his young face, 'I get my board in the theatre and nine coppers a week as wage though 'iggold keeps five o' them to make sure I've something saved. Are you sure you ain't mad with me, m'lady?' he asked again, looking wary, as though worried her enquiries were with an eye to checking his suitability for her service, and Fritha smiled.

'Quite sure. Now go and take those drinks down before they die of thirst and send Higgold up to see me, I've something important to discuss with him.'

xxx

Anomen glanced up as the city bells struck two and the door of the Coronet at last swung open to reveal the one he had been waiting for. Their small group had lingered after Fritha had left with Simon, his friends talking amiably together while he had gone into the temple of Helm to give thanks, and though they had not been in the tavern half an hour, he was relieved to see Fritha returned nonetheless. Truth be told, he was nervous about what Simon could have told the girl in his absence, and Anomen was glad to see that she was at least smiling as she finally joined their table, a cup of wine already in her hand.

'So, my lady,' he began nonchalantly once she was seated, 'what did you and Simon find to talk about on your walk to the bridge?'

Fritha blinked a moment at the unexpected question before-

'Oh, well, you actually.'

Anomen felt his stomach lurch.

'_Me?_'

The girl laughed lightly. 'Well, to start with anyway. We just spoke of how pleased we were for you and then I asked about when Simon hoped to be knighted and he asked about Trademeet and by then we were at the theatre.'

'And how does the Lady Patron?' asked Jaheira with a smile and Fritha shook her head.

'Patron? Ha! It's like I'm their _mother!_' she cried, still smiling as she pretended to scold a child next to her. 'Iltheia! Did you just pull Jenna's hair? Well, don't! And Jenna, _do _stop crying, it wasn't that bad. Marcus, now just leave that alo- leave it!'

'Now you know how I felt when you and Imoen first joined us,' commented the druid dryly.

'Yes,' Fritha agreed, nodding earnestly, 'and what an example we were set. I recall one night in the Nashkel inn, you and Dynaheir-'

'Point taken,' interrupted Jaheira, suddenly very pink, though she laughed along with the rest of them.

'We've just ordered some food,' offered Aerie, still smiling, 'we didn't think you would be back so soon. I can ask the maid to come back though, if you'd like something.'

Fritha shook her head.

'Oh, thank you, but I'm not really hungry to be honest, I'll have something later.'

Across the table, Jaheira sighed audibly.

'I had all that rice for breakfast,' offered Fritha quickly, the woman sending her a stern look.

'Yes, over _six_ hours ago. Oh, do what you will,' the druid sighed when it became clear Fritha was not going to back down, 'you always were stubborn about such things.'

'I'm not stubborn!' Fritha snapped through it was drowned about by Minsc's great booming laugh.

'Ha! It is so. Boo wonders if you remember the voyage back from Balduran's Island?'

'By Silvanus, I _do_!' the druid cried, the stern glare back on Fritha, 'A tenday's worth of sailing and only enough food rations for half that. And you, nearly worrying poor Khalid sick, refusing a bite.'

'You did not eat?' Anomen confirmed, unable to hide the amazement in his voice, Fritha nodding mildly.

'Not for the first few days, no. Oh, don't attribute it to any great nobility on my part,' she assured with a laugh at his no doubt awed expression, before the smile faded slightly, her eyes gaining an distant look, 'I just wasn't hungry… Ah, but on the last day!'

'Ah, yes,' agreed the ranger, giving the girl a fond smile, 'Minsc remembers: Boo on one knee, young Fritha's head resting upon the other and the last of my waybread shared between them.'

Fritha grinned. 'I've dined with Grand Dukes and guildmasters since then, and that was _still _the best meal I've ever had.'

Minsc laughed again, clapping the girl's back as Aerie asked conversationally, 'What were you doing on the island in the first place? I thought you would have been busy trying to stop the Iron Throne.'

Fritha nodded, smiling wryly.

'Yes, but at the time they were ahead by one move and had just framed us for murder. We were laying low just north of Baldur's Gate in a fishing village, Ulgoth's Beard, when we were hired to investigate the wreck of a boat on a small island believed to be Balduran's final resting place.'

Fritha paused to take another sip of wine, Jaheira taking up the story.

'Which it was, but that was not the only thing on the island. We sailed to the place and were shipwrecked ourselves, only to find the island quite inhabited by two tribes of werewolves.'

'Two whole tribes of werewolves?' exclaimed Cernd, 'How interesting… and I assume these were the werewolves that you mentioned during Faldorn's ravings.'

Jaheira nodded.

'Indeed, though we did not know of their true nature at the time. One group had formed a small village while the others lived in the wreck we were supposed to be salvaging from. The leader of the village, Kaishas, told us her people had long wished to leave the island and had built a boat for the purpose, but it could only be launched from the east side of the island where the reef did not stretch… which was unfortunately where the other tribe of werewolves had made their home.'

'Ah, how the Fates to do love to toy with us,' laughed Haer'Dalis. Minsc nodded wisely, straightening in his chair to continue the tale.

'Fritha led us to them and tried to parley though they would not heed her and a great fight broke out. Their leader, Karoug, was slain and the werewolves subdued. We were victorious, but we returned to the village only to find ourselves betrayed! They needed maps as well as a boat to leave the island, maps which we had. We were cursed with lycanthropy tie us to them, but not all were pleased with this course. Kaishas escaped to the boat while the rest of the village hunted us down.'

Anomen drew a sharp breath.

'By Helm, how did you escape?'

'Well…' Minsc trailed off, looking suddenly unsure of himself, the man glancing to Jaheira who glanced in turn to Fritha, the girl finishing another sip of wine with an even shrug.

'We chased after Kaishas, avoiding the other villagers where we could and reached the boat just in time to stop her and leave ourselves. I know it sounds quite simple,' she continued in the silence that followed, her words something of an anti-climax after the drama of the build-up, 'but, at the time, I actually wondered if we would even make it through the night.'

'So that's why you were so frightened of those illusions of werewolves back when Kalah had taken over the circus,' came Aerie with a gasp of realisation, 'I remember you just seemed to freeze.'

Fritha smiled faintly. 'Yes, for a moment I was back on that island and the memories were not pleasant ones.'

'Right, can I clear some room here?' came a voice above them and Anomen turned to see the maid, a large dish of grilled fish balanced on one hand as she used the other to try and make room for it amongst their cups and jugs.

Fritha downed the last of her wine, made her excuses and left.

xxx

Fritha closed her door and paused a moment, leaning back against the wood just enjoying the silence of her empty room. Though she had pretended otherwise, their talk of Balduran's Isle had been hard, memories she usually left forgotten sudden brought to the fore. But perhaps it was for the best, remembrances of the man she had lost there helping her to come to terms with the thing. Fritha sighed deeply, feeling a dull ache just under her ribs. Or perhaps not.

She had ordered a bath along with her drink, though that would not arrive for a while yet and she tried to use the opportunity to catch up on some sleep. But the rest she sought would not come, the stillness about her merely allowing these stirred thoughts a chance to flourish; Durlyle death, Imoen's ongoing absence and other worries haunting her like hungry ghosts. And when she had finally drifted off, she was awoken not much later by a knock at the door, the maid arriving with a small tin tub and towels before disappearing off again with a friendly assurance that she would not be long in returning with her water.

Fritha shut tthe door with a sighed and moved over to her bag, crouching over it to take out fresh clothes before crossing to the mirror to strip. It always surprised her how many layers she was wearing. It shouldn't really since she had put them all on but still… tunic, trousers, shirt, chemise, stockings and shorts, and finally the jade stone Imoen had given her and she was done, stood before the mirror pale and slight and naked, well hidden by the hair that hung about her like a coat. She smiled faintly at herself, quite liking the effect and absently pleased she didn't get the opportunity for such very often; she had an inkling she could become rather vain, given half a chance.

Fritha smiled, fetching up a towel from the bed behind and wrapping it about her twice before turning back to the glass. Real mirrors had been rare in Candlekeep and she had not even had one of her own until Beth had given her the bronze hand mirror she still carried with her now. But the image within that was dull and imperfect and invoked none of the wonder of a looking-glass; of that echoed world just out of reach of her own.

The only real mirror she knew of had been the huge one that stood above the ornate fireplace in the Peer's Library, so high it reflected nothing but the dusty tops of the bookshelves and she still had to climb on a chair to look into it when she was fully grown. Fritha smiled. One of her earliest memories of Candlekeep was of Tethtoril, brown-haired and beardless, holding her up with a small casting mirror to show her the endless tunnel of worlds that sprang from it, all hidden until a mirror was shown another. It was only a short time later she learnt the reality of reflections from Gorion, but learning the science hadn't diminished the mystery of the thing, and Fritha had been fascinated by mirrors ever since.

She turned back to the mirror before her, the room beyond the glass a fascinating replica of the one she stood in. The world seemed so real, so perfect, and she lost herself in the idea that she could somehow climb inside and the girl within could take her place out there for just a few days. She watched the girl now, staring back at her, just as tired, just as weary. Perhaps _she_ was thinking the exact same thing.

_The glass is always greener…_

She allowed herself a half-smile at the joke, before turning away to fetch out the last of her soap and her hairbrush, preparing herself for the inevitable knock at the door. Only, when it came, it was not the maid.

'Oh, my raven, that girl!' came the cry as soon as she'd opened the door, the bard barging past her before she could halt him, 'Just guess what she has done now!'

'_Haer'Dalis!_' Fritha cried in a strangled voice, hands instantly flying to better secure her towel, 'You can't be in here, I'm about to have a bath!'

But Haer'Dalis looked supremely unconcerned by her state of undress, merely exclaiming, '_Another?_I swear there are mermaids that see less water than you do! Are you sure you're not a water genasi?'

'_Positive!_ Now you've got to le- Oh, hells!' she swore as another knock at the door cut her off, Haer'Dalis looking more than amused as she stalked over to open it on three young maids, each holding a huge pitcher of water, steam rising from them in delicate tendrils.

'Your water, m'lady,' came the foremost one politely, a knowing smile passing slyly between the three girls as they noticed the tiefling stood behind her.

'Yes, thank you, just go in,' Fritha smiled tightly, stepping back to allow them past her and sending Haer'Dalis a furious look, her voice little more than a hiss as she ushered him out into the hallway.

'And if _you_ still want to talk, wait for me downstairs.'

The bard grinned. 'As you wish, my raven, enjoy your bath.'

xxx

Anomen stood in the hallway his heart beating heavily in his chest as he stared over at the dark unyielding wood of a door for the second time that day. He was meeting Simon and the others at the Mithrest Inn over in the Promenade at sundown and only one thing remained to be done. Anomen drew a deep breath and strode across to Fritha's door, a hand raised ready to knock, only for him to wheel about at the last moment and begin a nervous pacing. He had been mulling over the thought ever since Simon had given him the idea of inviting his companions along. It all sounded so simple in his head, trivial even; just invite Fritha to come out to a tavern with them. But it was _not _as simple as that in reality.

Yes, he could knock and, yes, he could ask her to join him, but what would she read into it? What did he want her to read into it? And things were _certain _to get out of hand once Simon and the others were brought into the proceedings. Anomen shot the door another determined look, a fist held poised above the wood, before his nerve failed him again and he resumed his pacing, his mind keeping up a constant tirade at his ear.

_Helm's Mercy, just knock, you coward! Just knock on her door and ask her!_

But it wasn't quite as easy as that. Though he wasn't ready to admit it anyone but himself, he liked Fritha, really rather a lot, in fact. And though it was merely an invitation to join him and his friends in quiet drink, it felt like much more and his trepidation was almost palpable.

_Come on, now!_

He turned swiftly and knocked before he could change his mind.

A pause.

Anomen could already feel his face growing hot, his mind going over and over what he was going to say to her, but it seemed he was not to have the chance.

'Oh… hello, Anomen,' came a voice behind him and he turned to see Aerie stood in her doorway, her eyes red-rimmed as though she not long stopped crying, 'are you looking for Fritha? Jaheira said she saw her leaving for the theatre with Haer'Dalis.'

'Oh,' Anomen heard himself say, an unpleasant empty feeling yawning just under his ribs; not only was she out, she was out with the _tiefling_. 'Oh, I see.'

He knew he should offer some explanation to the elf, but he couldn't quite mange it. 'Thank you Aerie,' he muttered, only propriety preventing him from immediately turning on his heel and trudging dejectedly off down the stairs, 'And you are, ah, well?'

The girl gave him a watery smile. 'Don't worry, Anomen, you don't have to pretend you haven't noticed. Haer'Dalis and I have had another quarrel. I don't even know what it was about now; we just can't see to help it at the moment.'

Anomen smiled weakly through his discomfort, such talk of emotions never resting well with him.

'I am sure that it will pass; I hear tell that most couples suffer similar trials.'

'Do you think so?' she wondered aloud, her blue eyes gaining a rather absent look, 'I… I am not as sure, Anomen. I can't describe it. I love Haer'Dalis, but it- it feels like something is wrong. I try to ask about it but he says he does not sense the same. That I am looking for problems… perhaps I am…'

She trailed off, glancing up and seemingly surprised to find him there, the girl looking uncomfortable. 'I am sorry, Anomen, I am keeping you.'

'Not at all,' he answered kindly. That his grand plans for the evening were now all for naught was a shame, but for all his disappointment, perhaps he could use the misfortune to try and cheer the elf. 'I am actually going out drinking tonight with some friends,' he continued, smiling again and this time more strongly, 'a celebration of my knighthood as it were. Simon has arranged it –I almost dread to think _what_ he has planned, though you are welcome to join us if you wish.'

Aerie smiled gently, laying a hand on his arm as she shook her head.

'Oh, Anomen, that is kind of you, but I think I shall just take some dinner and retire early.'

Anomen nodded once, rather glad to see her looking at least a little happier.

'As you would have it, my lady. A good evening to you.'

xxx

Fritha and Haer'Dalis dropped in briefly at the theatre if only not to make liars of them, before heading to the docks where they began at one end of the quays and steadily worked their way along the taverns that lined the winding streets. It was dark outside, and though Fritha couldn't have made a guess at the hour, it felt late. Her lack of sleep the night before had finally caught up with her; the initial vigour she had felt when she'd started drinking had definitely worn off by now and her mind felt dull and heavy. They were in the Waterdeep Packet again and Fritha recalled with a painful clarity the evening she had spent there with Nalia and the boys, dancing and laughing, though there was no music there tonight, the tavern quiet save for the low murmur of drinking patrons.

'Here we are, my raven,' came a voice at her sleeve, Haer'Dalis arriving back from the bar with two cups of dark red wine, 'I thought we could go dancing after this.'

'Dancing? Oh, no Haer'Dalis, I'm tired.'

'Then dancing is just what you need to wake you up. Come now, my raven,' he teased, playfully tugging her sleeve, 'I never consider my evening complete until I have tripped a reel with a pretty bird.'

'Oh, bugger off,' she huffed, fighting against a smile. But the bard just laughed. He knew he had won her over; they would go dancing.

Fritha sighed, listlessly raising her cup to take a sip.

'So what were you and Aerie fighting about earlier anyway?'

Haer'Dalis sighed too.

'Oh, everything and nothing. She accused me of being in a mood since I hadn't gone to the theatre with you.'

'And were you?' asked Fritha with a shrewd frown. Haer'Dalis shrugged.

'Not intentionally. So, she asked if I had wanted to go to the theatre and I told her it was so.'

Fritha nearly choked on her wine.

'You said _yes_?'

'Well, I _did_ wish to go with you,' he reasoned indignantly, 'I _had_ hoped she would focus instead upon the sacrifice I made to please her by returning with her to the inn.'

Fritha frowned, shaking her head as she took another drink.

'I don't think girls much like thinking that time spent with them is some sort of sacrifice.'

'Well, it most certainly _is_ when the girl in question is huffing and sighing about your room!'

'Haer'Dalis,' Fritha scolded tiredly, 'she probably just wanted to spend some time alone with you now we were back in the city. It must have hurt when it became apparent you wanted to be elsewhere.'

Haer'Dalis nodded, looking grim.

'Perhaps so, but where are we now? Both on other sides of the city and with further than that between our hearts.'

Fritha didn't really have an answer for that and the pair continued their drinking in silence, the girl letting her mind wander. Simon had mentioned something about taking Anomen somewhere that night to celebrate and Fritha wondered whether they were having a more cheerful evening than she was. It was pretty likely.

'I wonder what everyone is doing now,' sighed Fritha after a moment just to break the silence and she was not really expecting an answer, though Haer'Dalis had one for her anyway.

'Well, Cernd and Aerie will be telling each other how amazing _Nature_ is -and the knight will be telling everyone how amazing _he_ is.'

'Haer'Dalis,' she reproached with a sigh, 'just because you're in a sour mood. I happen to know for a fact that Cernd has no intentions of that sort towards your dove and as for Anomen, he has worked hard to join the Order; just because it is not something either of us would want, doesn't make it any less of an achievement. I don't know why you dislike him so.'

'Why? He is opposed to everything I am, all that I stand for and believe.'

'And he likely thinks the same of you.'

Haer'Dalis laughed. 'I do not doubt it. But what do you think of him?'

'What do I think? Well, I think he's a good sort… he can even be a laugh on those occasions he dismounts from his high horse and deigns to walk with the rest of us. He has been calmer lately too; I think he will find life a lot easier now he no longer feels compelled to prove himself.'

'I had no idea you thought him such a _catch_,' muttered Haer'Dalis rather sourly but Fritha just laughed.

'Well, he has better prospects than us two! He will find himself a fair and dutiful wife, and he will travel around Amn, fighting what needs to be fought and she will stay at home, bearing him valiant sons and accomplished daughters and they will both consider it a life well-lived!' She laughed again, taking a mouthful to add, 'and I can't say I blame either of them.'

Haer'Dalis shrugged, seemingly mollified. 'And what will you do?'

'When we've rescued Imoen? I'm going to travel. This plane, others. There's a lot of world out there and I have every intention of experiencing as much of it as I can.'

Haer'Dalis sighed deeply, his look wistful in the lamplight.

'Oh, why could I not have seen you then as I do now?'

Fritha shook her head; they were getting into dangerous territory…

'Oh, it's that time of the evening, is it? Where we mull over regrets of the past? We'd have made an awful couple and you know it.'

Even as the words left her mouth, she was not sure she really believed them, but there was no point in dredging all that up again, all that uncertainty and raw feelings; the past should stay past.

'We are too similar,' she continued with conviction and a friendly smile, 'if we had formed an alliance back then, we'd have got bored of each other, it would have fizzled out by now and I would be sat here giving you advice on how to win Aerie.'

They both laughed at that, Haer'Dalis nodding slightly as he took a drink and though Fritha couldn't tell whether or not he agreed with her, perhaps it was more important he knew what _she_ thought about the matter. The bard was still smiling in that faintly wistful way, his eyes travelling unfocused on the tavern about them before coming to rest on her and she felt a pang of loneliness, suddenly desperate to know that the decision to let him go she'd made so long ago hadn't all been in vain. That he was happy; that he didn't _truly_ regret how things had turned out.

'Do you love her, Haer'Dalis?'

He nodded slowly, his voice unusually quiet as his gaze dropped to the pitted tabletop.

'Aye, my raven, more than the telling of it, though I try each day…'

Fritha sank her head into her hands, almost despairing, wanting more than anything to just know how to fix it for him.

'What could have gone so wrong? I can't believe it is just all these silly things you keep squabbling about. Would you like me to talk to her? I can probably convince her to tell me.'

But Haer'Dalis just shook his head.

'No, no, I will try to speak with her again on the morrow –for all the good it will do.'

Fritha sighed deeply and drained her cup.

''Nother round?'

Haer'Dalis finished his drink in one draft, setting it back on the table before him with a dull nod.

'Aye.'

xxx

Anomen weaved his way through the tables in the empty common room, only the most stalwart of patrons still there at that hour. Despite the disappointing start, he had rather enjoyed his evening, he and his friends visiting a few of the taverns in the Promenade to make merry and celebrate his success, before they had all called it a night, the men returning to their quarters at the Order while he walked the dark streets of the slums back to the Coronet.

Anomen had reached the stairs by now, the climb feeling much steeper than it did usually and he was more than looking forward to reaching his bed when he heard a noise on the landing above him. He stopped, suddenly tense as he listened to the furtive whispering, when a familiar giggle rippled down the staircase and Anomen felt himself smile. He walked slowly up the last few steps into the corridor with already an idea of the scene that would greet him, Haer'Dalis and Fritha stood in the gloom, both clearly well into their cups, laughing quietly and telling each other to 'shush' as they tried to steal back into their rooms.

'That may work better if you have the key the right way up, my lady.'

'Anomen!' cried Fritha happily, whirling to his voice, the girl instantly dissolving into whispery laughter as Haer'Dalis hushed at her, the man clearly wanting to get into his room, which was unfortunately next to Aerie's, without waking the elf.

'What are you doing still up?' Fritha continued quietly, 'I'm sure it is _well _past your bedtime.'

Anomen's smile broadened, feeling oddly warmed by her teasing.

'I was out with my friends, my lady. We went to a few taverns in the Promenade.'

Haer'Dalis had finally managed to open his door by now and was sidling through the gap with exaggerated movements, glancing back to offer the girl a parting smile.

'Goodnight, my raven.'

'Aye, night,' she sighed in reply, looking, for a moment, sober in her melancholy before the giddy smile was back and she was returning her attention to him. 'So, how are your friends, Anomen, oh, and the _lovely _Simon? He mentioned earlier he was planning a celebration for you. Did you enjoy your evening?'

Anomen smiled wryly.

'Apparently not as much as you have been.'

But Fritha just laughed.

'Ah, same old Anomen; please feel free to scold away, I doubt I shall remember in the morning.'

'Then I shall save my admonishments until then and settle for telling you of my evening as requested.'

He gestured back along the corridor towards the staircase and Fritha smiled, the pair moving to sit on the topmost step where their talk wouldn't disturb the sleeping guests.

'So how was your evening?' asked Fritha again once they had settled.

'Very enjoyable. We began at the Mithrest, and then moved on to the Golden Scales, and ended our evening in the Goose and Grain.'

'Oh, the Goose,' Fritha exclaimed, beaming, and he suspected she knew the place, 'they usually have quite good musicians in there. Did you dance?'

'Regrettably, no; I had no partner.' He smiled, his stomach tightening as he continued mildly, 'So you and Haer'Dalis went to the theatre.'

Fritha nodded. 'Yes, at first. Then we went to a tavern,' she added rather unnecessarily, 'And then another and another and another. Then we went dancing. Haer'Dalis wanted a sympathetic ear –though he had to make do with a _paralytic_ one by the end of the evening. Poor man; still I think the singing cheered him up if nothing else. If you can't _solve _your problems, wailing about them to a jaunty tune is surely the next best thing.'

'You were singing?'

'But, of course!' she confirmed proudly, 'All the way back from the docks, in fact. The drunken maudlin song is a grand tradition! The preferred topic is, of course, a lost or unrequited love, but ones about heroes that died bravely can also work well.'

Anomen smiled, watching as Fritha closed her eyes and leant her head against the wall.

'I would very much like to hear one.'

'I bet you wouldn't once I'd stared,' she answered with a snort of laughter, not even opening her eyes, 'but either way, I can't now. You can only sing them as you make your way home. That's the rule.'

'Then next time perhaps,' he pressed, trying to get back a glimmer of the cheerful girl he had first discovered there in the hall, but Fritha just sighed.

'As you will,' she murmured, shifting slightly as she tried to get more comfortable against the cool wall. Anomen watched her fidget a moment, before finally asking the question that had been hanging over him for days now.

'Fritha, this may seem an odd thing to ask but… but, are you happy? Not just now, you understand, but in your life… as a whole.'

She opened her eyes and he watched her considering the question, the shadow of it flickering behind her eyes before she shrugged indifferently.

'After a fashion.'

She sighed, shaking her head as though to wake herself up and rising unsteadily. 'Well, I'd best get to bed before I pass out here on the landing. Goodnight, Anomen.'

Anomen swallowed and nodded once.

'Goodnight, my lady.'

And he watched as she moved swiftly to her door and unlocked it, her hand pausing on the handle as she turned back to him.

'And I know I've said this before, but congratulations, Anomen; we're all really pleased for you.'

Anomen said nothing, he couldn't quite find the words and in the end she just smiled and opened her door, 'Well, night.'

Anomen watched her disappear before turning back, the stairs stretching down into the gloom before him, the bottom few illuminated by the faint glow from the tavern beneath. An awful weight seemed to be pressing on him and he leaned against the wall as she had, staring unseeing into the darkness. He would have never before even _risked_ being caught sat about in the hallway so improperly, but his view of the world and the rules which governed him had momentarily been forgotten. Because he understood what 'after a fashion' meant.

It meant 'no'.


	56. Thicker than water

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

**Thicker than water **

Anomen filled the basin before him and stooped to splash the cold water across his face. The night had been a restless one, his dreams haunted by a young woman who seemed to be Fritha and his sister by turns, though in each case she was distressed with a misery he could do nothing to alleviate and he had awoken late, feeling dull and at odds with himself.

Outside, the morning looked bright and clear, the slums already awake, and the street under his window was full of bustle. He watched the people a moment, feeling somehow distant from it all. Yesterday, all his hopes had at last come to pass and yet not in any way he had once imagined they would. He thought he would feel different now the Order had accepted him as a knight, but he did not. He was very happy, of course; how could he not be when he had finally achieved something he had been working towards almost his whole life. But, for all that, he still felt the same in himself. Perhaps that was what Fritha had been driving at all along; whether knight or squire, he was still the same man.

Fritha… She had helped him so much in the time they had travelled together and it pained him now to know she was going through some similarly distressing trial alone. Anomen sighed. She had always seemed fine on the surface, but lately he had been allowed glimpses of a deeper melancholy that lingered just behind the smile and he wondered how long she had been so troubled. Perhaps from even their very first meeting. The thought was not a pleasant one.

He turned away from the window, drawing his attention back to the dresser to gaze a moment at the small mirror above it, his reflection showing none of the tiredness he felt. Though not in any way hungover, he certainly wasn't feeling his best, and considering the state she had returned in last night, he imagined Fritha would be suffering much worse. He dropped his gaze to where his pack rested by the door, staring contemplatively at it a moment, before he hauled it onto the dresser and was taking out various herbs and powders to quickly prepare her something for the pain.

Out in the hallway, he faced almost the same hesitance as he had the previous evening, though Anomen made himself knock, her voice quiet but audible on the other side of the door.

'Come in.'

Fritha was already up and dressed, the girl sat at her dresser, a large jug and cup which he suspected were full of water next to her as she very slowly pulled a comb through her hair as though every movement was agony.

'Ah, hello Anomen.'

'Good morning, my lady, how are you feeling?'

She offered him a tight smile.

'Not too clever. You?'

'Fine. I drank quite a bit of water before I slept.'

'Gods, I wish I had,' she sighed with feeling, laying down her comb to sink her head into her hands. Anomen swallowed, the paper smooth under his fingers as he placed the thin envelope on the dresser next to her.

'Yes, I thought you might be feeling a little off colour this morning… I, ah, prepared you this, my lady. Take it with water, it should help.

Fritha stared down at the small square of parchment looking close to tears in her relief.

'Oh Anomen, I could kiss you -though my breath would likely leave you reeling.'

He would have liked to have said he did not mind, but the words stuck in his throat. Fritha turned to him with a weak smile, raising her cup high in salute.

'To your health and mine!'

She emptied the powder straight onto her tongue and downed the water in one long draft, her smile lingering as she turned back to the mirror.

'So, is this kindness a sly opening to my promised admonishments then?'

'Admonishments?' he repeated before recalling her teasing the previous night. He smiled. 'Well, I fear it would be a touch hypocritical of me to comment, since I actually arrived back here at about the same hour you did.'

He watched her as she laughed.

'Goodness, a knighthood and it's as though you are a whole new person.'

He smiled at that, taking a seat on the bed behind her to wait for her to finish dressing her hair, the girl leaning back slightly to gather it up and twisting it into a rope that she coiled at her crown just as he had seen his sister do many times before her, before she took up her two wooden pins from the dresser to secure it in place. He watched as she tried to tidy the shorter curls at her temples, frowning at her reflection and clearly not very pleased with what she saw, before she finally seemed to give it up as a lost cause and turned to catch him looking.

'Is something the matter?'

'No, nothing, my lady. Merely that, for a moment, you reminded me of my sister.'

Fritha sent him an understanding smile. 'You must still think of her a lot.'

Anomen swallowed, the pain of the loss still keen even after so long.

'Yes, it can be… hard. I try to remember Moira as she was, celebrate the life she had, but I cannot help but think on the person she could have grown to be, all those experiences which are now denied to her. I wish you could have met her, my lady, I am sure she would have liked you.'

Fritha's smile broadened. 'I'm sure I would have liked her too.'

Anomen nodded slowly.

'It is especially difficult for my dwelling upon the idea that had I known there was a problem, I could have perhaps been able to prevent it…' He sent her a searching look. 'Fritha, if there is ever anything you would wish to talk about then- then I would hope you know that I am always at hand.'

Fritha was frowning, a disheartening mix of bemused and uncomfortable.

'Ah, well, thank you, Anomen. Come,' she sighed at last, making to stand, 'I supposed we should face the day.'

She pushed back her chair and stood, perhaps a touch too quickly, the girl drawing in a sharp breath and cradling her head as she winced, blinking furiously through the pain.

'Oh, I am _never_ drinking again. Anomen, how long before this draft kicks in?'

He smiled slightly, both sad and happy in the same instance.

'Not long, my lady.'

xxx

The common room was busy enough to remind Jaheira why she usually had her breakfast much earlier, the air filled with the low rumble of voices and the clatter of cutlery as the patrons took their first meal of the day and the clamorous noise of _civilisation_ grated on her. She had her long overdue meeting with Galvarey to face that morning and it was something she was not looking forward too, though at least the morning had afforded one fortunate event so far, the druid finding herself alone at their table, allowing her to enjoy her first cup of tea in solitude and find her centre as she waited for the others.

Not that she was particularly surprised by this occurrence; she knew for a fact at least three of their company had not returned before midnight. Speaking of which-

'Good morning, my ptarmigan,' came a voice at her elbow, the woman glancing up to see Haer'Dalis looking brighter than she would have expected.

'Good morning, I did not expect to see you for a while, considering you and Fritha were out carousing until the early hours.'

Haer'Dalis looked surprised. 'You have spoken with the raven already?'

'No, but I had not long retired myself last night; I heard you and Fritha laughing in the hallway.'

Haer'Dalis heaved a sigh as he took the chair next to her.

'And you were not the only one.'

Jaheira raised an eyebrow.

'Let me guess, I suppose Aerie heard your return as well, did she?'

The tiefling nodded, smiling grimly.

'Oh, yes. I imagine she will be speaking to me again by mid-winter.'

Jaheira snorted, amused by his honesty.

'Love ever was a fool's game,' she sighed, smiling as Fritha appeared on the stairs, the knight close behind her. 'Ah, and here are two more I did not expect to see before noon.'

The bard glanced up as well.

'So it is, _and_ I'll wager you a gold piece that Anomen is wearing that new blade of his again this day!'

Jaheira smiled wryly as they came into a clearer view, Anomen's ceremonial sword conspicuous only in its absence.

'It would seem you are out of luck, bard.'

'That's just because it is still under his pillow where he slept the night with it,' the bard muttered sullenly, reaching for his purse.

Jaheira tried not to laugh, though she did not do very well, the woman snorting into her tea, Haer'Dalis sending her a shining smile as he called out to them.

'Good morning, my raven, and the newly knighted hound too.'

'Morning,' Fritha greeted as she reached the table, the girl sending the bard a frown, 'Bloody hells, Haer'Dalis, you look a bit sprightly. If I could have guessed at anyone who would feel worse than me this morning, it would have been you.'

Haer'Dalis shrugged unconcernedly. 'Oh, I am not one who suffers from the after-effects of such vinous revels.'

Fritha looked highly put out by this injustice.

'You jammy git! You could have mentioned that before you were encouraging us to drown ourselves in juniper spirits. And look at that!' she cried, pushing up her sleeve to show them a couple of dark purple bruises staining her forearm, 'I'm covered in them. What the bloody hells were we doing last night?'

'Nothing that should have caused those -though if you are pained I'm sure I can do something to help,' he added with a roguish grin that soon faded as Aerie arrived at the table with Minsc.

Fritha sent him a wry smile as the pair took their chairs, Aerie taking the seat as far from Haer'Dalis as space would allow.

'Morning Aerie, morning Minsc, and thank you for the offer Haer'Dalis, but you're quite all right; Anomen arrived with a draft this morning.'

'Did he indeed?' confirmed Jaheira, sending him a shrewd look and Anomen became suddenly very interested in serving himself some tea. 'So, do you two even remember getting back last night?' continued the druid with a smile. Fritha nodded.

'Of course! Well, bits anyway. Nearly tripping on the stairs, Haer'Dalis thinking he'd lost his key, talking to Anomen about singing…' she turned to the knight, suddenly alarmed, 'Gods, I didn't give you a rendition in the hallway did I?'

Anomen smiled wryly. 'Sadly, no, my lady, you said it was against the rules.'

'Thank Milil for that!' she exclaimed over their laughter, glancing up as the last of their group arrived, 'Ah, Cernd, finally someone who looks worse than I do. Did you have trouble sleeping?'

The druid nodded, his weathered face looking even more worn than usual as he sank stiffly into the remaining empty chair.

'I had forgotten how loud the city is even after the sun sets. Even the birds know when to take their rest and keep their silence.'

'And I thought you liked birdsong,' quipped Haer'Dalis coolly.

'That I do, though the caterwauling of drunks leaves much to be desired. You know there were two, it must have been well past midnight, walking along the street out there just under my window singing _I saw my Lady Weeping_ at the top of their voices.'

'Really? How very inconsiderate,' tutted Haer'Dalis, sending Fritha sly look, the girl hiding her laughter in her teacup. 'So what are our plans for the day, my raven?'

'You have to ask?' she laughed, before adding for the benefit of the newcomer, 'We will, of course, be looking for work. Now, I have to go to the Promenade this morning, so I'll ask about there after I've taken the next instalment over to Gaelen. Perhaps, you could go ask about the temples, Anomen.'

'Well, actually, my lady, there is something I need from the Promenade as well.'

Fritha looked momentarily surprised, but smiled and nodded all the same.

'Oh, as you will; Aerie, can you go in his stead?'

'Of course,' she nodded politely, her manner still slightly stiff. Fritha turned immediately to Jaheira.

'Good, and perhaps you could go with Cernd to look at the bounties over in the Council Buildings?'

Jaheira felt her stomach tighten, the woman finishing her sip of tea before venturing, 'Actually, I have my own lines of work to investigate this morning.'

Fritha sighed slightly. 'Fine, fine. Gods, it's like herding cats. Look, you lot just sort yourselves out then.'

And so they did, the rest of them agreeing to ask about the temples together to Fritha's slight displeasure, though with Cernd not knowing the city and Aerie and Haer'Dalis still not speaking, she had to admit it would have been difficult to make a smaller group. And after their meal, the group parted ways, Minsc leading the majority of them south west, while Fritha set off through the slums to Gaelen's house with Anomen, Jaheira leaving in the opposite direction, heading towards the docks alone.

xxx

Haer'Dalis was lent back against the low wall, his gaze fixed on the brilliant streaks of lightning that were ricocheting about the spherical metal cages outside the temple of Talos. They had not long arrived in the temple district and had just been passing the temple to Lathander when one of the young acolytes on guard outside had recognised Minsc from when the ranger had help them with their new shrine earlier in the autumn and the two were still talking earnestly together like friends of old. Aerie did not begrudge him the meeting though and from the way the conversation was going, it would likely end in some work for them. The elf turned from where she was stood with Cernd, waiting for them to finish to let her attention drift back to the tiefling.

It was so confusing. She and Haer'Dalis had fought so much recently and yet it was as though she was all the more drawn to him for it, even when he seemed to go out of his way to annoy her. That he had wanted to go to the theatre instead of spending some long overdue time with her had hurt and even as they had argued in her room not long afterwards she could not tell whether the tiefling truly was sulking with her or that it was merely a fabrication of her own displeasure; the elf subconsciously hoping for another argument in which to vent her anger at the perceived rejection.

But wherever the argument had come from, the results were all too plain, the bard immediately leaving for the company of _his raven _and not returning until the early hours. Aerie frowned, feeling something inside her twist as she recalled the pair the night before, whispering and giggling as they had tried to steal back to their rooms together. She was not jealous _exactly_, but it _was _hard to watch them getting along so well when she and Haer'Dalis could not seem to go a day at the moment without arguing.

He had tried to come and speak with her that morning, but she had still been feeling bitter and ill humoured after a night lain awake and by his manner now, it did not look as though he was concerned about them making peace anytime soon. And infuriatingly enough, the idea just seemed to make her want to talk to him _more_. She watched him, sat mildly watching the lightning without a care, and before she had realised it she had begun to walk over to him, still not sure yet whether she was looking for a reconciliation or another fightl.

The tiefling glanced up at her approaching, sending her a sincere smile.

'Ah, hello, my dove.'

'Hello,' she answered stiffly, following his gaze to the cages merely so she did not have to look him. 'So,' she began coolly after a long contemplative pause, 'how was your evening last night?'

Haer'Dalis shrugged nonchalantly; if he had noticed her tone he was ignoring it.

'Oh, it went well enough, though I must say now, I do sympathise with the raven about that playhouse of hers. Higgold fusses like an old hen about every little thing and the _cast_ –I am sure we, the Sigil Troupe, were never so petty when it came to our art.'

Aerie did not quite know how to reply to that, instead maintaining her cool tone to offer, 'I think Minsc may have found us some work.'

'Ah, that _is_ good news.'

She glanced to him, his relief unexpected. 'You sound pleased.'

He nodded fervently.

'Indeed, for I _had_ worried that Fritha's desperation to raise funds and her dislike of the actors would have combined in some dangerous venture.'

Aerie frowned, curious in spite of herself. 'How so?'

'Well, when we were there last night, she was threatening to sack the entire cast and have our group take over the roles.'

Aerie snorted with laughter, fighting against a smile even as she shot him a reproachful look.

'Don't- don't make me laugh, I'm not ready to forgive you yet.'

He smiled, edging closer to her. 'Oh, I see. Well, I shall wait then, until your heart is feeling softer.'

She giggled again, sighing as she leant back against the wall as well to lay her head against his shoulder.

'Oh, why can't we just get along as we used to?'

'Come now, sweet Aerie,' Haer'Dalis smiled, putting an arm about her, 'do not let a few quarrels distress you so. Other pairings have weathered worse and were better for it afterwards.'

'Yes, I suppose,' she sighed, ignoring the thought that the source of those quarrels, his perverse beliefs and reticence, still remained.

'And as for my behaviour in all this,' he continued blithely, 'I swore to myself last night, that however cross you get with me from now on, I am going to show you naught by my unchanging regard in return. No more shall I lose my temper,' he paused to send her a sly look, 'for, indeed, at least one of us should learn how to keep it.'

Aerie hit his arm lightly as she laughed, the pair glancing up as they heard someone calling to them to see Minsc himself stood in the doorway of the temple beckoning them across.

'Ah, they must have reached a decision,' said Aerie, straightening to tug at Haer'Dalis's sleeve, 'come on.'

'You lead and I will follow, my dove.'

xxx

Jaheira sat on the low bench, the room about her empty barring one other man sat alone as she was, and a man and a women in the far corner, the quiet talk of the pair echoing about the high marble ceiling. She was at the Harper hold, sat in the small common room of tables and chairs all in Galvarey's overly opulent style where those who wished to meet with the man himself or other contacts could wait in comfort. She was doing neither though; her meeting with Galvarey had ended a quarter hour ago and leaving in her a deep unrest that only one man could alleviate.

'Dermin,' she greeted in almost a bark, standing as the man finally entered the room. He started at the sound of her voice, glancing about him and smiling as his eyes found her.

'Jaheira, my dear, I had thought you would be here today. How went your journey to Trademeet? Were the druids there truly the source of the trouble? I know you were worried you could find yourself torn by a conflict of interests.'

'All has been resolved now,' she answered, dropping her voice to add,' Dermin, I would speak with you, somewhere private.'

The smile flickered a moment and his nod was almost imperceptible.

'All resolved you say,' he continued audibly, 'and satisfactorily too, I hope. Come, let us to a tavern and I can trade a cup of wine for a tale of your success.'

The closest tavern was the Sea's Bounty, a dingy cramped place whose rowdy patronage of sailors and courtesans provided a good cover for those who wished to be overlooked. Jaheira leaned across the small table, her hand clenched tightly about the chipped cup of wine Dermin had just poured her.

'I just had my meeting with Galvarey. He said the issue has been dropped; the seniors are simply no longer interested in Fritha.'

Dermin raised a greying eyebrow.

'Well, that is what we were hoping for, was it not?'

'Yes,' Jaheira hissed, dropping her voice even lower to the point where she could barely hear herself over the raucous din of the tavern about them, 'but the girl is one of the Children and suddenly they don't care -just like _that_?' She shook her head, leaning back in her chair. 'It is too sudden, Dermin, I don't trust it.'

Dermin sighed, sending her a contemplative frown before finally leaning forward as she had.

'Look, I probably shouldn't be saying anything, for indeed no one is sure of just _what_ is going on, but this new group of Khelben's, well it looks as though they might have been trying to infiltrate back into the Harper ranks to get key information on numbers and safe-houses.'

'Truly?' she gasped, hardly able to believe the old mage would attempt something so underhand, 'But why?'

Dermin shrugged darkly.

'Who knows? But it's got the seniors looking over their shoulders. To be honest with you, I'm not surprised they've forgotten about your friend with all that to occupy them.' He sent her a searching look. 'You're relieved aren't you?'

Jaheira nodded gravely. 'I cannot deny it, Dermin, I am.'

'I know you don't trust Galvarey, but he's just following orders, as are we all.'

'Yes, and how many atrocities have been excused under the same defence?' she snapped promptly, his look of surprise instantly invoking her regret. 'Forgive me, I did not mean to imply-'

But Dermin just waved her words away with an sympathetic smile.

'No, no, you were just worried for your friend, I understand. Well, now your fears have been abated,' he continued genially, moving to top up her cup, 'tell me about these druids, then.'

Jaheira smiled; it was just like old times and it warmed her.

xxx

Fritha moved deftly through the bustle of the marketplace, her newly purchased boots under her arm. She and Anomen had split up as soon as they'd arrived at the Promenade, the fact that _he_ had suggested it something which had both surprised and pleased her. Not that she disliked the man's company, but Fritha rather enjoyed going about the market alone, always walking the same route about the myriad of stalls, the solitude allowing her a pleasant hour or so where she could blend into the crowds and pretend she was just like everyone else.

She always started at the thickset merchant's stall in the west of the market, where she would stock up on any supplies she needed before taking the time to enquire after his family and ask if he'd heard of any work within the traders' circles. And from there, she would just wander up and down the stalls of cloth and trinkets and books, looking at the treasures she would buy if she had the money and imagining the dresses she would make had she anywhere to wear them. And, at last, she would find herself before the huge fresh fish stall in the south east of the arena, not for any of the produce, but to enjoy a moment looking at the beautiful Kara-Turan boy who worked there, his eyebrows as fine as moths' antennae on his smooth sallow face.

He had not been there today, but Fritha had not minded, her new purchase the source of much more pleasure than any boy could afford, however pretty. She stroked a hand along the smooth dark brown leather. She would have usually just bought some second-hand boots, but delivering their payment from Trademeet to Gaelen's that morning and realising they had almost collected half the twenty thousand fee, had been heartening. And with winter fast approaching, Fritha felt it would not be unreasonable to pay a little more for some new ones and she was more than pleased she had.

She smiled, pulling her attention from them to gaze across at the western archway where Anomen was waiting atop the steps in the shadow of one of the great stone lions. He had yet to notice her approach and she used the moment to observe him unseen. He carried himself differently now, his usual defiance of the world replaced by a quiet confidence; becoming a knight conferring on him a lot more than just a title, it seemed.

He had been acting strangely that morning, not that she was not grateful when he had arrived at her room with the draft for her hangover, but what he had said afterwards… She could not recall saying anything so terrible to him the night before that he should feel he needed to offer himself as a confident and she found the whole thing a touch embarrassing, as though she had done something shameful that she could not remember. Fritha shook herself as she reached the foot of the steps. Whatever it was, it was done now; she would just have to grin and wait it out.

'Hey, Anomen!'

Anomen glanced up at the sound of his name, Fritha tripping lightly up the steps below him and his hand closed instinctively about the packet he held, small but somehow heavier than perhaps he would have expected considering what it was. The merchant had tried to dissuade him at first, had tried to offer him ones of a more flora scent when he had realised it was to be for a woman, but the knight had remained firm.

'Hello, Anomen, have you been waiting long?'

'No, not at all, my lady. Did you get everything you needed?'

Fritha shrugged. 'Yes, pretty much, though no one I asked has any suitable work for us. Did you find any?'

'I fear not.'

'Oh, well, perhaps the others will have had better luck. Do you mind if I just change my boots? I had to buy some new ones; this pair have been leaking since Trademeet.'

She gave a laugh that he could not share. It was disheartening to realise the extent of the troubles she just never saw fit to mention to him. She had already jumped up to sit on the plinth next to them, pulling off her old wayworn boots and setting them neatly beside her, before drawing on her new ones with a slow reverence. They were long and narrow, a row of close-set eyelets running from halfway up the back and they would have easily laced up over her knees, providing ample protection for her legs, though it seemed Fritha had other ideas. He watched as she laced the first loosely to about halfway up her leg before folding over the excess leather to give the boot a slack, almost careless look. She beamed at the effect, bending closer to tuck away the trailing laces and Anomen finally took the moment to speak.

'Fritha, I, ah, I have something for you. You have helped me much over this last tenday or so, and I know that you like to take care of your appearance, even when out of the city -not that I think about you washing or such,' he added hastily, feeling himself going red as Fritha continued to stare at him with bemused frown. 'Well, I saw you had almost run out, so, ah, here.'

He handed her the small, plainly wrapped packet, the girl still frowning as she straightened to slowly untie the string and part the paper, before-

'Oh, it's soap,' Fritha laughed, smiling at him now and looking almost relieved. 'Thank you, Anomen. You didn't have to though.'

'No, but I merely wished to show you that however poorly I express it, I am grateful to you. I do not think I would have passed my test without your guidance.'

She laughed again.

'I doubt that, Anomen, but thank you for my present.' She brought the smooth yellow disk to her face and inhaled deeply, 'Mmm, oranges and… cinnamon?'

'Yes, it reminded me of mid-winter,' he confessed, hoping she would hear this echo of their meeting at the riverside when they had taken sherry together so many days ago, but she just smiled and nodded and he could not tell if she recalled it or not. She wrapped the soap carefully back in its paper though, placing it in her bag before going back to her laces, the girl fussing over her other boot before she finally seemed satisfied.

'Right,' she announced, scooping up her old boots and dropping lightly from the plinth, 'I suppose we should get back to the others.'

Together they made the way back to the slums, the streets even busier now high sun was drawing closer, the pair coming upon the inn just as Jaheira appeared at the end of the street, the druid uncharacteristically light-hearted as she called out to them over the bustle.

'There she is, cutting a dash in her new boots! Really Fritha,' she scolded with a much more familiar frown as she reached them, 'do them up properly; you'll break your neck.'

'I like them this way. I'll lace them properly when we're out travelling, but in city they're staying like this.'

Jaheira's frown remained, the woman clearly undeterred, though another voice forestalled any retort she could have made.

'Ah, we are the last to return, my birds.'

The three turned as one to see the others approaching from the opposite end of the street, Haer'Dalis continuing contemplatively as he arrived, 'And the raven is newly shod, I see. Very, now what is the word I am search for… piratical!' he announced decisively after a pause, 'Yes, I could see you standing in the prow of a spelljammer, ready to take havoc to the Outer Planes!'

'I think he means to say your new boots are very nice, Fritha,' added Aerie with a fond smile to the tiefling. Fritha laughed.

'Well, thank you. So, did you have any joy with the temples?'

'As luck would have it, yes, my raven, but I will let Minsc tell you the tale, for it was by his own well-lanned self that we were offered it.'

The ranger turned his broad smile on the girl.

'We were passing the temple of Lathander, when one of the acolytes did call out to us. He remembered Minsc and Boo from before, when we aided them in the making of their new shrine, and he told us that the Dawnmaster Kreel may have another task for us all. The Dawnmaster was making preparations for the high sun service when we spoke to him, and asked that we return later that he may explain to us in greater detail the _dangers_ we will be facing!'

'Minsc, that's brilliant!' enthused Fritha, Jaheira nodding, looking pleased as well.

'Indeed. Well, there is little point in us standing out here in the street,' she continued, as a rather rowdy group of women jostled past them, 'we should head inside if we plan to take lunch.'

'You lot can,' agreed Fritha, 'I'm going to head over to the shrine to Mask and make my prayers.'

'Why did you steal them?' quipped Haer'Dalis with a nod to her new boots. Fritha laughed going a pleasant shade of pink.

'No!'

'Do not be foolish,' scolded Jaheira teasingly, 'it is because she wants Renal to see her in them.'

Fritha was even pinker now, the girl trying to look scandalised: something very difficult to do when you are giggling merrily.

'_Jaheira!_'

'Renal?' questioned Cernd and Haer'Dalis nodded.

'Yes, Renal Bloodscalp, he is a guildmaster of the thieves here in the city. He and the raven share a _special _acquaintance.'

'Oh, they are courting?'

'No, they are _not_!' came Anomen sharply, Fritha calming enough to nod and add, 'Indeed, we are just allies of a sort and as such he may have some work he can put our way, so-' She was cut off as a man, tanned, grey-haired and plainly in hurry, knocked into her as he went past. 'Hey, careful there!'

The man glanced back, an apology already on his lips. 'Sorry, mi-'

He stopped, his lined face suddenly darkening with a clear contempt as his eyes found him and Cernd could hardly believe it.

'Ig- Igarol?'

'Do I know you?' the man grunted with feigned ignorance as he cast an appraising eye over him and half-turned to leave again, 'No, I do not think I do.'

In later years, Cernd would often look back and wonder why he had not just let Igarol go then, when he had worked so hard at distancing himself from his past. Perhaps a part of him had always been still living in that city, clinging to that old life.

'Igarol,' he cried, halting his departure with but a word, 'you do not remember-'

'I did not say I did not _remember_ you, I said I did not _know_ you,' Igarol sneered, something that looked strange on a face he was only used to seeing smile. 'You are but a shadow of the man I once called neighbour.'

'Neighbour?' questioned Jaheira, glancing between them, 'Is this man a friend of yours, Cernd?'

Igarol shook his head, his voice much warmer as he answered her.

'No, miss, none could accuse me of such. I fear this is but a pale reflection of the decent man who once made his living beside me in the Promenade.'

Cernd ignored the dark looks being shared about him. He would, no doubt, have much to explain later, but now he was more concerned with trying to reconcile himself with the man he had once been glad to called 'friend'.

'Igarol, I now serve the lands that once were the foundation of our livelihoods; is that so terrible? Surely you see that my greater duty-'

'Do not speak to me of duty when you are the one who abandoned his wife!' Igarol burst out, suddenly furious.

'_Wife?_' cried Aerie somewhere behind him.

'I did not _abandon_ Galia!' snapped Cernd, his own temper rising at the injustice of this attack, 'I left her well provided for! She understood that my fate was to serve Nature; I could no longer stand life in this city.'

Igarol merely snorted though, his manner hard.

'Nature called and you left. Oh, she understood well enough, but did you? Ah, I am done with you. Good business.'

And with that, he turned and marched off to be lost in the crowds once more.

'What was all that about?' came Fritha eventually, sounding as taken aback as he felt and Cernd turned away from her to unfortunately catch Jaheira's eye instead, the woman sending him a dark look.

'I think perhaps we should all go inside and discuss this further over tea,' she offered, her look indicting just _who_ she was expected to do most of the talking. Cernd nodded, still feeling shaken and, in silence, the group filed back into the gloom of the Coronet.

xxx

Cernd swallowed, very aware of the five pairs of eyes that rested on him. This was it; the life he thought he had left behind had finally caught up with him. He was a fool to think it would not, there in that city where it had all begun. Although perhaps not all was as he had left it, he considered as he thought back to what Igarol had said of Galia… though thoughts of his wife would have to wait now, an explanation to his companions long overdue.

Cernd set his cup down before him and even the din of the surrounding tavern seemed hushed as he drew that first breath.

'I was not always like this, neither a druid nor a werewolf. I grew up here in Athkatla though, for as long as I can remember, there was always a duality within me, as though I was two people. My father was a potter by trade and some of my earliest memories were of him taking me out of the city to gather clay from the riverbanks for him and my mother to work. I found the world outside city walls amazing, a land of peace and harmony so different from the hectic grasping world of the Promenade in to which I had been born. Even then, I had dreams of leaving my life in the city and going out in the world to serve Nature.

'My father realised this too, though I believe he hoped I would grow out of my fascination. But I did not and it became a source of tension between us as I grew older. He wanted me to stop daydreaming and settle down, to begin a family of my own and take over the business, just as he had inherited it from his own mother so long ago, but I resisted. Finally, the fates decided it for both of us. My father fell ill. He was examined by healers and clerics both, but nothing helped, and when he knew the end was upon him, he called me to him.'

Cernd felt a darkness pass over his heart and for but a moment he was back there, knelt by that bed, watching the frail shadow of the man who had once been his father draw shallow fractured breaths.

'Even then, in the face of death his thoughts were on his family, the man worrying for the wife he would leave behind. I would have done anything to make his passing easier. I swore to him then that I would stop dreaming; that I would take over the business and look after my mother, a kind and gentle woman, as she deserved.

'We buried my father in the summer of my twentieth year and from that very moment, I threw myself into that life with all my heart. I took over the business, made many good friends and even took Galia as my wife. Between us, the pottery grew and flourished, I was well-liked and respected by my peers and a part of me was contented with my life. And yet I still I found that I lived for those mornings when I left the city to gather the clay just as I and my father once had.'

Cernd sighed deeply. Neither reality had been so terrible; he could be living that same parallel life still had it not been for the encounter…

'I lived that fractured existence until my twenty-seventh winter. The business had grown greatly over the years, much helped by Galia's skill at the wheel and increasing amounts of clay were needed to keep up with the demand. Galia wanted us to begin to purchase our clay instead of collecting it ourselves, but I convinced her to hire Fennecia instead to help her in the home and the workshop, while I continued to leave the city for even longer periods as I went further into the nearby forests to gather the clay we needed. Sometimes I would be gone for days at a time, spending my days wandering along the riverbanks, my nights just sleeping beneath the trees. Galia was unhappy, I know, for in spite of it all she loved me truly, but I could not bear to give up my wanderings. And then, on one such trip the fates struck again. I was attacked and bitten by what I thought to be merely a wolf at the time. I assumed it had been driven to seek me as prey by the unusually harsh winter and I managed to drive it off, though I was soon to discover all was not as it had first seemed.

'From the very next day, I noticed a change in myself, my senses were sharper, a baser understanding of the world about me flowing through my heart, though it was not until I returned to the city that I realised my true nature. The creature that had bitten me was a werewolf and now I was one as well. The city that had once been merely a source of slight displeasure was now a confusion of noise and smell, and I realised that, at last, I no longer had a place there.

'I would like to be able to say I had no choice, but even after I admitted the truth of it to Galia, she stuck by me. Lycanthropy can be managed to a degree, with elixirs and magicks, though they are expensive. Of course, certain risks would always be present, that I could lose control of myself, that my secret could be discovered, especially in this city where the Cowled Wizards hold such power, but Galia was willing to do all she could to work with my affliction and allow us to remain together. But truth be told, I no longer wanted to; I was two men no more.'

He shook his head smiling humourlessly.

'It is ironic; an affliction that would have caused the greatest of rifts in most people actually made _me_ whole. I was but one man now, and one that belonged out in the wilds. I could not stay. But a month later, I left the city, leaving Galia our business and home as her own, and headed to a grove of druids I knew lived in the marshes just east of Trademeet, and the rest is as you know.'

'Right, well…' began Fritha after a long pause, the girl sending an unreadable look to the woman next to her and Jaheira frowned, turning back to Cernd.

'If Galia was so accepting of your decision why did that man we met react with such hostility towards you?'

Cernd shook his head, as surprised as they had been by Igarol's reaction.

'I- I do not know. I cannot believe Galia would have defamed my name in my absence, however upset she may have been at my going.' He glanced to Fritha, aware that it was her goals that were suffering by all this. 'I realise I am not in a position to be asking favours of you, but if we have the time, I should like to visit my old home and speak with her.'

The girl sighed and nodded vehemently.

'To be honest, I think that is a good idea, and the sooner the better too. I do _not_ want this to creep up on us again at some inopportune moment.'

'Indeed,' agreed Jaheira, 'and I do not think you should attend alone either; the next person you meet may not be so happy to just say their piece and leave you be.'

Cernd hesitated a moment, but however awkward the situation may be, there really was nothing he could say against her offer. He nodded once and Fritha smiled grimly.

'Well, there's no time like the present.'

xxx

'Here,' said Cernd, gesturing to the house they were all gathered before, 'this was our home and the pottery both -I do not understand why it is closed up like this.'

Fritha let her eyes travel over the frontage before her, the place dark and deserted. Cernd's home was one of the many shops and workrooms that were built into the great tiered walls of the Promenade. They were quite high up and the air was cooler there, the wind holding a sting it did not seem to have on the ground, the people looking small and ant like as they scurried about the marketplace below. Fritha drew her gaze away, turning instead to look over those about her. Everyone had wanted to join Cernd in the end, though she considered with a glance to Haer'Dalis, some people's reasons for attending seemed to be more altruistic than others, the tiefling looking as though he was enjoying the unfolding drama immensely.

'There is a fine layer of dust inside,' offered Jaheira, turning back from the window she was looking through, 'I do not think anyone has been here for a while.'

Cernd frowned, shielding his eyes as he turned to gaze across the Promenade.

'Our serving woman, Fennecia, lives just across the way on the southern side, perhaps she will have some idea of what is going on.'

And so they filed back down, skirting the marketplace to hike up the tiered walls on the opposite side to almost the same height again and Fritha hoped the woman still lived there; she was heartily sick of climbing steps by this point, if nothing else.

Cernd stepped forward, knocking politely on the peeling green door, and there was a slight pause before there came the sound of the bolt being drawn back and the wood slowly swung back to reveal a stout dark-skinned woman of late middle age, her dark curls streaked with grey. Cernd smiled genially.

'Ah, Fennecia-'

The woman swelled like a bullfrog.

'_You?_ Get away from here, _dog!_'

Cernd frowned, but seemingly more from surprise than any anger. 'Fennecia, please, I would speak with Galia. Where is she? Why is our home abandoned?'

'You've a nerve, I'll give you that. Coming back here after what you did!'

'What I _did?_' the druid repeated, his temper rising, 'I did nothing but leave my wife under the most amicable of terms and I would very much like to know why everyone else would seem to think otherwise!'

'Cernd, calm down, this helps no one,' soothed Fritha, the girl placing herself between the pair as Fennecia shrank further behind the cover of her door, though her manner was no meeker for the retreat.

'Oh ho, amicable was it?' the woman continued scornfully, 'More like convenient! You realised there was finally something that would keep you from your precious nature forever and you bolted like the coward you are! And as for Galia, she is somewhere now that you will never be able to disappoint her again. She is safe from you now, swine; she and the child both!'

'Child?' cried Cernd clearly astounded, the man wedging a hand against her door as Jaheira instinctively grabbed his other arm, 'Fennecia, I demand you tell me of what you speak!'

'No, get out of it!' she shrieked, defiant in her fear, the woman straining to shut her door.

'Cernd, calm yourself!' shouted Jaheira, 'Cernd!'

He twisted free, lunging forward to try to get to the woman, Fritha moving to hold him back, one arm along his chest, her other hand braced against the woman's doorframe as others rushed to help her.

'Cernd, stop-'

It all happened very quickly, Minsc scooping Cernd under his arms to pull him back and Fritha gave an unearthly scream as the door was unexpectedly freed and instantly slammed shut on her hand. Suddenly everyone stopped; Cernd just stood, his eyes closed and breathing deeply, Minsc's hand still on his shoulders, the old woman peering fearfully around the edge of her door as though too scared to even move to shut it again.

Fritha was cradling her hand to her chest, hissing curses into it, Anomen hovering at her arm though she ignored him, finally straightening to send the druid a furious glare before turning to back to Fennecia.

'Please madam,' she began again politely, though there was definitely an edge to her tone now, 'we merely wish to know where Galia is, then we will go and leave you in peace.'

Fennecia stared defiantly back at them before she sighed defeatedly and shook her head.

'Galia's dead.'

Cernd looked as though he had just been hit with something very heavy.

'What? When?'

'About six months ago, at the end of the spring.'

'But- but how?'

'I don't know.'

Cernd shook himself, clearly trying to make sense of it all.

'But, Fennecia, what are you speaking of, I don't- I don't understand.'

The woman sent him a dark look.

'No, I don't suppose you would. You may harp on, patting yourself on the back about how you left Galia the home and the pottery, but you left her with a whole lot more than that,' she paused, her manner grave, 'you left her with child, Cernd.'

Aerie gasped, the elf was looking at Cernd as though she had never seen him before, while at Fritha's side Anomen was shaking his head darkly, muttering an oath under his breath. Jaheira glanced to her and Fritha sent her a look in reply; this would not end well, and they both knew it. Cernd was just staring at the woman, his shock seemingly beyond words, the man finally finding his voice to stammer, 'But- but, we had always thought- I mean she had been expecting before, but she could never carry a child to term-'

'Well, she carried this one for a good eight months after you turned tail and fled,' said Fenncia with a cruel candour, 'You were always so attuned to nature weren't you? How strange then that you never noticed the signs -or perhaps you did and that was why you finally left her!'

'No!' Cernd cried, almost pleading, 'It was not like that. I had no idea!'

'Well, you were the only one after a short while, I can tell you,' Fennecia snorted humourlessly, sighing deeply as she continued her tale. 'So you leave and she's with child, and the baby's without a father; well, you know as well as I, such children are less than dirt in this city. And then she meets Althan Deril, a nobleman from over the river. I don't know anything for certain, but I always suspected he could not father a child of his own. Galia must have seemed like a gift to him, still so young and fair and already bearing the child he so craved. Galia did not love him; how could she? He was a dried up old thing and cold with it.' Fennecia shook her head, frowning to her herself as she remembered some past unease, 'Not unkind or choleric, as far as I know, but very cold -he never smiled. But she had more than just herself to think about then and they were married within the month. I met her a few times after that; once just before her confinement and a couple of time afterwards. Oh, she chattered away easily enough, said she was glad to have borne a healthy son after so many disappointments, but there was always a melancholy to her. Poor girl had a wretched fate, married to two men, neither of them caring a whit for her. Then in the spring, I get news that she's fallen sick and died. And so it ends.'

'But why didn't she just tell me she was with child?' Cernd cried, his emotions wavering between frustration and despair. Fennecia snorted contemptuously.

'And have you feel you had to stay because of it and resent them both? Galia wanted the decision to be yours. Foolish girl; perhaps she thought you would choose her in the end. Well, the decision _was_ yours, Cernd; you made it, you left and now she is dead and your child knows another as father, and I hope your conscience tortures you for it!'

The door was slammed shut with force enough to rattle the hinges. Fritha turned away from the peeling wood, moving over to sit on the nearby wall and finally let Anomen examine her hand.

Cernd looked ashen and dazed, the man still staring unblinkingly at the door where the herald of all this misery had just been stood. Fritha wanted to feel sorry for him; indeed, part of her did. But another, more jaded part of her wondered, that for one who went on so about Nature and the Balance, whether Fennecia's claims that he _had_ subconsciously noticed something and fled because of it did not hold some small grain of truth. He was muttering quietly to himself now, seemingly distracted as he turned from the door.

'I have a son. I can't- why didn't she tell me?' He glanced up suddenly, all fervour, 'I have to meet him!'

'Cernd,' ventured Aerie quietly in the silence that followed, 'you heard what Fennecia said, he has been taken in by this noble's household.'

The druid ignored her. 'I have to see him; I have to make sure he is well!'

Everyone's eyes seemed to slowly come to rest on her. Fritha sighed

'We… can make some inquiries, I suppose. But remember, Cernd, by the law, he is no longer your son; you gave up your rights to him when you left Galia.'

'I do not care for your laws or rights! Nature has her own laws and my son-'

'_Your son?_ The boy won't even recognise you!' Fritha snapped; her hand was hurting fiercely and this sort of complication really was the last thing they needed. 'And we _both_ know what happens to the abandoned by Nature's laws! _Survival of the fittest_ ring any bells? –be thankful this man took the child in to start with!'

'We _will_ look into this manner, Cernd,' continued Jaheira, the woman stepping forward to lay and hand on his shoulder, her voice firm and calming, 'but we need to do it in our own way, work within the laws of the city. Otherwise we will just make things worse.'

Cernd shook his head, his anger replaced by a misery that Fritha found even more worrying.

'Things cannot be any worse and I needed no help before.' He turned to stare hopelessly out over the Promenade. 'By the Gods, what have I done?'

xxx

Jaheira shifted slightly, trying to get closer to the bar and her wine, the tall stool heavy and hard to move without standing up again. After the scene at the Promenade, the group split up once more, the majority of them heading over to speak with the Dawnmaster at the temple of Lathander while Fritha went to finally make her prayers over at the thieves' guild and see if she couldn't get a quick audience with the Thief Master while she was at it, before they had all retuned to the Coronet once more.

Jaheira smiled to herself, feeling again the overwhelming sense of relief as she thought back to her meeting with Galvarey. Fritha did not even know how close she had come to such troubles and now they were all to be forgotten. She took another sip of the sour red wine, the less than pleasant taste taking her back to the Sea's Bounty where she had drunk with Dermin that morning. He was a good friend and an old one too. He had been a veteran within the Harpers even when she had first joined, the man taking her under his wing somewhat, showing her how to work within their ranks; when to hide her feelings and when to let her temper fly. And now, whenever her doubt of Galvarey made her question her role, she thought of Dermin and the many other faithful friends she counted within the Harper's ranks and felt vindicated in her trust of them.

Jaheira started from her reverie as someone drew out the stool next to her and she glanced up to see Fritha sinking onto the seat, the girl offering her a smile in greeting, the barmaid promptly setting another cup of wine before them without a word. Jaheira watched as Fritha raised it shakily to her lips, the knuckles of the hand with which she grasped it, a mottled streak of purple.

'How is your hand?'

The girl sighed, setting the cup down to flex her fingers slightly.

'Still a bit stiff. Anomen gave it another check over now the swelling's gone down and there's no permanent damage -why are you smiling?'

'Oh, no reason,' Jaheira offered quickly, 'I was just recalling something Haer'Dalis said earlier.'

They both glanced back to the table to where he was laughing with Minsc, the tiefling teasing Aerie as she tried to scold him about something. Fritha grinned wickedly.

'He's such a torment, isn't he? I love it!'

Jaheira frowned but said nothing.

'At least someone's in a good humour,' the girl continued, her attention shifting to the table next to them where Cernd sat alone, brooding into a large flagon of ale, 'not that you can blame him. Must have all been a bit of a shock for him today.'

Jaheira sighed. 'He will not let this rest, you know; it could cause complications for us.'

Fritha took another sip of wine, nodding dully.

'Yes, I know.' She sighed deeply. 'Nothing's ever simple, eh? I asked Renal about this Deril fellow once I finally got over there this afternoon, but as far as Renal knows- or _says_ he knows, at least -he's just another nobleman. At least we've managed to find some work for ourselves though.'

'Yes,' agreed Jaheira, thinking back to their earlier meeting with the Dawnmaster, 'though I would prefer it if Kreel had been able to be a touch clearer on what we will need to face. A game amongst children at the local temple school sees a young boy disappeared into the city crypts along with the three priests sent after him, and now all of them are gone without a trace.'

Fritha shook her head, looking sad. 'The poor lamb, he must be so frightened.'

Jaheira imagined that after being missing for three days he was likely dead, but she did not say this. A body had yet to be found after all and only a creature of some sentience would take the trouble to hide one… She glanced to the girl next to her.

'Do you think this Vampire Guild could be behind it?'

Fritha frowned slightly. 'I'm not sure they would want to. As the sages say, "never fight a war on two fronts." They would be unwise to invite the anger of such a powerful church when they are already at war with the Shadow Thieves.'

Jaheira nodded; for all her foolishness, Fritha had a very sensible head on her shoulders.

'That would make sense.'

Fritha smiled, downing the last of her wine in one mouthful and suppressing a shudder as she swallowed, the girl still clearly feeling the after effects of last night's excesses.

'Well, that's it for me now, I need an early night.'

Fritha dropped lightly from the stool and headed for the stairs only to run into Anomen as he descended into the tavern. Jaheira watched the pair's brief exchange, the knight gesturing to her hand as they spoke, Fritha smiling and nodding as she replied before he bowed slightly and they parted, Fritha disappearing upstairs. Anomen turned back to the room to catch her watching and Jaheira hid her smile in her cup.


	57. A cowled dance

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

**A cowled dance**

There was a tense excitement building that morning, everyone moving between each other's rooms in an informal flurry of last preparations as the group readied themselves for their descent into the crypts. Fritha's door was still open, (Minsc had not long left after she had helped him with his vanbraces), the girl currently bent double as she struggled into her chainmail, listening to the sounds of the others gathering in the hall outside.

'Minsc, do you have the spare lantern?'

'Oh, I think I've forgotten my- Oh no, there it is,'

'My raven?'

'Just a moment…' Fritha rolled her shoulders one last time, her head finally emerging as the shirt slipped on, 'There, now what-' She stopped as she noticed Haer'Dalis stood in her open doorway, his hand resting casually on the shoulder of the skinny young boy before him. 'Oh, Meck, no,' she sighed, 'not _now_; I was only just there yesterday!'

The boy shook his head, looking remarkably sympathetic.

'I ain't 'ere about the theatre, m'lady. I've come with a message. Some bloke's just pitched up at the play'ouse asking fer you.' Meck sent her a dark look, 'Says 'e's from the Cowled Wizards.'

xxx

They were marching briskly along the wide stone corridor, their footsteps echoing on the marble floor as they followed the loping gait of the gangly young man. Fritha spared a glance to the woman next to her, Jaheira sending her a wary frown in reply. They had left the others in the Coronet not long ago with plans to start their search of the crypts without them, they themselves returning quickly to the theatre with Meck to meet their _Cowled Wizard_. Fritha was not sure what she had been expecting, but it had not been the rather pimply youth who had greeted their arrival, the boy no older than sixteen winters with the pale weedy look of one who did not see enough sunlight. He was an amiable lad though, instantly introducing himself as Madeen, the apprentice to a mage of some power and influence who requested their presence, though he could give no details as to why.

Fritha let her attention shift back to the cool stone hallway. They had never been upstairs in the Council Buildings before, for access was restricted for common citizens and it surprised her at how much quieter it was than the ground floor, with its chaos of clerks and city guards dashing back and forth. Here, the corridors were empty save for the occasional person in robes who drifted silently past them. Fritha looked again to Jaheira, her hushed voice coming out as a hiss.

'What do you think this summons could mean then? Perhaps they've realised Imoen's innocent. Perhaps they're going to release her!'

Jaheira sent her a stern, almost pained look.

'Now, it is not wise to get your hopes up, Fritha.'

'No, no, I know,' she conceded, trying and failing to quell said feeling in her heart, 'but what else could it be?'

'Here, ladies,' came the youth ahead of them, the apprentice opening the door they had come to and bowing them inside.

It was not a large room and seemed even smaller due to the huge desk that had been placed in its centre, two chairs before it while behind sat a tall rake-thin man of middling years, his brown hair slicked back to best show off his strong forehead, his neat beard not quite hiding the lack of chin. He was just as pasty as his apprentice but colder with it, thin wire-framed glasses perched upon his long nose as he read from the parchment before him as though oblivious to their entrance. Bookshelves lined the walls around them with the exception of the one behind him, in which was set instead with a large window that looked out over the formal gardens, the light from which falling, either by design or coincidence, over the man, giving him a glowing aura of light that could not help but look impressive.

'Sir?' ventured the youth.

'Hmm?' The man glanced up, absently adjusting his spectacles to finally recognise them, 'Ah, yes, do have a seat, ladies. That will be all, Madeen.'

The youth shut the door without a word.

Fritha sat as she was bade, but just barely and the girl could feel herself twitching, just desperate for news of her friend.

'Now then,' the mage smiled, coolly dropping his attention to them, 'My name is Tolgerias. I have heard much of your reputation about the city, especially your apprehension of the Bridge murderer and I have been wondering if you would like to hunt a similar fellow who has been evading capture by the Cowled Wizards for almost a tenday now. You know of the prevailing attitude towards magic here in Amn, I assume?'

Fritha considered that it was an attitude hardly helped by the actions of those supposedly administrating it, though she merely nodded once for him to continue.

'Indeed. Well, for some it is even more than that, manifesting in a palpable hatred. One particular man has murdered two of our number in cold blood. He is currently in hiding and I wish for _you_ to find him.'

Fritha nodded again, waving all this away with a hand.

'As you say, but first things first, where's Imoen? Firstly, I want to know she's well, then-'

Tolgerias looked genuinely confused.

'I beg your pardon, but _Imoen_? I am sure I have no idea about whom you are speaking, miss.'

'_What?_ Are you _joking_? You summon me here and don't even _know _about her?' Fritha did not recall standing up but she was certainly on her feet now, leaning over his desk as she continued her tirade. '_Imoen _is the girl who was arrested in the Promenade over _two months_ ago for doing nothing more than trying to protect herself against the man who for the last tenday had been her torturer!'

For all his previous coolness, Tolgerias looked a touch ruffled now.

'Oh, yes, I do recall something, though I fear I have nothing to do with Magical Enforcement,' he soothed mechanically, before steering them neatly back to his own concerns, 'But, I suppose I could make some enquiries, perhaps even put forward for a pardon… that is, of course, if you agree to help me.'

Fritha glanced back to Jaheira, the woman nodding imperceptibly, and the girl felt something inside her break as all her hopes were sudden crushed. She slumped back into chair with a sigh to ask dully, 'What's his name then?'

xxx

'Lord Valygar Corthala.'

'Anything?' came Fritha eagerly and Jaheira shook her head, throwing the small card onto the growing pile of documents before them.

'No, just another invitation to some ball or other; it seems the Corthala family is quite well respected, at least, it was once.'

After their very brief meeting with Tolgerias had concluded, Madeen had shown them straight to a small estate in the northwest of the city where they had commenced to search the Corthala home room by room, finally finding themselves in the small wood-panelled study on the second floor. Jaheira looked about the room from where she was knelt with Fritha on the floor before a large bookcase, the pair searching through the books and documents that were stacked neatly upon it. Something, in fact, that had been disturbing Jaheira ever since they had arrived at the house. She watched as the clouds shifted outside and shaft of sunlight poured through the small window next to them, the usual constellation of dust it should have revealed, reduced to a mere few specks of gold, swirling in the light. The study was too tidy, too clean. There were barely enough books to fill half the bookcase, and Jaheira suspected that they were not the first ones to have searched the place, the Cowled Wizards likely taking anything they deemed of value as soon as Valygar had abandoned his home. But why? What could have so interested them? Tolgerias was not telling them something, of that Jaheira was sure. But what?

Fritha tossed the parchment she had been reading onto the pile as well and sat back on her haunches with a sigh.

'This is _useless_, we've been here _all day_ and we still know nothing more than what Tolgerias told us. That Valygar Corthala, the last son of a local noble house suddenly decided to up and start a one-man campaign against the Cowled Wizards and murdered two of their number.'

'If they were anything like Tolgerias I have every sympathy for him.'

'Indeed. And now he's given them the laugh and we're supposed to find him.'

'And bring him in alive…' added Jaheira, sending the girl next to her an stern look. Fritha dropped her attention back to the papers before them looking uncomfortable.

'Tolgerias said he needed to face justice. We _can_ kill him if he forces us to.'

'Yes, though in that instance we have to bring back his _whole_ body as proof of it,' pressed Jaheira, 'Why not just the head, that is usually sufficient after all? There's something very odd about this whole thing and I do not trust Tolgerias.'

Fritha shook her head, smiling wryly.

'No, well, I agree with you there, but if this Valygar has murdered two people then he needs to face justice, one way or another, and if a certain way will lead us to Imoen then that is the path I intend to take.' The girl glanced to her with an unusually open look, 'I can't let any doubts ruin this chance, Jaheira, she has been gone too long now as it is.'

Jaheira nodded and the pair of them turned back to the pile before them, the druid rising stiffly after a moment to start searching through the desk, her fingers moving over the differing textures of the papers within the drawers. Bill, letter, letter, bill. Her fingers brushed against something cool and hard in the back of the drawer and Jaheira withdrew an old iron key.

'You've found something?' came Fritha at her shoulder.

'I do not know, perhaps.'

'A key,' the girl confirmed, 'and quite a thick one, for a strongbox or a door perhaps?'

'Or it could just be an old key to something not even this Valygar remembers.' Jaheira brought it closer to her face, trying to decipher the letters that were raised along one side. 'Something and Wellings? Does that mean anything to you?'

Fritha shook her head, casting her eyes about the rest of the room. 'Are we done do you think?'

Jaheira sighed and nodded, handing her the key as she tidied the documents back into the desk and shut the drawer.

'Yes, this place has been picked clean.'

xxx

Jaheira drew a deep breath of cold afternoon air, glad to be out of that house as the pair of them set off, heading back towards the river and the south of the city.

'So what do you think our next step should be?' asked Fritha and Jaheira sighed.

'Well, it is unlikely we will get anymore information than we have already from the Cowled Wizards and the fugitive's house had yielded no clues, so I suppose next we should visit the scene of the murder and after that we will have to merely rely on our own sources of investigation,' Jaheira glanced to her, smiling slightly, 'perhaps you can ask your Renal if he knows anything.'

Fritha laughed.

'Oh, he's _my_ Renal now, is he? Well, I'll certainly ask him. I can go after our meeting with the magistrate tomorrow. Does Cernd know we have arranged to meet with Magistrate Ianulin?'

Jaheira shrugged. They had taken the time to collar the Magistrate's secretary before leaving the Council Buildings that morning, using the considerable reputation Fritha and their group had about the city to manage to get an appointment to meet with the woman on the morrow, for all the good it would do.

'I told Cernd I would try to arrange something and I have.'

Jaheira sighed, recalling her conversation with the druid before they had left the Coronet. It was the first of the three days of full moon tonight and Cernd had looked more than wan that morning, though with all that had transpired it was hard to tell whether the moon alone had been source of his restlessness. Fritha frowned slightly, looking unconvinced.

'Do you even think Bylanna will be able to do anything?'

'Honestly? No, I do not, and a part of me even wonders if she should. It is as you said, the child does not even know Cernd; to take the boy away from all that he has known without any reason would be cruel and quite unnecessary.'

'Yes, that is so…' the girl agreed absently, seemingly lost in her own thoughts for a moment before she turned back to her once more. 'Still I suppose we should look into it, just on the outside chance. After all, Cernd should at least get to meet his son and Fennecia did say this Deril fellow was an odd one; Galia's death sounded a touch suspicious to me.'

'Yes, well, that is one thing that would perhaps bear investigation, though in being a bad husband it does not necessarily follow that your are a bad person, as Cernd himself proves.' The druid smiled faintly and for a moment she was a whole world away as she added, 'It makes me realise sometimes, how blessed I was to have Khalid.'

Fritha smiled as well, though she said nothing. They had reached one of the smaller wooden footbridges that spanned the river by now, the pair halting before it and ignoring the people bustling past them, some pushing handcarts probably taking deliveries to the northern estates, while others looked to be servants out on errands for the noble households they served, their manners brisk and purposeful behind the neat uniforms. The sun was already on its descent, the people on the bridge little more than hunched silhouettes against the dark yellow sky and Jaheira fancied they all held the same weary look that she had seen before in such places, as though the city life had a way of eroding people's spirits.

'Are you coming back to the inn for dinner?' Jaheira asked, though she suspected she already knew the girl's answer, Fritha shaking her head.

'No, I'll get something at the Five Flagons, Higgold collared me when we arrived to meet Madeen; he wants my opinion on some scene or other.'

'They work you too hard at that theatre.'

Fritha sent her a tired grin.

'Yes, well, as Higgold would say, "Art is _suffering_". Give my regards to the others if you see them.'

Jaheira smiled slightly, watching her disappear along the street before she turned to take her first step on to the bridge.

xxx

Aerie moved slowly along the tunnel, her eyes searching every shadow, ears pricked for any unfamiliar sounds over their echoing footsteps and the creak of armour. She sighed tiredly and instantly wished she hadn't, the air dry and stale, heavy with the scent of embalming fluid and general decay. They had been down in the crypts since mid-morning, walking the labyrinth of tunnels, the open alcoves that lined the walls and the desiccated corpses they held so disturbing at first, now barely worthy of note; even the most frightening of places dull after so long.

Minsc was leading the way, his bald head gleaming slightly in the light of the lantern carried by the silver-haired Lathandite priest next to him. Father Lytham as he had introduced himself, was the head of exequies at the temple and an expert on the sprawling mass of crypts that spanned under the southwest of the city, from the temple district all the way to the cemetery. He had joined them at Dawnmaster Kreel's insistence, the man unwilling to lose any more people to the twisting maze of catacombs and the old priest had proved an invaluable guide, leading them unerringly as they searched the southern quarter of the crypts where the child and then the priests had first disappeared.

Aerie watched as the pair halted a moment, Minsc kindly taking the lantern while Lytham consulted his map before they continued their path and the group set off once more. Behind them, Cernd was walking alone, his weathered face looking even older in the marshy glow of his werelight and holding a melancholy she had not seen in him before. She had tried to speak to him earlier and though polite as he had been, it had been clear he had not wanted company and she had dropped back to walk with Anomen and Haer'Dalis at their rear soon afterwards. Aerie sighed slightly to herself. She could not help but feel for the druid. That he knowingly left his child seemed impossible to the elf, the man more a victim of cruel circumstance in her mind, than an uncaring philanderer, though she did realise that many things had come to light yesterday that he had not told her of, even with the apparent openness she thought she had enjoyed with him. Aerie found Haer'Dalis's hand in the gloom and squeezed it slightly, suddenly very glad to have him as her own; for all their differences and his reluctance to deal with anything outside the present, be it past _or_ future, she never once had any fear he would desert her.

He sent her smile in the darkness, his voice hushed.

'Is something wrong, my dove?'

'No, nothing… I- I was just thinking about poor Cernd.'

'Oh yes,' the bard agreed quietly and with much more enthusiasm that Aerie thought was appropriate, 'it is quite the bother he has found himself in, hasn't he?'

'Have you no sympathy for him?' she reproached, though the tiefling merely shrugged.

'No, why should I? He brought all his troubles upon himself, after all.'

'He did not know he had a child.'

'No, but he knew well enough he had a _wife_ and he should not have married her to start with had he _any_ doubts.'

Aerie blinked, both surprised and impressed by his vehemence.

'And I suppose _you_ have never broken such a vow?' came Anomen from behind them, his tone almost conversational.

'Most assuredly _not_, my hound!' Haer'Dalis exclaimed, looking as offended as Aerie had ever seen him, though he did relent to dropping his voice once more when Minsc glanced back to them with a frown, the bard continuing in a hiss, 'I _never_ make promises I cannot keep.'

Anomen raised an eyebrow, coolly appraising the man. 'But does that show a devotion to keep your word… or merely never to give it?'

Haer'Dalis shrugged.

'In some instances, yes, I would refuse to make any vow, but I find that preferable to breaking one's word. Nevertheless, do not mistake me, knight, I never deal in falsehoods when it comes to matters of the heart. Only misery comes from such deceits however one may think they are sparing another's feelings.'

Anomen nodded once.

'An honourable sentiment.'

'Indeed,' the tiefling continued and Aerie could not fail to notice the mischievous glint to his dark eyes, 'and I wonder then, when you intend to apply such honesty to your own relations; it is unkind to keep the lady in suspense, Anomen.'

Aerie heard herself gasp.

'You- You have a lady, Anomen?'

'Of course not!' he snapped, the gloom not quite hiding the sudden flush to his face as Haer'Dalis continued, nudging him slyly.

'Not _yet _anyway, eh? I imagine there will be quite a few accomplished young ladies flocking about now you've been knighted.'

'If that is the only reason the lady favours me I fear I may find it difficult to return her regard,' said Anomen matter-of-factly, '-be she accomplished or not.'

Haer'Dalis gasped dramatically, pretending to swoon.

'Such nobility of heart, I cannot compete. Go, Sweet Aerie, go and marry him before another lucky maid secures his hand.'

'Haer'Dalis, don't be silly, I wouldn't marry a knight,' she giggled, suddenly whirling to Anomen, worried she had offended him. 'W-Well, what I mean is, if I were to get married, I would want to be with my husband all the time. I should not want him to go away on dangerous campaigns for months on end; I would worry and miss him. But I understand not everyone like that.'

Anomen frowned, looking as uncomfortable as he did interested. 'And you imagine my wife would be a woman such as that?'

Aerie nodded sincerely.

'Well, yes. I- I suppose I always imagined your wife would be a noblewomen who would be happy in her duties of the home, waiting for your return.'

'Indeed,' agreed Haer'Dalis with a broad smile, 'Fritha and I were talking on this just the other night.'

'You _were_?' choked Anomen.

'Oh, yes, and the raven quite agrees with your choice: a nice dutiful noblewoman to bear your children and bake your bread. Why, no home should be without one!'

'And what makes you all think I should want such- such _obligated _relations?' Anomen demanded hotly and Aerie glanced to Haer'Dalis, genuinely puzzled by the knight's displeasure.

'Well, I suppose that was rather short-sighted of us,' she conceded, 'I mean, there are a few ladies within the Order like Irlana, who would want nothing more than to travel and fight as you do. Sorry, have I offended you, Anomen?' she continued quickly as the man's face took on a stony look, 'I- I didn't mean to…'

'No, no, my lady, I should be grateful that the three of you have given the matter such careful thought.'

'A-Anomen?'

'Ugh, why are we even speaking of this nonsense?' Anomen cut himself off with a shake of his head, drawing a deep breath and slowly releasing it before continuing, his voice calmer, albeit in a strained sort of way. 'I am sorry, Aerie, but we should remain alert; there are many dangers down here for the unwary.'

And with that, he quickened his pace slightly to move ahead of them and walk alone. Aerie glanced to Haer'Dalis, the man shrugging once at her questioning look, seemingly no wiser than she as to what could have annoyed the knight so.

'Hold everyone,' came the ranger's voice, echoing slightly in the tunnel ahead of them, 'Boo has found something.'

The pair had come to a halt just before a fork in the tunnel, one side continuing on into the darkness while the other opened out into a small chamber, their lights falling on a large stone sarcophagus, its lid half removed, an assortment of pots and chests set about it, both they and the tomb looking as though they had been recently looted. But it was not this that had brought the two men to a stop and Aerie moved forward with the others to see a pile of corpses just dumped in the middle of the tunnel. They were little more than bones and burial shrouds now after being down there so long, the bodies clearly taken from the nearby crypts to allow whoever have done so to search the alcoves for whatever small treasures they had been buried with.

'Tomb robbers,' confirmed Lytham with a sigh. 'We do not usually get them down here, not when there are richer picking in the cemetery above but…' He trailed off, crouching down to heave the first body back into its alcove, Minsc and Anomen moving quickly to help him as Aerie hurried forward to gather up the mess of random bones that littered the dusty ground.

'Ah, and here is our culprit, my birds,' came Haer'Dalis cheerily from just inside the chamber. Cernd moved to join him, lowering his staff and the werelight that clung to it, and crouching to examine the body of a man, greying skin hanging slack on his pale face.

'From the state of decay he cannot have been down here more than a tenday at most.' Cernd directed the light lower to revel a neat slash across his stomach, the dried blood staining his tunic black. 'But what could have killed him?'

Haer'Dalis shrugged.

'Perhaps those he came with turned stag and left his body down here with the rest of the corpses. Look,' he continued, moving over to another crumpled heap towards the back of the chamber, 'there is an- Ah!'

Haer'Dalis shrieked as a fleshy grey hand shot from the pile to grab his wrist. The tiefling freed himself with a sweep of his blade, springing back and shaking off the severed hand that still clung to his arm and Aerie could not help a scream as a ghostly figure swept up from the sarcophagus to shriek, _'Defilers! Thieves! Leave this place!'_

Suddenly, the crumpled forms of the two bodies they had found and third still hidden in the darkness at the back of the chamber rose haltingly to begin shambling towards them with stilted movements. Their group seemed to back away as one, Lytham and Anomen instantly fumbling at their necks and Aerie followed suit, her hand closing about the cord there and drawing up a small gold pendant in the shape of a raccoon's face, the symbol of her god. The others were already holding their own holy symbols out before them, chanting prayers under their breath and Aerie joined them, the prayersong of the Wildplaces coming instantly to her lips as she warded the creatures. The bodies of the three tomb robbers, pale and slack limbed, suddenly began to shudder and finally stopped their slow advance, halting for a moment and swaying as they groped listlessly at some invisible barrier before one by one they crumpled to the floor, dead again and truly so this time.

'What is the meaning of this, spirit?' demanded Anomen angrily, though the spectre seemed not to have heard him, the creature not sparing him a glance as it continued to moan pitifully.

'_No, no, arise my servants. Destroy them!' _

'We have not come to rob you,' ventured Aerie, taking a step towards it, the spirit seeming to calm slightly at her approach, milky eyes regarding her passively, 'please, we are looking for some others, people from the temple like us and- and a small boy. Please, have you seen them?'

The spirit just shook its head though, twisting in the air.

'_No, no, leave, you must leave here. Servants, arise, come to my aid._'

'It is no good,' sighed Lytham, sending her a kind smile, 'this spirit is but a manifestation of a lingering resentment, likely fed by more than one of the poor defiled dead down here. The true consciousness of this body you see in the sarcophagus is long departed; we will get nothing useful from this spectre.' He raised his hand, the golden sunburst of his holy pendant glinting in the collective glow of their werelights. 'Spirit, by the Eternal Light of Lathander, I lay thee to rest.'

The wraith seemed stirred by a wind that only it could feel and Aerie watched as it flicked and finally faded with a long rasping sigh. Lytham shook his head, returning the holy symbol to beneath his robes and moving forward to heave closed the lid of the sarcophagus.

'I shall have to send some people down for these poor unfortunates once it is safe to do so,' he continued half to himself, gesturing to the three bodies before turning back to them, 'Well, shall we continue on then?'

A nod travelled them, the group falling back into formation and they set off once more into the darkness.

xxx

Anomen set his cup back onto the table before him, letting his eyes drift without really seeing over the fine furniture and colourful tapestries of a tavern a far cry from the one he currently called home. He had agreed to join Simon and Erick for a drink that evening, the three meeting in the Mithrest inn at sundown, all making the most of the fact that, for the time being at least, they were all in the city together.

'So, I hear you are aiding us Lathandites at the moment.'

Anomen glanced distractedly back to the table, to see Simon looking at him expectantly.

'Hmm? Oh, yes, a child from the temple school went missing a few days ago now, in the crypts beneath the city; something to do with a game of dares the children were playing,' he explained for Erick's benefit, trying to at least temper the disapproval in his tone. Though they were only young, he could not have imagined anyone at his own seminary ever _dreaming_ of doing anything so foolhardy, though he had to admit, it sounded_just_ like the sort of thing Simon would have been more than happy to join in with when he was younger, the squire nodding earnestly, oblivious to his thoughts.

'Yes, I spoke to the priest about that. I was even released from my duties at the Order to offer my own services in the search, though Dawnmaster Kreel said they had things in hand at the time.'

'He no doubt thought they did. He sent two of the temple guards and a cleric looking for the boy. That they should go missing as well: I could barely have believed it. We searched the whole southern quarter of the crypts today and there is still no sign of them.'

Simon shook his head, looking for a moment serious, before the smile was back once more.

'Well, I am glad, at least, that you and your companions are looking into it. Does Fritha have any idea what could have happened to them? I would, of course, ask her myself, but I _again_ notice the distinct absence of your red-haired friend. I thought you were going to ask her to join us, Anomen.'

Anomen flushed, Erick hiding his smile in his cup.

'She had things to attend to tonight at the theatre.'

Simon frowned.

'Anomen, you _did _invite her, didn't you?'

'As I _said_, Simon, she already had plans.'

'But-' A look from Erick stopped the squire and Simon leaned back in his chair with a defeated sigh. 'Fine, fine.'

A silence descended upon the table, each man returning his attention to his drink, the moments creeping slowly by until-

'But I think you're making a grave mistake,' came Simon firmly, the man ignoring their protests to barrel on regardless, 'Fritha is never going to see you as anything more than a companion in arms unless you give her some sign.'

Anomen shifted uncomfortably in seat, his face burning. 'Simon, I appreciate your concern, but this… matter is _not _one I care to discuss. Now can we please just have a quiet drink as we planned?'

'Yes, all right,' conceded Simon with a sigh, still looking a touch mutinous, 'only let's move on, eh? The company in here is fast going downhill.'

Anomen turned to follow his friend's gaze, watching as Cadril stepped through the tavern doors behind them and the knight needed no further excuse. The three left the Mithrest and moved along to the Goose and Grain, where the lively music made for pleasant atmosphere even if the thoughts it recalled to him were less so; Anomen unable to watch the couples dancing without seeing Fritha and the tiefling, knowing that somewhere else in the city they had been so engaged. All their foolish talk of marriage had annoyed him today, the way they all seemed to have agreed on who he would end up with without even consulting him; the fact they had even considered it! And Aerie's words about how she would she would miss and worry for her husband had rather brought home to him something he had only seen from his own perspective before. Him going away on glorious campaigns with his brothers from the Order, battling injustice and tyranny; now it was tinged with a sadness as he imagined the wife he had left behind and he considered that when Fritha had teased him about marrying a baker, perhaps her fondness for bread was not the only appeal of such a husband.

Anomen frowned, pulling his mind away from this and back to his own friends as they talked and drank the sweet spiced mead the tavern was famed for. He had never been much of drinker. He could get away with more because of his size, but certainly didn't test the limits of it like Fritha and Haer'Dalis seemed happy to. Simon was being very generous in his rounds and whether it was just this or these thoughts to spur him on, Anomen drank a little more than he would have usually and the taverns all seemed to blend into one after they left the Goose.

It was well on into the evening now, the gloaming sky already speckled with young stars as he followed his friends through the darkening streets to the next tavern. Anomen knew they were on the bridge, of course, but his mind seemed to be a few steps behind him on things and it wasn't until he was inside that he recognised just where he was, Samuel glancing up at the sound of the door. Anomen stood frozen on the threshold as he stared out over the lively bustle of the Five Flagons.

'Well, come in, come in, good sirs, let me find you a table. Don't just stand there letting all the heat out, sir,' the halfling laughed genially, moving forward to usher Anomen out of the doorway and leading the three to a table by the hearth, 'come warm yourself by the fire. Now, what'll it be?'

Simon had given the landlord their order and Samuel had left before Anomen finally gathered himself enough to speak, turning a furious glare on his friend.

'Simon,' he breathed, his outrage at this underhanded act making it hard for him to even form the words, 'Simon, I cannot _believe_- we are _not_ staying here!'

'What is wrong?' the squire cried, feigning ignorance and quickly changing to a more reasoning tack when that didn't work. 'Ah, come on, Anomen, we've ordered now. Let's just have one in here, at least.'

Anomen paused a moment, trying to reign in his temper as Cernd had taught him. They could not understand. A fragile balance seemed to exist between he and Fritha at the moment; how she looked at him sometimes, almost as though she was on the edge of realising how he felt and he was filled with the fear that the slightest error on his part could ruin things forever. And then there was Simon, who clearly thought he was acting for the best, his friend so eager to help him in this matter that Anomen would much rather everyone just forgot about, especially when he himself was so unsure of how or even _if_ he would proceed. He looked to Erick, who shrugged mildly as though he could see nothing so unreasonable in this request and Anomen sighed deeply, feeling drunk and foolish, as though even his own thoughts were no longer under his control.

'Fine, just one. But then we-'

But what they would have been was lost as a familiar laugh rang clear over the general clamour of their surroundings. Anomen glanced up to see Fritha slowly ascending the stairs in the corner, though she did not notice them, the girl caught in conversation with the two women either side of her who he assumed were actresses from the theatre below. Simon beamed as more laughter broke out from the three.

'Ah, and there is the Lady Fritha with that smile she wears so well! Tell me is she ever without it?'

'Yes, too often lately,' Anomen muttered darkly, though only Erick seemed to hear him, Simon already on his feet and, to Anomen's horror, calling across to them.

'Ho, my Lady Fritha!'

'_Simon_, sit _down_!'

But it was too late and Anomen watched her start at the address, Fritha easily finding Simon in the crowd. Her smile broadened, the two women next to her whispering to each other slyly as she returned his wave and began to move over to them.

'Simon!' Fritha cried, no less than glowing as she greeted the squire, 'Oh, and Sir Erick and Anomen too; what are you three doing here?'

Simon shrugged carelessly, giving Anomen the briefest of glances. 'Oh, you know, just out for a quiet drink.'

Fritha laughed, sending the three an incredulous look.

'And you came _here_? Oh, where are my manners?' she continued, stepping back to present her companions and Erick and Anomen immediately stood as well, 'Please allow me to introduce Jenna, who well deserves her title of Leading Lady and Wynn, the best costumier this side of Waterdeep. Friends, this is Sir Erick, Sir Anomen and Squire Simon, the Order's finest.'

The two groups came together at this, with much smiling and polite refuting and Fritha laughed, drawing out the chair next to Anomen.

'Fine, fine, make a liar of me then. So, enjoying your evening, Anomen?'

Anomen swallowed dryly, feeling very on show as he answered.

'It has been pleasant enough so far.'

'What Anomen _means_ to say,' interrupted Simon smoothly, 'is that it is an evening much improved now you charming ladies have joined our company.' He smiled to the girls next to her and Fritha glanced to Anomen to send him a grin as she rolled her eyes and the knight felt a pleasant warmth creeping up from his stomach that had nothing to do with the ale.

'So is there a reason for this unexpected pleasure?' continued Simon, nodding his thanks as a server arrived with their drinks.

'Oh, Iltheia just had a tantrum because Zeran was _apparently _blocking her light during the rehearsal,' dismissed Jenna with a sigh, clearly displeased with the interruption, Wynn nodding sympathetically.

'Higgold called a break while he and the Lady Patron went off to appease her.'

Fritha smiled wryly. 'It soon became apparent though that I hadn't the required… _delicacy_ for such a task, so I left him down there still trying to sooth her sensibilities.'

Erick smiled. 'Oh dear, is she usually like this?'

'Yes!' the three chorused ardently, the girls all looking to each other in their surprise and laughing lightly.

'You could say she suffers from a more artistic temperament than most,' said Fritha diplomatically.

'Yes, and she seems resolved to make all _us _suffer for it too,' sighed Jenna and the group laughed.

'Now, what is this?' came a stern and rather nasal voice above them and the two girls started, Anomen looking up to see the figure of Higgold looming over them. 'Really, ladies, the break ended a quarter hour ago!'

'It was my fault, Higgold, I pressed them to stay,' Fritha lied unashamedly, dipping her face in false regret. The director gave the three women a rather fatherly look.

'Well, I shall say no more then. Now come along, Jenna, we are ready to rehearse the parlour scene. And you too, Wynn.'

The two women rose, the men standing too as they made their goodbyes before Higgold ushered them downstairs. Fritha watched them go, smiling fondly as Higgold muttered admonishments to the pair as they went.

'So, my Lady Fritha,' continued Erick rather formerly as they took their seats once more, 'how went your search of the crypts today?'

Fritha glanced to the man next to her, faintly surprised Anomen had not already regaled them with this tale.

'Anomen has not told you? I will admit I would be intrigued to hear about it myself. Jaheira and I could not accompany them, you see, we had a conflicting engagement to attend elsewhere in the city.'

'We have found nothing in the crypts as yet, my lady,' Anomen answered quickly, seemingly concerned he had yet to ask her the same, 'But how went your meeting with the Cowled Wizards? I spoke briefly to Jaheira before I left the Coronet; she said it was not entirely as you had hoped.'

'No,' Fritha replied promptly, her voice bright and airy as she continued, 'but there is still hope. All we need do is find this murderer for them and there is still a chance Imoen could be returned.'

'Imoen?' came Simon and the pair turned as one, both seemingly having forgotten they were not alone. Fritha smiled apologetically.

'Oh, I'm sorry, how rude of us. Imoen is my friend; she was arrested and imprisoned by the Cowled Wizards, about two months ago now, in a misunderstanding concerning a minor breach of the city's anti-magic laws. I have been working towards her release ever since.'

'Ah, yes, Anomen did mention something…' offered Simon quietly before trailing off altogether and a palpable feeling of gloom seemed to descend over the table.

'So,' continued Erick stalwartly, 'Anomen told us you ran the playhouse here, Fritha?'

Fritha smiled slightly. 'Well, I fear run is a bit of an exaggeration; as you can see Higgold does most of the work-'

'You selected the cast, my lady._ And _you wrote the score,' Anomen cut in sharply. 'Everyday you are here to help with some problem or another; I do not believe there would even be a play without you.'

Fritha swallowed as she flushed pink, Anomen suddenly rigid in his chair, looking as uncomfortable as she felt.

'I help where I can,' she managed after a moment, rather wishing that said theatre would throw some other crisis her way so she could graciously quit the table. It was not that she did not like the men's company, but Anomen was acting strangely, as though he was worried she would somehow embarrass him, and it was making her feel ill at ease.

So,' Fritha continued in the manner of one casting awkwardly about for conversation, 'where have you been already tonight?'

'We started at the Mithrest and then headed to the Goose and Grain,' offered Simon promptly.

'Oh yes? I've not been in the Mithrest before, but I remember the Goose for the music.'

'You like to dance my lady?' inquired Erick.

'Yes, when I can.'

'Why, that _is_ good news!' exclaimed Simon with real enthusiasm, 'Many of our friends are of the same mind and we are always in need of partners. We shall have to arrange a gathering. Anomen here claims he does not like to dance, but I am sure for you, Fritha, he would make an exception.'

But Fritha merely laughed, sending the knight next to her a fond smile. 'Well, he certainly didn't the last time I asked him.'

It was something she was to instantly regret. Anomen looked as though he wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole, Simon and Erick clearly trying not to laugh.

'Oh, I was only teasing,' she continued hurriedly, trying to rectify her mistake, 'I didn't mind or anything, I-'

'We could return to the Goose now if you wished to dance, my lady,' Anomen interrupted quietly, ignoring the pair opposite, 'the evening is yet young.'

Fritha smiled, feeling both grateful and relieved.

'It's kind of you to offer, Anomen, against your inclination though I know it to be, but it is fine. Besides, dancing is best on a light heart –not a light head.'

She raised her cup in toast to him and they laughed, the previous awkwardness finally gone from the air. And there the group stayed and spent the rest of their evening, and after a while Anomen too seemed to relax, whatever had been troubling him clearly passing, the man laughing along with the rest of them as Simon and sometimes Erick related stories of when they were all but young squires of the Order, callow and foolish.

It was late now, the moon already on its descent as they left the tavern, Fritha walking abreast with Erick and continuing their talk from before, while Simon and Anomen, the pair somewhat deeper in their cups than they, held an earnest albeit whispered exchange as they followed them through the dark streets. Fritha smiled at the man next to her. Erick was easily the most handsome of the three friends, his face pale and sculpted, the black waves of hair that swept carelessly down to curl about his collar giving him a noble look. His manner was different too, grave and quiet, though without the austerity that seemed to accompany such characteristics in others.

'So tell me, was it true that Simon managed to trick you into believing he had already been knighted when you first arrived here in Athkatla?'

Erick smiled slightly, dipping his head in confirmation.

'I fear so, my lady. I was fresh from rather strict a seminary when I joined the Order at sixteen. Simon was quite tall for his age at the time and when I first met him, it was in the courtyard when he was taking his knight's horse out for its exercise. When on horseback he looked even more imposing and I could not help but salute as I passed and so the joke was born from there. He had me convinced he was the youngest knight in the history of the Order and he had even persuaded some other boys to pretend they were squired to him to further the trick.'

Fritha was giggling merrily by this point, Erick smiling as he continued the tale of his shame.

'I only discovered the deception a few days later when I saw him running an errand for his own knight. I was angry at first, but Simon apologised and offered to help me with my own chores for that tenday in recompense and I realised it was all in good humour.' He shook his head, glancing back to where Simon was still talking with Anomen, the blond man laughing quietly as Anomen glared at him. 'I swear, he has not changed a bit since -and I would not have it otherwise.'

Fritha smiled, about to reply when a smooth female voice cut her off.

'Good evening, friends.'

Erick had drawn his sword in an instant, the young paladin staring into the shadows of the alley next to them and behind her, Fritha heard the hiss of metal on metal as Anomen and Simon follow suit. Fritha lay a hand on her sword hilt though she made no move to draw it, following Erick's gaze into the alley to where the outline of a woman was stood, the shapes of her companions shifting silently at her back and Fritha felt cold as a wave of inexplicable dread washed over her. Erick was scowling, his fine face suddenly hard.

'I am no friend of yours, creature. What do you want? Speak!'

Fritha could hear from the woman's voice that she found his demands amusing.

'Stand down your weapons, knights, I bear only words and they are not for you. From my mistress's description, you do not usually keep such pious company, my Lady Fritha.'

She stepped forward from the shadows, the light from the streetlamps falling first on the hem of her skirts and creeping up the rich green gown to finally reveal a pale angular face framed on either side by heavy black ringlets and Fritha felt herself draw a sharp breath as she recognised the tall, gracile form of Parisa.

Parisa herself was no longer smiling either, the vampire staring back at her, seemingly just as surprised.

'_You?_' the woman exclaimed and suddenly she was laughing, something, Fritha considered, that would have made the woman look quite pretty had it not been for the eloquent point to her teeth. 'I was led to believe the last time we met, that you were just a trembling little girl from the Crown.'

Fritha shrugged, still a little taken aback by how the meeting was proceeding.

'Well, yes, I thought it was for the best at the time, with you likely to kill me and all.'

Parisa smiled generously.

'It was cleverly done and I do not bear a grudge; I can see now you are all my mistress expects and more. My mistress has bade me deliver a message to you. She wishes you to meet with her to discuss your captured companion. She knows already of your efforts to locate her and wishes to lend her assistance.'

Fritha felt her heart grow cold; if there was one thing in the world Parisa could have offered her that would make her even consider such a meeting, it would have been that. She stared back at the vampire coolly.

'Oh yes, and what will that cost me?'

Parisa inclined her head in slight apology.

'I can only say what I have been asked to; my mistress would meet with you tomorrow in the hour after sunset on the edge of the cemetery in the south west of the city. May I tell her you will attend her there?'

Fritha nodded once. 'You may.'

Parisa smiled broadly; it held a predatory look. 'Excellent. My mistress will be most pleased. A good evening to you, my lady.'

One step back into the shadows and she was gone.

'We just let them walk away?' cried Simon, looking outraged. Erick sent him a quelling glare.

'Be silent, Simon, you're in no state to pick a fight with anyone. Are you well, my lady?' he continued, his voice milder as he turned to her, 'That creature seemed to know you, she said you have met before?'

Fritha sighed and nodded. 'Yes, I stumbled upon them once just up from the docks. They are the rival guild that has the thieves here in such an uproar. We should get back to the inn. Are you all right to return to the Order with Simon?'

Erick frowned. 'Well, yes, but what of you and Anomen, I do not like the idea-'

'We'll be fine, won't we?' she cut in, turning her attention to the man behind her, Anomen confirming this with a curt nod. 'Besides, they're hardly likely to ask me to meet with their mistress and then attempt to kill me before I do.'

Erick looked little reassured by this, but he relented all the same and the group made their farewells, the men turning to head back to the Order while Anomen and Fritha continued on to the slums. Anomen felt suddenly very sober, the night's merriment but a memory now and the pair walked on in silence before he asked the inevitable question.

'So, you are going to meet with them?'

Fritha smiled grimly. 'Oh, yes.'

'Alone?'

'Goodness, I hope not!' she exclaimed with a bark of hollow laughter. Anomen swallowed dryly, not sure he wanted to even know the answer as he continued, 'And if they offer you a path to Imoen?'

Fritha stopped, turning to him, her face tired and almost sad in the moonlight.

'Let's just say, we'll wait and see, Anomen.'

She turned back to continue their path and he paused a moment before following her. The world that had seemed so warm and full of promise mere moments ago was now all cold uncertainty. He had made vows, firstly as a priest and more recently as a knight, vows to stand against such creatures. To have at last achieved all he had desired, only to instantly have such loyalties tested…

How cruel a Fate would make him choose between his honour and his heart?


	58. Children of the night

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. Nor do I own _Tujhe Dekha To Yeh Jana Sanam _by Anand Bakshi.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

**Children of the night**

The maid set down the last of their dishes with a smile, the group sat about a table in the common room sharing a noisy breakfast, all talking of their plans for the day as they passed about the baskets of bread and fruit and, to Minsc's delight, a dish of pickled herrings -they were apparently quite the delicacy in his homeland. Jaheira was not tempted though, bread and honey a more than adequate meal to start the day in her opinion.

'Right,' came a voice clear over their din and everyone seemed to hush instinctively as Fritha continued, 'now we're all here, there's something you all need to know. Anomen and I were out together last night-'

Jaheira suddenly straightened in her chair, the tiefling next to her doing the same as the girl continued.

'It was very enjoyable. We drank and laughed and had all sorts of fun. And, of course, _how_ could our evening be complete without another run in with our local vampire guild.'

'_Vampire_ guild?' exclaimed Cernd, seemingly astounded, 'There's an actual _guild_ of such creatures in the city?'

'It is so, my hound; perhaps you could begin one for you and your canine kin too,' quipped Haer'Dalis, Aerie tutting at him. Jaheira ignored them both.

'You encountered the vampires again?' she confirmed with a frown. Fritha sent her a humourless smile.

'Yes, my tall dark stranger has finally made her appearance, it seems. They were looking for me this time though; they've an offer for us concerning Imoen.'

Aerie was the first to break the heavy silence that seemed to descend at her words, the girl venturing nervously, 'W-What did they do when you refused them?'

Fritha shrugged. 'Well, nothing, since I didn't.'

'You're going to _go_?'

'Oh bar that, my dove,' interrupted Haer'Dalis, the man nonchalantly going back to spreading honey over a slice of bread, 'she may as well hear what they have to say.'

'_Why?_' the elf demanded shrilly, 'Whatever they offer, Fritha surely cannot be considering allying us with _vampires!_'

Jaheira turned to the girl, her manner betraying nothing of the turmoil now within her.

'Aerie does have a point.'

'So does Haer'Dalis,' Fritha countered coolly.

'Oh, no, no, no, young Fritha,' came Minsc, shaking his head and looking troubled, 'you would not have us ally with such evil creatures. Boo does not believe it.'

The girl's voice remained firm, but Jaheira noticed she could not meet the ranger's eye. 'Well, I am sorry to disappoint him, Minsc, but it changes nothing.'

Jaheira swallowed, her heart pounding; if Galvarey heard of this….

'Fritha, Imoen would not want-'

'_Imoen _isn't here,' Fritha cut in sharply, 'which is rather my problem.'

Jaheira shook her head and turned away, though Aerie was not defeated yet, the elf turning a stern look on the knight who had been silent all this time.

'Surely _you_ do not agree with this, Anomen?'

'No, I do not,' he said, sending the briefest of glances to the girl next to him, 'but the decision is not mine to make.'

'Exactly,' agreed Fritha sharply, clearly not willing to hear any more discussion on the matter, 'each of you can make your own decision about whether you want to attend or not, but I was invited to meet their guildmistress at sundown in the cemetery and I am going. In the meantime, we will just carry on with the investigations for the Lathandites and the Cowled Wizards respectively. Now Cernd is with Jaheira and I today if that is all right with everyone.'

No one answered her at first, and Jaheira could feel the fractured unrest in those about her.

'Yes, that should be fine, my lady,' said Anomen eventually, 'we can ask another priest to join us in the search if need be.'

And so after a rather subdued breakfast, the group parted once more, Minsc and the others heading back to the crypts while Fritha, Jaheira and now Cernd as well continued their search for the fugitive, Valygar. They had had little luck searching his residence the previous day and so had moved their investigation to the scene of his crime, Madeen dispatched once more to lead them to an area of derelict warehouses that bordered the river just north of the slums before the majority of the fishing trade had moved downriver to the docks.

Cernd gazed up at the wide arc of cold blue sky, glad that circumstance had led him to joining the women that day, their investigation proving a better distraction from his worries than searching those sunless crypts, where he had nothing to alleviate the boredom but going over and over Fennecia's words.

He could hardly believe Galia was dead. That he had left her was true enough but he had still cared deeply for her and it had been a blow to return to that city and find she was just gone. A grief only compounded when he considered that if perhaps had he stayed she could be alive still; just living together in the Promenade as they had been, she and him… and their child.

Cernd winced, fighting the urge to almost curl in on himself as he felt the pain stab right through him. He had a son. Sweet foolish Galia; why hadn't she told him? Why hadn't he noticed? He and Galia had been trying for a child for so long to the point where he had given up all hope, consoling himself with the idea that they were all children within Nature. But now he had one, a child of his own blood and the idea that it was being raised by someone else, that he would never see it grow and bloom, was a torture he could not describe.

But it was not over yet. Perhaps he still had a chance to right the mistakes of his past, for Galia and their child both. Jaheira had informed him yesterday of their appointment with Magistrate Bylanna Ianulin that afternoon, thoughts of this impending meeting and this chance to win back his child through the writ of law more than enough to disturb his rest without even taking into account the second night of the full moon.

He had spent long into the previous evening deep in mediation, trying to control the baser instinct that twitched within his skin, just itching to be out on the hunt. Instincts which were not limited to the nights either. For days, his senses had been building, becoming keener even for him, the slums around him now, alive with scent. Wood smoke from the nearby homes, the heavy reek of the green-grey river and even the scent of the two women next to him was not beneath his notice; Jaheira, a pleasant, more natural smell of day old clothes and leather, while the girl, Fritha, was a rush of oranges, motes of something spicy lingering just underneath.

Madeen had shown them the exact spot where the two bodies had been found, on junction between two warehouse and the riverside, before hurrying back to his duties in the Council Buildings. Cernd gazed about him, the paths between the warehouses littered with rotting crates and other debris, the contrast made in the much finer neater storehouses he could see on the other side of river. Cernd could smell blood, slight and stale on the air, though he could see no sign of it about them and he wondered vaguely why the Cowled Wizards had bothered to clean it up.

'Why on Toril were those mages out _here_?' questioned Fritha with a frown and Jaheira shrugged.

'Who knows; this place is deserted though, which would make it a good place to meet someone alone.'

Fritha nodded thoughtfully. 'Perhaps Valygar lured those two mages out here, so he could murder them without being discovered. It must have been a while before anyone found the bodies.'

Cernd watched as Jaheira noticed something, the woman moving aside some old crates to reveal grey white lines scrawled on the warehouse wall, all that was left of what had clearly been a much larger symbol. She rubbed a finger across one of the lines, the substance smudging easily.

'What is it?' came Fritha.

'Chalk' Jaheira answered promptly, raising her fingers to sniff at it, her face instantly twisting with disgust, 'and sulphur.'

Fritha looked surprised.

'Used for marking out ritual circles; they were doing a spell out here?' she questioned aloud, glancing about her at the jumble of rundown warehouses as though she couldn't think of anywhere less fitting.

Cernd frowned, turning to scan the packed earth and stones of the ground about them for any other clue and at last he found it in the shelter of the open doorway of the nearest warehouse where the ground had been protect from the weather and the tramp of careless feet.

'Over here.'

'A footprint,' came Jaheira crouching down next to him, Fritha peering over her shoulder.

'Goodness, you could fit two of mine in there. Whoever it belongs to must be tall.'

'Well, that would fit the description we have ofthe fugitive,' agreed Jaheira. Cernd merely nodded, leaning closer to the imprint. It was, as Fritha had pointed out, large, the boot it came from clearly stout with a heavy tread and there was something crushed in it too, some sort of plant matter. Carefully, Cernd freed it from the mud holding it up to the light for closer inspection.

'Hmm, a leaf,' he confirmed after a moment, showing it to the women. 'There is too little left to tell you what it came from, but it doesn't look to be local. It was probably picked up in the tread of his boot. And this,' he continued, taking up a little of the rich black mud that still clung to it to smooth it between his fingers, his years spent as a potter giving him an intuitive knowledge when it came to soils, 'do you see the tiny fragments of shell and fish bone?'

'Silt?' came Fritha and he nodded glancing up to send her a smile.

'Exactly. If this came from anywhere in Athkatla, it will have been near to the docks.'

Cernd sniffed it once before touching it to his tongue, Fritha squealing, clearly revolted.

'Oh, don't _do_ that!'

'That is odd,' he muttered, looking to Jaheira as he explained, 'the taste- it tastes of soap.'

'Oh, hear that?' said Fritha, looking up as the temple bells tolled highsun, 'We had better be heading over to the Council Buildings, our meeting is soon.'

They set off and it seemed no time at all before they were stood before the grandiose architecture of the main government building. Cernd had seen the place before, of course, though he had never had any reason to step inside until now. He followed the two women as through the great oak doors and into a wide entrance hall, two staircases and numerous other hallways and doors leading from it, clerks flitting back and forth, their urgent whispering echoing to fill the air like a nest of angry bees and only serving to make him more nervous. Something which did nothing for the more primal urges coursing through him now, his whole body twitching with the urge to lash out and flee.

Jaheira had caught one of the passing clerks, the man nodding once and the druid beckoned Fritha and himself as the youth turned to lead them along the leftmost corridor and in a flurry of customary civilities Cernd was suddenly sat before the stout, stern figure of Magistrate Ianulin.

'Good afternoon, citizens,' she greeted pleasantly, glancing up from the papers that strewed the desk between them and starting slightly as she noticed the two women, 'Ah, are you not the two who accompanied the young Lord Delryn here a month or so past now? How is he?'

Fritha glanced briefly to Jaheira, before turning to answer, 'He is well, magistrate, though his sister's death still troubles him.'

The woman nodded with a matronly sympathy.

'Yes, it can be difficult when no one is seen to pay for the crime; though I am very pleased the young man was convinced not to take the law into his own hands.' She paused a moment, letting this more sombre air hang between them a moment, before she smiled and continued, 'But what can I help you with today?

'Well…' began Fritha, the girl trailing off as she glanced to him and Cernd swallowed, very aware that this was his chance, and possibly the only one he would be given, to plead his case.

'They are here on my behalf, honourable magistrate,' he began calmly, finally reigning in his nerves and from then the magistrate listened patiently as he told his tale. And it took some time. He left out nothing baring is rather unusual heritage, though the story was such that she still had cause to raise her dark eyebrows more than once, most men leaving their wives for a mistress more mundane than the Earth Mother.

'I see,' she said eventually, leaning back in her chair slightly and frowning in a way that made Cernd tense. 'I am actually more familiar with this case than I would have first realised. Lord Deril had to inform us when he moved to officially adopt the boy as his own upon the death of his wife, your estranged spouse, Galia. Without any official records of paternity concerning the boy, it was, of course, granted. The child was taken into his household most wholly,' she added, as though the idea would be of some comfort to him, 'with rights of inheritance and lineage.'

'But he is my son! My blood!' Cernd cried, two hands instantly on each of his shoulders, the two women holding him in his chair though it hardly registered, the blood roaring in his ears as something more primal fought for control. 'I had no idea Galia was with child or I never would have left in the first instance!'

Ianulin said nothing of his outburst, perhaps understanding that in such a situation tempers would run high, though her look was unyielding and he reined in his anger with some difficultly as she continued.

'I am not without sympathy for your plight, sir, but you must understand this child is Lord Deril's under the law. Unless you can prove some neglect or the like that would show his unsuitability, then the child will remain his. And,' she continued, letting her stern gaze travel the three of them, 'that is not an excuse for you to go poking around in his affairs stirring up trouble in efforts to find something incriminating. I usually find in such cases, rare as they are, it is the child that suffers the most of all and I am sure no one here would wish for that.'

Cernd dipped his head as he fought to control the rush of emotions in his. No he did not want that and yet at the same time he yearned to see him, hold him: that child he had made with Galia, that small part of her that lived still.

xxx

Anomen rolled his shoulders, more than looking forward to getting out of his armour as he pushed open the door of the Coronet. Another day of fruitless searching was over, the crypts below the city as lifeless as the corpses that rested within them, something which would have normally pleased him, though at the moment he would have given anything for some trouble that would have led to the missing Lathandites.

The tavern was crowded, the heat from both the two large fireplaces and the press of patrons making the air stiflingly hot. It seemed they were not the first to return though and at their usual table over by the windows he could see Fritha, Cernd and Jaheira, the latter two leaned together and engaged in what appeared to be an earnest discussion, Fritha ignoring them in favour of sharing out the ale that had just been set on their table.

'Good evening,' Anomen greeted as he reached them, Fritha sending him a faint nod, while the two druids glanced up from their conversation, the woman forcing a smile as her eyes travelled them.

'Ah, you have returned; did your search meet with any more success today?'

Anomen glanced to Minsc, sharing a frown with the ranger before shaking his head, and he could feel the others about him fidgeting tiredly as he spoke, all of them eager to change their clothes and wash away the dust of that decaying place.

'No, my lady, no sign of either the child or the priests that went after him.'

Minsc nodded gravely. 'Though Boo knows it to be impossible, it is as though they all disappeared into the air.'

'Yes, well, there seems to be a lot of that going around,' sighed Fritha, 'We are still no closer to finding this Valygar fellow.'

Anomen frowned, knowing this lack of progress would only serve to encourage her towards finding an alternative path to her friend. He had not forgotten her invitation to visit the vampires was that evening; indeed, it had been plaguing him all day.

'Have we ordered our meal yet, my lady?'

Fritha shook her head, neatly avoiding any further expositions of her plans as she merely answered, 'No, not yet.'

'Then we've time to go and change before we eat?' the tiefling continued, turning to Aerie with a cheerful smile. Fritha shrugged.

'You can all do whatever you wish; I will have to go out again soon.'

'So, you are still planning to go and meet with this _guild_?' confirmed Aerie sharply, a slight flush rising in her cheeks.

'Yes, I am,' said Fritha bluntly, giving her an expectant look as though daring her to say anymore. Aerie looked as though she would as well, the girl frowning as she drew a breath to continue when Haer'Dalis caught her eye, the man shaking his head imperceptibly and the elf exhaled with an angry reluctance.

Anomen sighed deeply. Fritha was set on going, it seemed, and he knew well enough what that meant for him. He pulled out the closest chair and sank heavily into it. There was no point in returning to his room now; his armour would be needed for a time yet.

The three he left standing seemed to share a look before slowly moving to follow his example and sit as well, the maid arriving not long after with more cups and another pitcher of ale and the group sat talking of nothing and drinking just to pass the time. Fritha kept her attention firmly on her cup, Anomen suspected, so she could ignore the dark looks she no doubt sensed passing between the group as dusk fell outside the windows.

And, at last, Fritha pushed her chair back with a sigh and rose, pointedly swinging her cloak about her shoulders as she did so.

'Well, the sun is set and I must go. Is anyone else attending with me?'

A last round of disgruntled looks travelled those present before one by one they nodded and stood as well and Fritha led them out into the twilight.

Outside, the evening air was pleasantly cool after the crowded heat of the Coronet, the streets around them empty for the most part and seeming to grow emptier still as they journeyed south, skirting the edge of the temple district, headed to the cemetery that rested against the south western quarter of the city walls. Fritha led the way alone, the rest of them following in knots of twos and threes, none seemingly bothered about trying to continue talking her out of the meeting at this late stage.

Anomen glanced up as they rounded the curve of the street and, at last, the tall granite walls of the city cemetery came into view. It was really a district in its own right, the graveyard at least as large as the slums, a sprawling metropolis of mausoleums and family vaults set on narrow cobble paths like some city of the dead. It was where the rich of Athkatla spent their final rest,thepoor merely acquiring berths in the crypts under the city that were more than familiar to him now.

The group halted just before the ornately carved archway that was the entrance, Aerie pulling her cloak about her more tightly about her as a cold breeze stirred the yew trees just inside the open gates.

'So, where are we supposed to meet this guildmistress,' demanded Jaheira, casting about them with a frown.

'Well, here, I think,' offered Fritha and their group started as a voice, cold and disturbingly girlish, spoke behind them.

'Ah, you have come, Fritha.'

Anomen had whirled with the others and watched with held breath as the creature stepped from shadows of the archway to stand boldly in the bright pane of moonlight before them. 'I am pleased you decided to accept my invitation. I am Bodhi and I greet you warmly.'

She was surprisingly petite, her skin a pale lifeless grey, her hair a tangle of black that looked wild and unkempt, yet in a rather well tended way. She was wearing a dress that would have probably served most women quite well as an undergarment, the outfit little more than a tight black corset with long silken skirts that ended in tatters and wisps just above her ankles and the whole effect was one of decayed opulence, corrupted and dark.

Anomen could sense the woman's malevolence even from that distance, an aura of palpable evil washing over him as she approached them. Something he was not alone in either, the others about him all suddenly tensed, hands twitching over their weapons, Aerie clutching the holy symbol at her neck so tightly he would not have been surprised to later find its imprint pressed into her palm. Fritha, though, was either unaffected or ignoring it, the girl stepping forward to dip a slight bow as she replied politely, 'I accept your welcome, Bodhi. Parisa said you have an offer for us.'

Bodhi smiled at this mention of her servant, revealing two neat rows of pointed ivory teeth and Anomen had to fight against the impulse to pull Fritha away from her.

'That is so. I understand you are collecting monies to secure the rescue of your missing companion, Imoen, and I also wish to offer my aid in the task. My offer is simple, I can obtain for you her location and will even arrange for your transport there for the sum of five thousand gold pieces.'

Fritha frowned slightly and Anomen suspected her suspicions matched his own. He had been sure they would have some foul task to perform in return for such aid.

'That is it? Just coin?' the girl questioned, her eyes narrowing, 'What would someone like yourself need with gold?'

Bodhi smiled wryly. 'I fear my reasons are my own until you decide where your loyalties lie. Now, do we have an agreement?'

'I,' Fritha began, clearly feeling the eyes of those behind her boring into her back. She sighed. 'I will need to think on it.'

Bodhi inclined her head slightly in acceptance of this.

'As you will, but remember, Fritha, my patience is not limitless. Return here in three days with your answer. Farewell.'

Bodhi turned to walk away, seeming to fade as she did so, merging to the shadows of the cemetery until she was gone. Wordlessly, Fritha turned to lead them northwards once more and it seemed they were streets away before the darkness of the vampire's presence was finally banished, the group breathing a collective sigh of relief.

'Well,' began Jaheira sharply, the first to break the spellbound silence Bodhi had left hanging over them. 'Are you _still _so keen on working with them?'

Her question had an almost rhetorical air, borne with the slight smugness as of one expecting a vehement about-face on her previous stance, but Fritha merely shrugged.

'No more or less keen than I was before. Her offer was worthy of consideration.'

Jaheira seemed to tower over the girl. 'Fritha, you cannot be serious! If you will not be swayed by the obvious _evil_ of what you would be allying with, considered then the sum we have already paid to Gaelen!'

'Oh, Gaelen,' laughed Fritha tiredly, 'I do love how he's suddenly become our saviour now.' She turned to send her a shrewd look, 'None of us know who _he's_ working for.'

'No,' agreed Minsc evenly, 'but Boo says, it would be most difficult for them to be worse than these vampires.'

Fritha smiled wryly, dipping her head in acquiescence. 'Perhaps so, but Gaelen still needs another ten thousand gold before he'll help. Bodhi is offering her aid for half that.'

'But-!'came Aerie, and Fritha halted abruptly, something about her manner hardening.

'Look, I said I would think about it and I will! Ten thousand gold pieces is a vast amount of money; it could take months to raise it, especially now the winter is upon us.'

Aerie did not look very happy at having the discussion so firmly ended and neither did Jaheira, though they were left no further chance to continue.The group had stopped at a crossroads in the slums, the eastern street leading back to the Coronet though Anomen could tell by the way she stood apart from them that Fritha had no intention of taking it.

'Right, I'll see you lot later,' the girl said, confirming his suspicions. Anomen sent her a concerned frown.

'You are not returning to the inn, my lady?'

'No, I think I'll go out for a bit.'

'Out _where_?' snapped Jaheira and Fritha sighed tiredly.

'Oh, I don't know, anywhere but here.'

Jaheira sent her a stern look and the girl threw up her hands in frustrated defeat. 'The theatre then!'

And before any other complaint could be made, Fritha turned to march off in the opposite direction, Haer'Dalis sharing a whispered exchange with Aerie before jogging after her.

'Wait, I shall join you, my raven.'

The girl nodded curtly, allowing him to link arms with her and Anomen watched them until they were swallowed by the shadows.

xxx

That first blast of cold night air felt wonderful against his face and neck as Haer'Dalis practically fell through the tavern doorway, Fritha at his heels, the pair of them flushed and laughing.

They had not bothered attending the theatre in the end, Fritha having no desire to meet Higgold only to be forced to listen to the director's latest ream of woes, and Haer'Dalis had instead led them to a tavern just south of the Promenade that he had once visited with his friends from the Sigil troupe. The Gilded Lion was a small welcoming place that often had music even if it did not have the room for dancing. Its lively atmosphere was good for lifting the spirits or drowning one's sorrows both, something he had discovered first hand; Raelis's rejection hard to bear even to the end.

Fritha was stood next to him now, drawing in deep cool lungfuls with the same appreciation he had, her blue woollen coat hanging loose and open, both of them with their cloaks slung over their bags, the ale they had drunk more than fortifying them against the night's cold.

'Be careful, there you two,' rumbled the guard kindly as he moved to shut the door behind them, Fritha sending him a smile that could have lit the whole street.

'We will. Goodnight, sir.'

Haer'Dalis grinned as well, though for a completely different reason, the man drawing in a theatrical gasp as they set off down the darkened street.

'Fritha, did you just wink at him?'

Fritha did the impossible as she flushed even pinker. '_Of course not!_'

'Really, my raven, half a pint of cider and you become the most appalling flirt.'

'_Haer'Dalis!_' she shrieked, unable to actually continue her protestations for laughing and Haer'Dalis joined her in the gesture, the girl's amusement infectious. That he loved Aerie most wholly was true enough, but she did not laugh like Fritha, with such careless joy. Her laughter had finally faded now, the girl grinning she skipped forward a few steps and began to dance to the tune she was singing.

'_Tujhe dekha to yeh jaana, sanam. Pyaar hota hai deewana, sanam.'_

Her movements were sharp and angular in the Calimshite style; hips, shoulders and head all bobbing to a beat only she could hear, the girl dancing along the street before him tracing patterns in the air with her hands as she pretended to shyly serenade him with her song of love.

'_Ahhhhhh, la la la, la la la,_ _meri aankhon mein aansu tere aa gaye, muskuraane lage saare gha-_'

She stopped suddenly, dropping back to walk next to him once more just as a pair of city watchmen stepped round the corner before them, the two pairs exchanging a polite nod as they passed, Fritha and the bard instantly dissolving into whispery laughter as soon as they were safely around the corner.

'Ah, my raven,' he sighed, fondly ruffling her hair, 'you are wasted on this plane.'

'No, no, give me a couple more rounds yet,' she quipped wryly and he smiled.

'Oh, very amusing; you know of what I speak. You could be a dancer or a musician of the highest skill, and instead you must waste your talents mouldering away this city.'

'Don't,' she said quietly, her smile suddenly replaced with a painfully empty look, 'don't say things like that. We both know thinking about it won't make it any different; we all could have been someone else…'

'And you could be her still,' Haer'Dalis pressed earnestly, 'after all this has passed. You would make quite the dancer, my raven.' He paused a moment, wondering if he should continued, before- 'I know Nalia thought so and she had enjoyed formal instruction in the art.'

Fritha looked to him sharply. 'She told you that?'

'Yes, on that first evening when you danced together in the Coronet, when those minstrels from the Dales were playing. She said she thought you had a soul for it, and no amount of lessons can afford you that.'

Fritha had turned away again and though he could not see her face, he suspected she was not smiling. 'Do you still miss her?'

The girl shrugged and nodded, glancing to him again as she continued, 'I am glad, though, that she is not here to see what must come… I think I would find my decision a much harder one to make if she were to look upon me with the same disappointment I see from the others.'

'You have decided your course then?'

She nodded, her eyes staring out at a point far ahead them in the darkness. 'Yes, I think so.'

'Ah, my raven, do not fret,' he sighed, putting an arm about her shoulders, 'whatever your choice, this sparrow will remain at your side.'

The contact seemed to bring her round slightly, the girl smiling, her eyes soft.

'You are very kind, Haer'Dalis. I appreciate this, you know, you coming out with me of an evening; it helps…' He watched as she raised her face to the inky sky, though her eyes were closed. 'Everything feels different at night, like the days are just a dream: a nightmare of hopes and struggles that I must endure until the sun sets and the glare is finally gone from the world, and I can be myself in the darkness it leaves behind.' She dropped her face to gaze at him again, her eyes fixed on his with that same soft look. 'Like I am only alive when I am out with you.'

He smiled slightly. 'Jasmine is not the only flower that blooms at night.'

A tense silence seemed to hold them, the moment hanging timeless between them, until the slight twitching in the edge of her lip was involuntarily mirrored by his own and the pair bust into raucous laughter.

'By Milil, that was _dreadfu_l, even for you!'

'Oh, forgive me, my raven,' he laughed, feeling warm in their uncomplicated camaraderie, 'I am, before all else, a poet.'

'Well, I have every sympathy for Aerie if that is the usual rubbish you spout,' Fritha giggled, lightly slapping his cheek as she continued with a sigh. 'Ah, I love it when you've been drinking, you get all flushed; it looks _so _adorable.'

Haer'Dalis grinned. He had been called striking, handsome, even _beautiful_ before now, but never adorable. He rather liked it.

'Come along, my raven,' he laughed, throwing an arm about her once more, 'pick a song to get us home on.'

Fritha drew a breath and began, the bard joining her a bar later and together they returned to the slums just as they had left them, arm in arm.

xxx

Anomen sank onto his bed with a sigh, the room lit on by the low fire that flickered in the grate, throwing dancing shadows about the room. His armour was finally off and his clothes changed, though this was hardly the relief it would have been _before_ they had attended the graveyard. Anomen closed his eyes, hearing her words again, tired but firm.

'_I will need to think on it.'_

He could not deny it; a part of him had hoped Fritha would refuse outright once that vampire had made her appearance, though it had been foolish of him to think she would. Fritha had met with their ilk before, if she was willing to attend the vampires in the first instance she would no doubt wish to hear their offer. And then it had come to light just _what _Bodhi was offering and Anomen had felt his heart sink.

And so the girl was _'considering it'_ and Anomen could only pray she decided against it because he knew what his path would be should she choose to change their allegiance…

But such thoughts did nothing and Anomen had just stirred himself into lighting the lamps in order to do some reading when there was a knock at his door, the man opening it on Aerie, the elf looking slight and troubled stood before his open doorway.

'I am sorry for disturbing you like this,' she apologised as he invited her in, letting her take the chair at the fireplace as he sank down on to the hearthrug opposite her. 'I just could not bear another moment alone in my room. I keep going over and over it all in my mind: what will happen to our group if Fritha allies us with those vampires, can I put aside my beliefs for my loyalties to her? After all, she saved my life and everyone at the circus too, and all she does is for her poor imprisoned friend. But then I think of what we will be doing. To ally with such creatures is against every fibre of my being! And so my thoughts go back and forth until I feel as though I will run mad.' She sent him a sad half-smile, 'You must think me very foolish.'

Anomen shook his head.

'No, Aerie, I do not. There is not one of us does not feel similarly, for it is an unkind situation in which we find ourselves.' He sighed, smiling wryly as he cast his mind back to the sewer tunnel what felt like a lifetime ago now. 'Ah,I ever was a fool. Do you recall once long ago me lecturing you on this matter, how we were this group's _moral compass_ and there would come a time when it would fall to us to ensure our company remained on the right path. And now look at me.'

'But it is good that you feel such indecision, Anomen,' Aerie assured him with conviction, 'it shows that you care for both your own morals and your duties to Fritha, as I do.'

Anomen almost laughed, feeling both hopeless and elated at the same time.

'But do you not see, Aerie? There is no indecision. I knew in my heart the moment Fritha said she would meet with them, that if she decides to work with the vampires I will stay. There would be no way I could leave her then; allying herself with that nest of vipers, it would be then that she would need me the most.'

Aerie looked both shocked and awed by his admission.

'But Anomen, surely the Order would frown on such a course; you would risk losing all that you have worked for, all you've achieved?'

He shrugged loosely, his voice quiet. 'I would not have achieved what I have without her help, perhaps it is fitting.'

Aerie just shook her head, seemingly unable to reply to this and after a moment, she sighed, turning to gaze blankly into the fire.

'I must admit, this change in our alliance is not the only thing that troubles me. I can understand your reasoning. Indeed, I understand Fritha's even though I do not agree with it, but Haer'Dalis's… He goes along with it all so willingly, not even a word of caution or reluctance, as though he does not even care that we could be allied to such evil.'

'That he does not seem to be against it is true enough, my lady, but he does not speak in favour of the alliance either,' Anomen reasoned, though more for her peace of mind than any real belief it was so, 'Perhaps he merely follows as we do, and keeps any reservations silent out of his regard for Fritha- I am sorry, my lady, I did not mean-' he added, suddenly worried at how that would have sounded but the elf just waved his words away.

'No, no, I understand. After all, what is the point in complaining if you intend to go along with it anyway? Fritha isn't a fool. She understands the risks and consequences as well as any of us.'

A silence seemed to fall between them a moment and though Anomen suspected he already knew her answer he asked her regardless.

'And what will you do, my lady?'

'If we agree to work for the vampires?' Aerie confirmed, before she sighed deeply. 'I could return to the circus perhaps. Ah, I don't know, I really don't.' She turned to him, her blue eyes suddenly bright with hope. 'Anomen, what do you think Fritha would do if we _all_ refused to ally with them?'

'I believe she would continue her path without us. She would not have made the decision lightly; if she chose such a course, I believe she would see it as the only way and see it through to the conclusion.'

'_Alone?'_

Anomen smiled slightly at her naivety. 'There is nothing stopping Fritha gathering together another group, Aerie, just as she once gathered together this one.'

And for a moment he imagined it, the torture of no longer being in her company, all his contact with Fritha reduced to those chance occasions when they would meet in the city, where they would perhaps nod and exchange a few polite words before parting ways once more, returning to their own lives, forever divided.

'Do you imagine Haer'Dalis and Fritha talk about _us_ like this?' asked Aerie, breaking though his reverie and Anomen smiled.

'I sincerely doubt it, my lady. They are likely too busy enjoying themselves. I-'

He stopped as something just on the edge of his hearing caught his attention. A familiar pair of voices, lifted in song, were echoing along the street outside. Anomen rose and crossed to the window, Aerie close behind him and they watched as Fritha and Haer'Dalis finally strolled into view.

'_The bee shall honey taste no more, the dove becomes a ranger; the falling waters cease to roar, ere I shall seek to change her._'

They did not seem particularly drunk though they certainly looked to be in good spirits, Haer'Dalis holding one of her hands as Fritha danced along next to him, occasionally twirling herself under his arm.

'_The vow we made to heav'n above shall ever cheer and bind me. In constancy to her I love, the girl I left behind me._'

The final note was lost in a shriek as Haer'Dalis swept her up into his arms to spin her around, Fritha screaming shrilly before it soon descended into her warm laughter.

'By the planes, my raven,' he huffed, hefting her in his arms, 'you must weigh a full long ton!'

'No, I don't, you cheeky git!' she laughed, cuffing his shoulder for good measure, 'Now put me down.'

He obliged her just as the pair disappeared behind the edge of the window frame to continue on down the street. Aerie stepped back from the window, her voice quiet.

'I should retire; it must be late if they're returned.'

Anomen nodded once, half his attention still on the pane before him.

'Goodnight, my lady.'

xxx

Aerie was sat on the large plain bed absently pulling a comb through her hair, eyes drifting over her room, neat and familiar in the soft glow of the lamps;spellbooks stacked upon on the dresser, robes draped tidily over the back of her chair. She was already wearing the shift she planned to sleep in, though she had no intention of going to bed, not yet anyway.

That last morning in Trademeet seemed a lifetime ago now, awaking next to Haer'Dalis in the dawn still. So much had passed between them since that morning; she had learnt of his mother and perhaps more than she would have liked of his Doomguard philosophies and though they had argued more than once, the bond between them had felt all the stronger for it and now…

Now something had surfaced between them that could part them forever, because Haer'Dalis seemed more than happy to accompany Fritha on her alliance with the vampires and it was a path Aerie was not sure she could ever agree to walking with them.

And there it was finally, the knock at the door she had been waiting for, and Aerie called out without a thought.

'Come in.'

The door opened, Haer'Dalis peering around it to finally find her on the bed, his face lighting with a smile.

'Ah, you are already retired, my dove? I will merely wish you a good night then.'

'Yes, goodnight,' she sighed, unable to keep the terseness from her voice and she watched his smile fade, the man seeming to know she was unhappy and entering without invitation to sink on to the bed next to her.

'Are you angry with me, my dove? I am back in good time and not deep in my cups.' He frowned slightly, 'Are you displeased I accompanied the raven tonight? You said you did not mind when I asked you earlier.'

Aerie shook her head, recalling their whispered conversation on that darkened street as Fritha walked away from them. Haer'Dalis had wanted to accompany the girl, to 'keep her from herself' as he had put it, and Aerie had been glad to let him go, knowing Fritha would have likely refused anyone but the bard.

'No, I am not cross you went with Fritha, I am just...' She trailed off with a sigh, finding it hard to put her worries into words and in the end she just asked bluntly, 'Haer'Dalis, why do you want us to join with the vampires?'

The tiefling looked mildly surprised. 'What makes you think I do?'

'From your complete lack of protest!' she snapped, annoyed that he seemed to be avoiding answering. 'Has it something to do with you being a Doomguard? That you feel you should embrace the most destructive course.'

Haer'Dalis frowned again, slowly shaking his head.

'No, my philosophies have no bearing on my decision. I do not protest against this proposed alliance, my dove, simply because I do not care; who we finally work for is not what I deem of importance at this time.' He smiled slightly. 'I can see the abhorrence in your eyes at this admission, Aerie, but think on it another way. Fritha has been offered the thing she desire most at a price which is on the verge of being too high for her and now she is faced with a difficult decision between her oldest friend and her own conscience. Anyone can see she needs support, but you are all too busy disapproving and trying to tell her what she should do to lend it to her. But this sparrow trusts her judgement. I have not forgotten that she saved the lives of me and my friends both and if she wishes to work with vampires then she need not convince me, I will follow.'

Aerie watched him looking back at her with quiet conviction and she felt suddenly tearful. She always seemed to assume the worst of his actions before finding out his reasons. She sighed heavily.

'Oh, why does everything have to be like this? At least before all our troubles were on the outside, things we could face together. But lately it seems as though all our troubles have come from within. First Nalia left, and now this threatens to split our group in two.'

'There now, my dove,' Haer'Dalis soothed gently, 'do not distress yourself over things which have yet to come to pass; whatever course you decide, _our_ alliance need not end because of it. Here, let me.' He took the comb from her hand, moving behind her slightly to continue brushing her hair and she pulled away instinctively. Haer'Dalis frowned. 'Why do you shy from me, Aerie?'

Aerie swallowed. She knew well her reasoning, but she was not sure she was ready for him to understand it. She glanced to him, his eyes searching her face with a pained look and in the end she relented.

'I- my back, there are scars where my wings were…' She lifted her hair briefly to show him, her face half-turned to see his reaction, though his expression was unreadable. 'See?'

'Yes, I see, my dove.'

She heard him sigh, the man gently laying his face against the back of her head and she could feel his breath stirring her hair, the question that had been pressing on her for a while now forming on her lips. 'Haer'Dalis, what- what do you think of them?'

'Think of them?' he repeated, sweeping aside the curtain of hair to look over them again and Aerie felt him lightly trace a finger over them, 'I like them.'

'You_ like_ them?'

'Not how you got them or the loss you associate with them, but the scars themselves, I like them. Flaws can be beautiful, my dove. They show where you have been, what you have done. A wise person once said you cannot be angry with your past if you like who you are in the present; you change your past, even for the better, and you are a different person.'

'But-But you _like _them?' Aerie said again, his talk of twisted beauty making her feel slightly sick.

'Well, you would prefer if I found them abhorrent?' he snapped tersely, finally losing his temper with her, 'By the Lady's Shadow, Aerie, what do you want from me?'

She shook her head, melancholy again. 'I don't know. I'm sorry, please stay.'

'For what? So, we can lie together again and then tomorrow you can push me even further away? I do no understand, Aerie.'

'Neither do I. I-' She trailed off. How could she explain it to him? That feeling she had sometimes as though there were some unbridgeable gulf between them. 'I just feel so different from you. The way you view the world; where I see horrors, you see marvels. Those things you have experienced, with your mother and- and your past, they must be the root of it. If we could just talk about it-'

'And how would that help? You would have me dredge up things which are best left forgotten, my dove.'

'Oh, I see,' she snapped, losing her temper herself, 'my scars are beautiful, but yours must be kept hidden.'

Haer'Dalis flushed and for the first time she could remember he looked uncomfortable.

'It does not matter how I came to be,' he began eventually, his voice quiet, 'only that I am; remembering my past will not transform it.' He sent her a measured look, 'I cannot change who I am, Aerie.'

'No, I know and I would not want you to,' she assured him promptly, trying to will the truth of it into her heart. Aerie sighed deeply, knowing from experience she was getting nowhere. 'Ah, I am tired, let us talk of this no more now.' She laid a hand upon his arm. 'Please stay, we don't have to- well, I just want to be with you.'

Haer'Dalis looked at her a long while, eyes searching her face before he sighed tiredly and nodded.

'Ah, I never could deny you. Here,' he said, pulling back the blankets, 'lie down.'

She did as he asked, watching as he put out the lamp and removed his boots and belt before lying down next to her. And there she lay in the darkness, listening to his breathing steady and deepen as sleep claimed him.


	59. A song of snakes

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

_Author's note: As always, thank you to my betas, Drew and Maje, and special thanks go to arabellaesque for her help with this and subsequent chapters; the feedback was greatly appreciated._

**A song of snakes**

Anomen watched the group about him, their table a small pocket of calm in the disorder and noise of the common room, warm sunlight already pouring through the windows. It seemed they were all up much later than usual that morning and the Coronet was busier for it, the room buzzing with guests from the inn as well as labourers and tradesmen from the surrounding slums, all taking their first, for some perhaps, only meal of the day.

But the increase in patrons meant the service was slow to say the least, the three waitresses being kept more than busy bringing meals from the kitchens and Jaheira had disappeared off to the bar some time ago to place their order there in a bid to ensure they were served sometime before noon.

Around the table, everyone seemed ill-rested, last night's meeting and the group's suddenly uncertain future in light of the vampires' offer giving them all much to think on once they had retired. Cernd looked grey with tiredness, though the man had confessed earlier that the three days around the full moon always took their toll upon him. Minsc too seemed uncharacteristically tired, the ranger watching the bustle about them with a distant look and Aerie was paler than usual, though it was not something that was affecting everyone, it seemed. Fritha and Haer'Dalis were sat next to each other and recounting their evening, the pair laughing and half-finishing each other's sentences in a companionable way that made Anomen feel unreasonably cross.

'Oh, oh, and do you remember those two who accosted us at the bar?'

'How could I forget, my raven, the wan fellow and his friend with the moustache-'

'Oh, that one who looked like a walrus!'

'I can barely believe he asked you to dance.'

'Ah, he wasn't so bad, a bit lecherous, I suppose.'

'You _suppose_? What was it he said to you?' Haer'Dalis deepened his voice in sonorous pomposity, '_Well, my dear-_'

'_You certainly are a fine young filly!_' they chorused, Fritha dissolving into laughter, Haer'Dalis smiling darkly.

'The odious dog, that he should even _dare_ speak to you so.'

'So, you had a nice time last night then?' came Aerie quickly, the sharpness of her interruption rather at odds with her carefree tone, 'Where did you go, the Waterdeep Package again?'

The pair laughed merrily.

'_Packet_, Aerie,' correct Haer'Dalis, sending her a fond smile and Aerie looked suddenly flushed, 'The tavern is called _The Waterdeep Packet_.'

'It means the mail boat,' added Fritha brightly.

'Oh, I see,' the elf muttered and Anomen frowned, turning away from them and wondering vaguely where Jaheira had got to with the tea. He could see the woman through the press, stood at the bar and having what looked to be a rather heated discussion with the portly bald innkeep, Bernard. Finally, the man held up his hands as though to indicate he was not the person at whom she should be directing her ire and the woman snatched up the tray to march back to them.

'Here,' she announced, passing out cups, an airiness to her voice that sounded brittle though the others did not seem to notice it, Fritha glancing up with a smile.

'Finally! Where did you go for it- Kara-Tur?'

'If you want it any quicker in future, get it yourself!' the druid snapped promptly. Fritha sighed, reaching for the teapot.

'Sorry, Jaheira, I was only joking.'

Jaheira slammed the last cup down with force enough to crack it. 'Yes, just as you always do!' When will you realise that your behaviour has consequences?'

Fritha sent the woman a bland look before dropping her attention to her tea, resigned, it seemed, to the woman's temper, Haer'Dalis leaning in to whisper some comfort at her ear as Aerie nervously offered to get the woman a new cup.

'Here we are,' announced the maid as she at last appeared at their table, sounding cheerful though tired with it, the girl swiftly setting a large steaming pot of porridge in the centre and stack of bowls and spoons in Aerie's empty place, 'And I can see you've your tea already, but do shout if you need anything further.'

She turned and was gone in the blink of an eye.

'We will never see her again,' murmured Haer'Dalis, sending the red-haired girl next to him a smile which only broadened as Aerie arrived back at the table and they finally began their breakfast.

It seemed it was to be another sombre affair though, people only speaking to ask for more tea or various condiments and Anomen found himself wishing they could manage to have just _one _breakfast that did not involve a quarrel; if nothing else, it was very bad for the digestion.

'So, where does our investigation lead us today?' asked Cernd finally as he finished the last of his porridge and pushed the bowl away from him, his eyes moving between Fritha and Jaheira clearly, thinking this would be the opening that would reconcile them. The druid looked instantly uncomfortable, a slight flush rising in her tanned cheeks.

'I am afraid our investigation will have to wait; I have somewhere I must be.'

'_Wait_?' repeated Fritha, the first time she had spoken since their crossed words a good half hour ago, 'What could be more important than this? The sooner we find out where this Valygar is hiding, the sooner we can get Imoen back!'

'Fritha!' the woman snapped, though she was given no chance for whatever excuse she intended to make, the girl suddenly on her feet and grabbing up her cloak.

'Fine, then Cernd and I will go by ourselves!'

The man sent a tired look between the two women before standing with a sigh and the pair left with a very curt 'Farewell'. Jaheira ate the rest of her breakfast in silence, the woman glaring about the table as though daring them to say something, though she remained disappointed and it was not long after that she departed too.

Minsc shook his head as the door slammed shut.

'Ah, Boo, I agree: too many arguments for so early in the day. Come, friends,' he smiled, looking round at them all as he made to rise himself, 'let us to the tombs.'

xxx

Jaheira stood silent before the polished oak desk that she was unfortunately familiar with, the lean form of Galvarey sat on the other side, gimlet eyes staring up at her from beneath a crop of dark brown hair. He had not said a word since he had bade her enter a few moments ago, perhaps hoping the silence would unnerve her enough to begin a rambled explanation of herself, though Jaheira knew this tactic well enough and remained silent. Such paths only led to self-incrimination.

'So,' he began eventually, leaning back in his seat so as to get a better view of her face, 'your leader, Fritha, is in alliance with vampires.'

Jaheira felt every muscle in her body tense in an effort to keep her expression neutral in the face of her overwhelming dread. She had just known what this summons, so prompt in its coming, was to be about. That stupid girl! She played in a game where she did not even know of half the players!

_And whose fault is that?_

Jaheira quelled this turmoil to send Galvarey a mild look.

'And why would you say that?'

Galvarey snorted. 'Come now, Jaheira, do not bother to lie for her, your group was seen last night arriving at the cemetery and meeting a contact from the Vampires' Guild.'

'So you freely admit we are being followed!' Jaheira snapped, feeling a small swell of triumph at Galvarey's unsettled look. '_And_,' she continued archly, 'if the Harpers know of a such a guild within this city, I would ask why they are not setting themselves most wholly against it.'

Galvarey flushed with anger, though his voice remained calm, albeit curt.

'These are matters more complex than you realise and the guild so far has only concerned itself with the Shadow Thieves.'

Jaheira snorted humourlessly, not bothering to hide her contempt. 'You mean you will hang back and wait for one to wipe out the other before you move in to finish the thing.'

'_And as_ for you being followed,' continued Galvarey, pointedly ignoring her last comment, 'one could say such is justified considering the company your leader would keep! Has she allied you with the vampires?'

'No, it was merely a meeting. They offered to help her to retrieve the friend I told you of, Imoen.'

'And will Fritha accept their offer?'

And here for the first time Jaheira hesitated. Well, would she?

'She says she is considering it, but I do not think so,' the druid answered eventually, though she might as well as not have bothered with the last part, Galvarey's body suddenly rigid in his seat, the man staring up at her open mouthed.

'_Considering it_?'

'You do not understand, Galvarey,' Jaheira continued, unable to keep the pleading tone from her voice now, 'she has been working these last two months to retrieve her friend and is barely halfway. If you could only ask the seniors to use their influence-'

The man cut her off with a shake of his head.

'I have already asked them; their resources are all spoken for at this time. But that does not make this alliance any less abhorrent.' He sighed deeply, staring up at her, his eyes grave. 'This is very disturbing, Jaheira. You assured me she is not a threat and now this… you understand I am going to have to inform the seniors of this development.' He shook his head again before dropping his attention back to the papers on his desk, 'Dismissed.'

Jaheira stood there a moment, breathing heavily, everything she wanted to scream at him rushing through her mind before she turned on her heel and marched out. In the hallway, Dermin was just where she had left him, the man straightening as he saw her and finding it hard to match her pace as she stalked along the corridor to clatter down the stairwell back to the main hall.

'Jaheira- Jaheira, what did he say?'

'That the girl is no more than a monster! I cannot believe he tries to justify his actions!' She paused at the foot of stairs to whirl on him suddenly, 'Did you know we were being followed?'

Dermin looked shocked, slowly shaking his head.

'Followed? N-No, I did not. Jaheira, now calm down, this will help no one,' he pleaded as she turned to continue her furious pace, the woman marching across the main hall heading straight for the exit.

'Help? Ha!' she barked to a faded blue sky as she threw open the doors and stalked out on to the quays, finally halting her march to turn to her friend. 'This situation has gone far beyond that I fear, driven by a man's desire for power, rather than to do what is right. Galvarey intends to report all this to the seniors, though not without his own _slant_, I should not wonder.'

Dermin frowned, looking concerned. 'Well, look at it from his point of view, Jaheira; it must seem worrying. He assured the seniors that Fritha was not a threat and now this happens.'

'She is not a threat!'

He sent her a grave look.

'Jaheira, you know her better than anyone; will she ally herself with the vampires?'

'No!' she snapped, wrestling with herself before finally crying, 'Oh, I do not know! I could not say so before, in front of Galvarey, but even the fact she is considering it worries me, Dermin. Yet, I do not know what to do. She keeps herself so closed off from everyone. She lost Imoen, and now Nalia, another who was close to her, recently quit our company and yet again she is left without someone to confide in.'

'She has you-' soothed Dermin, Jaheira cutting him dead with a bitter snort.

'Me? Oh, yes and what a friend I am, constantly reporting on her to Galvarey!' She sighed deeply and shook her head, resigned to feeling bad about this for a while yet. 'I am sorry, Dermin, I should go.'

He nodded kindly and embraced her, the firm contact calming her slightly before they parted, the woman heading for the stone steps that led up to the next terrace and by the time she had glanced back Dermin had already gone, disappeared into the gloom of the hold.

xxx

Cernd focused on his breathing, just as Gragus had taught him to those many moons ago when he was newly arrived at the grove and first trying to control the wolf that now shared his skin. These last few days had been difficult and though the fact they had coincided with the full moon had hardly helped, Cernd knew such revelations would not have been easy to bear at any time. Before he had been so s_ure_ of everything; who he was and his place in the world and the greater balance that existed between all things, and now…

He and Jaheira talked about it yesterday after their meeting with the magistrate, the woman assuring him that they would not give up just yet and there were still other avenues to be looked into, but for all that, Jaheira had not looked hopeful.

It was that same afternoon that they had, despite the magistrate's warning to the contrary, returned to the northwest of the city to search for Deril's estate, Fritha stopping some Watchmen in the street and getting directions by pretending to be on the way to visit her sister, a maid of his household. It was a solemn looking place of grey stone, the high walls shielding what looked to be a grandiose house within. The property was set along one side of a large park where many seemed to flock, couples walking arm in arm, clerks enjoying some welcome fresh air with their noon meals, while nurses gossiped over the clack, clack, clack of knitting needles, half an eye always on their young charges as they shrieked and played. Cernd and the women had stayed there a good couple of hours, just sat beneath the trees watching the estate, but the only change was when a man, old but hale in look, left in a carriage and none of them had known enough to tell whether it had been Deril or just a visitor to his house.

Cernd sighed, even the cirrus-streaked field of blue above not calming him as it once would have. Perhaps Magistrate Ianulin had been right. The life he led now was not one in which he could raise a child; perhaps he was better off growing up within this noble's household and he imagined the boy more grown, playing in the park as the other children had been, unmindful of their fine clothes or the fussing of their nurses as they jumped and ran. But every time Cernd considered even giving up on the boy- such pain! It was as though his whole body cried out against it.

He glanced to the girl next to him ready to distract himself, Fritha setting a brisk pace through the slums, her previous argument with Jaheira clearly fuelling the march. That the woman had so promptly abandoned their investigations had intrigued him and he had been speculating since the incident who could command such loyalty of her. Fritha clearly knew, considering her lack of questions on the matter that morning, and Cernd wondered if vaguely if all in their company had such secrets.

'So, have you and Jaheira travelled together long?' he began circuitously, finally breaking the silence between them, the girl not sparing him a glance as she answered.

'Since the spring.'

'Oh, I see -not as long as I would have thought… and how did you meet?'

Fritha turned to him, seemingly irritated by his questions. 'Look, no offence, but hasn't she told you all this sort of thing already?'

'Well, no, she was always rather reluctant to discuss you.'

Fritha snorted, turning back to their path. 'Well, I'm not exactly feeling particularly inclined to discuss _her_ at the moment either.'

Cernd sighed to himself. The girl was clearly not in the mood for small talk. If he wanted to get anywhere, he may as well just ask her.

'Where will Jaheira have gone today?'

Fritha shrugged indifferently.

'To meet others of her kind.'

'Druids?'

'Not quite.'

Cernd frowned. He was not going to get to the source of this mystery any time soon and turned his attention back to one the subject the girl was likely willing to discuss.

'So, where _does _our investigation lead us today?'

Fritha sighed, halting her march to draw up a cord from beneath her tunic, an old iron key slowly spinning on the end.

'This is the only thing of note we found at the fugitive's house.'

She allowed him to take it from her hand, the girl edging closer that he could better examine it without strangling her.

'There's something stamped on to it,' he said, letting his fingers run lightly over the raised letters. Fritha nodded, taking it back to return safely beneath her tunic.

'Yes, and I was hoping it was the name of the locksmiths who made it.'

'A reasonable assumption. You plan to ask around them, I assume.'

'Exactly,' she agreed, already moving to continue her march, 'which means today our investigation leads us to the Promenade.'

And so that was where they went. There were three locksmiths in and around Waukeen's Promenade and another one on the edge of the Bridge district, but unfortunately none had heard of a workshop with the name of _anything _and Wellings, though, as many had reminded them, if the key was to a large chest or strongbox, it may not have necessarily been made in Athkatla.

The pair had just left the last workshop, the street a bustle of patrons and traders as they found themselves on the edge of the main bridge, the cries of gulls and street-vendors competing in a relentless cacophony. Heavy white clouds were rushing overhead, moving in from the west, the salt on the air mixing with stagnant reek of the river beneath them as it slowly flowed towards the harbour.

Fritha was leant against the nearby wall staring down into the churning waters and Cernd could see she was disheartened by their failure. He took a step closer, leaning over the bridge as she was to gaze down at the jumble of wooden quays and shacks that clung like limpets to the stone supports, a scatting boats bobbing at their moorings.

'I am sorry we have yet to find the answers you seek.'

Fritha sighed, turning to send him a rueful smile.

'Ah, such is life. I mean, it's not much of a clue anyway, is it? It could be as Jaheira says; just some old key that even this Valygar fellow doesn't know what it opens.' She sighed again, the smile fading, her face taking on an intense look as she stared down at the key she held, 'But… but then I hold it in my hand and I can just feel it, its importance… She's so close now and all I need to do is find this man and perhaps she'll be returned to me.'

Jaheira had at least told him of this interesting twist to their greater goal and Cernd knew exactly to whom Fritha was referring.

'Was Imoen with you when you met Jaheira in the spring?'

Fritha glanced to him, seemingly deciding how to answer before she nodded once.

'Yes, though not by design. She grew up with me -in Candlekeep, of all places. But this spring came and with it troubles and Gorion, my foster father, thought it for the best that we leave the fortress for a time. We were on our way to meet Jaheira and her husband, Khalid, when we were attacked. Gorion was killed though I escaped into the night and the next day it was Imoen who found me. She had heard of the attack and willingly left the safety of Candlekeep in order to help me then, when I needed it the most.'

'And now you mean to do the same for her.'

Fritha smiled wryly. 'That's the plan. Though, to be honest with you I'm rather stuck at the moment,' she sighed, looking at least a little more cheerful as she straightened, tidying the key away back under her clothes. 'Come on, we can go to the theatre and think on this some more.'

The Five Flagons was barely a stone's throw away and it was not long before they were in the common room, the girl calling a greeting to Samuel as they passed, before she led them down the stairs into the depths of her theatre. Cernd had never been to a playhouse and he did not really know what he had been expecting though whatever it had been, it paled next to the change he noticed in Fritha.

Throughout the time he had spent in her company he had noted that, whatever the situation that arose, she had always carried herself with a certain confidence, as though she were comfortable in whatever situation life placed her in. But now…

It was like watching a bird who had been hopping so neatly about the grass suddenly take flight, the effortless way she moved through the gloom of her theatre exchanging easy greetings with those that she passed, as though the troubles of the day were no more than memories, and Cernd could see that the playhouse was much more than just a business to her; it was a home.

'Hello, Ketrick, how's your back today?'

'Not too bad, milady.'

'Ah, Davith, Higgold tells me you've really improved your projection lately: well done.'

'Thank you, mis- er, m'lady.'

'Lady Patron, I left the list you asked for on your desk, the one of prominent nobles and other luminaries for the opening night invitations.'

'Oh yes, thank you, Alhana.'

Down the central aisle she led them and up onto the empty stage, a brilliantly lit chaos of colour as curtain and backdrops and huge gilt pillars all fought for the eye. Then she pushed aside a curtain and they were backstage, plunged suddenly into a world of dust and darkness, people hurrying about them in the gloom before at last they came to a door set in the wall under a narrow flight of stairs, the girl opening it to reveal a long narrow room, a huge gilt mirror at one end, while a rather battered dresser was set just opposite the door, the surface covered in neat piles of parchment and an oil lamp which was already glowing brightly, two worn armchairs before it. Fritha removed her cloak in one easy movement, laying it casually over the nearest chair and turning back to notice him lingering in the doorway.

'Come in, come in,' she smiled, gesturing for him to give her his cloak as well, though Cernd hadn't had even the chance to put down his staff when a brown-haired man a few years senior to him barged into the room. The druid placed him immediately as Higgold, Fritha's much-bemoaned director, a young boy he recognised as Meck close on his heels.

'Oh, Lady Patron,' the man gasped dramatically, 'Wynn said she saw you arrive and thanks be to Milil you did! We just cannot work under these conditions any longer! This morning a backdrop came down and nearly struck Iltheia as she was delivering her soliloquy!'

'Are you sure that was an accident?' muttered Fritha, Meck snorting into his hand, though Higgold had either not heard them or was pretending he hadn't.

'The poor thing is in the dressing room now trying to collect herself. She is refusing to rehearse another scene and rest of the cast is threatening to join her unless you do something about this curse. Why even _I_ can sense the malevolent spirits thronging about us; just imagine the torment that one as sensitive as Iltheia must have been going through.'

'Yes, she's a real trooper,' sighed Fritha dully, continuing with more enthusiasm as she stepped back to beckon politely to him and Cernd felt himself stiffen. 'Well, it just so happens that this is the very reason I am here now. Higgold, let me introduce to you Master Cernd, a powerful shaman -all the way from the Marshes of Trademeet, no less- who is going to exorcise this evil.'

Higgold turned to him as though he had not even noticed his presence in the room before, the director giving him an openly appraising look and Cernd's stomach tightened. He glanced to Fritha, the slightest twitch of her eyebrows the only thing to give away her deception and he could see the expectant look to her eyes. Cernd drew a deep breath; it was worth a try.

'That is so, my children. I have sensed a great unrest within these walls even upon my entering. If you would but lead me to the site of this latest manifestation, I shall begin my work in laying these troubled spirits to rest.'

Higgold nodded deeply, clearly impressed.

'Well, sir, I shall have someone lead you there this very moment -Meck. Thank you, my lady,' the director continued with genuine gratitude as the boy led Cernd off towards the stage, 'you are, as ever, our most considerate patron. Now, since you are here, there is another much less serious, though just as disruptive problem I should like your assistance with. Just one moment, please,' he excused himself, turning to put his head back around the door and call, 'Zeran!'

A few moments' pause, in which Fritha sank into the chair behind her, before their male lead arrived, the blond actor dipping her a polite bow, the script he held tightly rolled in his hand the only indication as to his annoyance. Higgold cleared his throat slightly and began.

'Now, Zeran here has been improvising some of his lines for a good few days now. At first, I let it slide, but lately it has grown to the point where it cannot go on any longer.'

'But this play could be so much better, my lady!' Zeran burst out, practically ignoring Higgold as he stooped slightly to plead his case, 'The romance between Velden and Karenina needs more passion; it would make the end all the more tragic for it.'

'It also makes a shamble of rehearsals!' countered Higgold crossly, the director slumping into the chair opposite in his frustrations. 'No one knows where their cues are with you changing your lines every other scene!'

Zeran sighed impatiently. 'And as I have already _said_, if you would but let me rewrite the lines in the script then that would not be an issue. Here, my lady,' he continued more politely, passing her the script he held, 'I made notes of my changes on my own copy.'

The man was clearly passionate about the attempt; Fritha could barely see the original typeface for the ink he had scrawled all over it. But Higgold was just as impassioned about preventing the changes, it seemed.

'_Rewrite_ it? Rewrite the Sorcerer's Bane? The very thought borders on heresy. Such madness could ruin this playhouse!'

'Or make it! You said yourself Higgold, the new lines _are_ better.'

'That is not the point! Now, you may not listen to me, but our Patron you _must _heed. Tell him you forbid it, my lady.'

Fritha glanced up from the script she had been trying to decipher. From what she could make of them, the alterations did all Zeran said and more, a rawer passion replacing lines that before had sometimes seemed more concerned with sounding clever than on communicating any real feeling.

'My lady?' prompted Higgold when she did not jump to agree with him.

'The new lines _are_ better, Higgold,' she answered with a shrug, turning instantly to Zeran, 'Do you really think you can do it?'

Zeran stared down at her open-mouthed as though he could hardly believe what he'd just heard.

'What, you- you are letting me-? Oh, my lady, you are a wonderful woman! You will not regret this!'

She smiled wryly. 'Just make sure I don't. Ah, Master Cernd,' she continued as Meck appeared in the doorway, the druid just behind him, 'have you finished your exorcism?'

Cernd nodded gravely, his voice mellow and almost ethereal in its cadence; the man had clearly got into the role.

'Indeed, my child, the spirits of this place are now at rest.'

Fritha slapped her palms together and began rubbing her hands briskly, making to rise. 'Good, good. Well, if that is all, Higgold, I need to discuss the good shaman's fee.'

'What? Oh, very well,' Higgold sighed, immediately standing to usher Zeran out before him, the actor already talking excitedly about the changes he wished to make as Meck shut the door behind them. Fritha slumped back into her chair, offering the seat opposite to Cernd with a grin that he shared; it was just another day at the theatre.

xxx

And it seemed it was to be another night at the theatre too, Cernd leaving the girl there at sunset and making his way back to the Coronet to find a very displeased Jaheira propping up the bar, the man having little time to talk to her before the others of their company arrived back as well. They had enjoyed no more luck in the crypts than he or Fritha had had about the town, the four of them tired and dirty, having stumbled upon a nest of ghouls during their search, and none of them lingered at the table after they had finished the evening meal. Anomen, Aerie and Minsc all retired within minutes of each other, Haer'Dalis promptly departing for the theatre and leaving Cernd and Jaheira alone once more.

Jaheira leaned back in her chair topping up both their cups with the last of the wine that was left over from their meal, her voice cool and indifferent as of one only making conversation for the sake of politeness until she could make her own excuses and leave as well.

'So, what did you and Fritha get up to at the playhouse today? Did she have you helping with rehearsals?'

Cernd smiled into his cup. 'Not exactly, but I did exorcise the malevolent spirit of a young actress who died in the theatre over a hundred years ago.'

'You did _what_?'

His smile broadened. 'Yes, apparently the troupe are all a touch superstitious about the curse that hangs over their chosen play and a spate of accidents was blown into a full-scale haunting. Higgold appeared not long after we arrived saying that the cast were refusing to rehearse unless she did something, so Fritha took advantage of my being there and introduced me as the shaman she had procured to exorcise the place.'

Jaheira smiled for the first time that day, the woman laughing as she exclaimed, 'That girl! And what did Higgold say?'

Cernd shrugged.

'Oh, Higgold seemed impressed enough; a part of me wonders if he even saw past my appearance.'

'So what did you do?'

'Well, the child, Meck, led me out onto the stage where the last accident occurred, the cast all huddled fearfully in the wings to watch, and I said that I could feel a strong presence there. I closed my eyes and began to sway slightly as I have seen other elder druids do when they are attempting to channel an animal spirit and I just let my imagination take me from there. I had them all convinced I was communing with the spirit of some poor actress who had died on the opening night of the playhouse before she could make her début.'

Jaheira was laughing warmly by this point, shaking her head. 'By Silvanus, and they _believed_ you?'

'You doubt my abilities as an actor, good Jaheira?' Cernd reproached genially, glad to see her cheered. 'They most certainly _did_ believe me and I laid the spirit of that poor woman to rest to great applause.' He smiled thinking back to the moment and Fritha's reaction once he'd returned to her office. 'Fritha was as pleased as any of them and quite as amused as you have been when I related to her the tale over lunch.' He paused, sending the women a thoughtful look, 'She is an… oddgirl, isn't she? Very different from how I would have imagined of one in her circumstances, but quite charmingly so.'

Jaheira smiled fondly, though her eyes seemed sad.

'Yes. Yes, she is. I fear sometimes she uses it to hide something else though. She is always bad for it, especially when matters take a turn for the worst like this, the girl so desperately shielding herself with her good humour, I fear she loses herself in it.'

Cernd sighed, shaking his head.

'It is an unfair decision that rests upon her shoulders, the choice between what you desire and the greater good; I know well enough its weight.'

'You have been thinking more on your son,' Jaheira confirmed and he nodded tiredly.

'What everyone says is so, that the child does not even know me as father and who could wish for a more advantageous start for the boy, taken into such a household; perhaps he truly is better off where he is. But then when I consider just letting him go, a pain opens in my heart of such intensity I fear I would rather die.' He shook his head again; talking about the decision bringing him no closer to making it. 'Did you and your husband ever think to have any children?'

Jaheira sighed. 'Khalid and I spoke of it, as many couples do, but it was never the right time. There was always something to be done, some new cause to fight.' She shrugged, reaching for her cup. 'The opportunity has passed now and I feel no new regrets for it; I still have no desire to settle down.'

Cernd nodded, dropping his eyes and letting a finger absently trace along the looping woodgrain of the table.

'Yes, I thought I was the same, but now… All I have wanted in my life, ever since I can remember, was to serve Nature and be at one with the land. But now… now I would trade it all, all my freedom, my grove, even resume my life here in the city if it would mean my child would be retuned to my care.'

Jaheira shook her head, nothing to say to it seemed and Cernd just reached for his cup as she had.

xxx

Fritha smiled gratefully as the man before her picked up his tray and tried to sidle out through the press around the bar, pausing just long enough to provide her with an opening at the counter before moving off to be lost in the crowds. By the time Haer'Dalis had arrived at the theatre to see her that evening, she was more than sick of going through the reams of bills and paperwork that the place seemed to generate with only interruptions from a fretful Higgold as respite, and the pair had left almost immediately to go _carousing_, as a disapproving Jaheira would have likely termed it.

They were in The Three Tuns now, a dingy low-ceilinged tavern in the very west of slums that she had not been in before, the air hazy with pipe smoke and the smell of sweat. Though for all that, it was clearly very popular and Fritha suspected the _very_ cheap ale they were selling by the barrelful might have had something to do with it.

She glanced behind her, making sure she had not lost Haer'Dalis in the crowds, the man easy enough to spot though he was not looking for her, instead focused intently on something in the tavern behind them and she followed his gaze to a table of three men who were looking over a large square of parchment. They were mercenaries by their look; a grey bearded dwarf and a man, his dark hair drawn back into a short stub of a ponytail, sat on one side of the table and both of them bearing the arms and scars that places them as warriors, while their paler companion was more likely a mage by his ostentatious robes, his superior height making it all the easier for him to look down on his surroundings as appeared to be his wont.

Their discussion over, Fritha watched as the robed man moved to folded up the parchment, though she did not see what happened to it then, the barman finally before her ready to take her order and she thought no more on it until she had paid for their wine, Haer'Dalis grabbing her elbow the instant she was free from the crowds and almost dragging her over to the men's table.

'A good evening, friends,' he greeted, 'it seems they are rather short of tables at the moment, perhaps we could join you? We've wine enough for all.'

The three glanced up from their drinks, the robed man going almost instantly back to his as though the matter was beneath his interest, while the two warriors shared a frown, the dwarf raking dark appraising eyes over them before he answered gruffly, 'If ye like.'

Haer'Dalis smiled, drawing out a seat for Fritha next to the mage, before taking the place opposite as he continued genially, 'My thanks, my thanks. I am Laedrith and this is my good friend, Kaerid.'

Fritha glanced across the table, Haer'Dalis's face showing no hint of this lie as he served their wine, waiting for her to make her own introduction. This behaviour was not so unusual from Haer'Dalis as to catch her out though, for indeed they had played similar games before when they were out, the man seemingly enjoying such deceptions merely for the practise of it and though Fritha had no idea what he was planning this time, she went along with it without falter. She smiled to the table as a whole.

'A pleasure, I'm sure.'

The dark-haired warrior nodded politely. 'Well, I'm Tae and this here is Korgan-

'I can speak fer meself, boy!' the dwarf snapped, 'Korgan Bloodaxe; hail and wassail to the pair of ye.' He raised his tankard to them before downing the contents in one, belching loudly as he reached out to help himself to their wine.

'And this is Aurimas,' said Tae, the robed man sending them a rather indifferent nod as his more martial companion continued, 'So, you two don't sound local, then.'

Haer'Dalis laughed, sending Fritha a dazzling smile as he lightly clapped her arm.

'Indeed, how many times have we heard that lately, sister? We are travellers from Sigil, here on the Prime to broaden our horizons before Kaerid resigns herself to a good few years of toil and study in a conservatory in the Lady's Ward.'

'Oh, so you like plants then, m'lady?' Tae inquired politely, the dwarf instantly bursting into loud laughter as Aurimas snapped, 'He refers to a music school, you dolt!'

'Shut it, spellfiddler!' Tae shouted back, a hand already on his blade hilt, Korgan seemingly unconcerned about the possible brawl about to erupt in his midst as he continued to laugh.

'Har har har! Not an ounce 'o wit between the pair o' ye, I swear it!'

The two men glowered at each other across the table, though they said no more and Fritha could feel the tension over them fade, though not completely. There was clearly no love lost between the members of that group and Fritha wondered why on Toril the tiefling had been so keen to join them.

'So you are mercenaries then?' continued Haer'Dalis as though nothing had happened, 'I can tell by the varied company you keep. I had heard the winter can be hard time for your brethren on the Prime, for the weather limits your work.'

Tae grinned, looking immensely satisfied with himself. 'Ah, well, that may be so for some others, but we've a job that'll keep us in wine and wench-' a glance at Fritha revised things, 'ah, _warmth_ all the winter long.'

'Truly, cutter? It must be quite the ride you've planned.'

'Oh, aye,' nodded Korgan, taking another mouthful and swiping the foam from his beard with the back of his hand, 'some addled-pate mage, wants us the fetch him some book from the city crypts. Sounds to be the easiest job I've e'er had.'

'Aye, you said it,' Tae agreed with a loud laugh, 'and that Mekrath's gonna pay us five hundred coin for the task!'

Haer'Dalis sent her the briefest of glances, the only indication that he had recognised the name of his former captor.

'Quit yer mouth, ye damn fool,' snarled Korgan, slapping the man's shoulder for good measure, 'do ye want everyone in the alehouse to know of it?'

'Quite, quite,' Haer'Dalis agreed, forestalling any further argument and glancing about them at the surrounding revelry with suspicion, 'Best to be peery, for you never know just _who_ is listening. But,' he continued, back to his genial self as he turned politely to Aurimas, 'did I hear right that you are a spellslinger?'

Aurimas blinked a moment, before nodding once. 'Well, yes, I am a mage, if that is what you mean.'

Haer'Dalis beamed, turning instantly to Fritha.

'Well, Kaerid, it seems you are in luck; my sister here has always found magic _fascinating_.'

Fritha just checked rolling her eyes; she was going to _kill _Haer'Dalis for this later, the girl smiling as the mage turned to her, pale grey eyes holding the first hint of interest she'd seen in them so far.

'Really, my lady?'

'Aye, he can hardly believe it; most lasses find his arcane prattle duller than a great thaw, ain't that right, spellchucker!' sneered Korgan and the two warriors laughed. Aurimas bore it with no more than a flicker of irritation though, all his focus still on her and Fritha nodded, dipping her face slightly in a hint to a coyness she certainly did not feel. Across the table, Tae looked rather disappointed.

'Oh yes, the Weave, as you call it, has always been intriguing to me, though I thought its use was monitored quite strictly here?'

Aurimas snorted. 'Oh, it is, but I hold no fear of the Cowled Wizards; I do as I please.'

'Gosh, how _brave!_' Fritha gasped, all her concentration going into not to laughing.

And the conversation went from there really, Aurimas telling her long laborious stories of his studies and adventures in magic, regularly punctuated with overly flamboyant hand gestures, and all that was left for Fritha to do was nod and smile and make the appropriate exclamations of awe now and then. Across the table, it seemed Haer'Dalis had got the much better deal in this charade, the three laughing and talking over each other as they drank and shared stories, the bard making very sure their cups never ran dry.

'Come now, Kaerid,' the tiefling scolded warmly as he leaned forward to top up her own cup, 'you have barely touched your wine.'

Fritha sent him a smile, hoping he could feel the displeasure simmering behind it as she turned her attention back to the mage, Haer'Dalis returning her cup with a grin. He did not set it back at her hand though, but a good few inches away and Fritha watched, time seeming to slow, as Aurimas made another pretentious sweep of his arm and knocked it neatly off the table.

'Ah!' Fritha cried as the cup dropped into her lap, clattering to the floor an instant later, the cool wine soaking through her trousers.

'Oh Hells!' Aurimas cursed, immediately fumbling at his robes to produce a dark green handkerchief, 'Your pardon, my lady, I- Be silent, you two!' he snapped as his companions roared with laughter, Fritha trying to soothe him as she held her tunic out of the way.

'Oh, please don't worry; it's mostly on my trousers, so it doesn't sho- Oh!' she squeaked as he pressed the cloth firmly against her leg in his haste, the man seeming to realised what he had done the instant she had, dropping the handkerchief in his embarrassment. Tae and Korgan were laughing even harder now, the former with his head buried in his arms to hide the fact he was almost crying. Haer'Dalis smiled kindly, sweeping over to help the man as Aurimas dropped into a crouch to attempt to gather up her cup and his handkerchief both.

'Here, let me help you there, cutter.'

A flurry of movement and both men were stood once more, Haer'Dalis cleaning her cup on his handkerchief, while Aurimas was returning his own rather more stained one to his pocket. Haer'Dalis sent her a friendly wink.

'There now, no harm done, eh, Kaerid?'

'Not at all,' Fritha replied, sending a kind smile to the mage and Aurimas nodded, looking relieved and rather more flushed than before as he returned to his seat.

'Here, my lady, allow me to pour you some more wine.'

And the table resumed their friendly talk, Fritha and the tiefling drinking until this fourth and final carafe was empty and Haer'Dalis announced that they should probably be getting back to their lodgings in the Promenade. Fritha, deciding she may as well do the thing properly, made a show of fussing over her coat and cloak so as to spend as long as possible in his company before she was forced to bid a _fond_ farewell to Aurimas, the girl breathing a deeply relieved sigh as they finally stepped outside into the cool night air.

'So, what do we fancy now?' asked Fritha brightly as they started along the street, 'They've music over at Red Griffin tonight or there's always the Waterdeep Packet.'

'Or how about a little _tomb robbing?_' grinned Haer'Dalis and Fritha could hardly believe it as he drew a familiar square of parchment from inside his jacket.

'Oh Haer'Dalis, you _didn't_! I should have known you were up to something when you got me to flirt with that idiot of a mage!'

But Haer'Dalis just laughed, his eyes gleaming wickedly. 'Come, my raven, you heard what they said: it was to be an easy ride even for their meagre trio and it will be tomorrow before they even notice the map is missing, in their cups as they are. If we go now, no one need ever be the wiser and you will have an extra few coins to put Gaelen's way.'

Fritha stared back at him, his look earnest and bright in the twilight. Everything about this was wrong: stealing maps, breaking tombs. And yet for all that, there she was, stood in the forgiving darkness once more with her very dear friend and she could not help but feel it yearning within her, the desire to nod and grin and enjoy a few hours in reckless freedom before the sun rose again and she was once more under the yoke of her responsibilities. Fritha sighed, indifferent and tired and much at odds with the excitement she felt quickening her heart.

'All right then, sparrow, but if you want us to do this, you'll need to convince someone else to come along with us.'

Haer'Dalis looked genuinely surprised; perhaps he had expected them to leave straight away.

'But why? I have been in the crypts these last three days and I can assure you there is nothing down there to endanger a cutter's life except for the boredom -surely you are not _afraid_, my raven?' he added teasingly.

Fritha snorted. 'Not of anything in the crypts. You don't understand, do you? We go together and who will get it in the neck? Me, because everyone already knows _you're_ completely irresponsible. Blame isn't shared out like loot you know, it just all falls squarely on most responsible person present.'

'So we need to get someone else to join us in the venture?' he confirmed, 'Well then, who?'

Fritha shrugged.

'It doesn't really matter._ Everyone's_ more responsible than me, with you being the only exception. Oh, I can just hear them now,' she laughed, raising her voice an octave as she pretend to scold someone, '_Really, why on Toril did you listen to them? You know those two are just incorrigible when they get together!_''

Haer'Dalis laughed. 'Well, then we had best get back to the inn and find ourselves a willing volunteer, hadn't we? Come, my raven, no time to lose!'

And with that, he sprang up, haring off down the street in the direction of the slums, Fritha laughing as she tore after him.

xxx

'Well, I think I shall retire now,' sighed Cernd, stepping rather unsteadily down from his stool, 'my sleep here is restless enough without adding any more ale to it, though at least the moon will no longer be a problem for me come the morrow.'

Jaheira nodded. She and Cernd had sat and talked for much longer than she had expected they would, the tavern about them slowly emptying as the hour grew late. The man sent her a parting smile.

'Goodnight Jaheira.'

'Yes, goodnight,' she answered, knowing she would not be in the tavern much longer herself as she considered the half drunk cup of wine before her, though Cernd had only just disappeared into the stairwell when a voice behind her cried her name.

'Jaheira?'

Jaheira turned in her seat to see Fritha and Haer'Dalis hurrying towards her, weaving through the press of empty tables, the girl flushed with cold and looking very pleased to see her.

'Jaheira, ah, you're still awake; it's surely a sign!'

'My ptarmigan, is everyone else retired?'

The druid frowned, wondering if the pair were somehow drunk, though they did not seem particularly into their cups.

'Yes, Cernd was the last and he just retired a moment ago -what _are_ you shrieking about, Fritha?' she demanded as the girl squealed delightedly.

'Oh Jaheira, we've got a map -a treasure map to book -a book in the tombs!'

'You've a map to a tomb that contains some valuable book?' Jaheira finally pieced together with a frown, 'Where on Toril did you find that?'

'Well, we _might_ have liberated from a group of mercenaries over in The Three Tuns,' the girl admitted slowly, before continuing all in a rush, '-but we left them well into their cups, so there's no way they'll be starting their expedition until the morning, and by the time they even discover they've lost the map we'll be well away.'

'Liberated,' Jaheira repeated dully, 'So you stole it.'

'Yes,' agreed Haer'Dalis with the pride only a thief could exude, 'and now we plan to steal the prize too, right out from under them!'

Jaheira sighed. 'And how do plan to get rid of this book once you've acquired it? You know it is nigh on impossible to fence anything remotely arcane in this city.'

'Why, we will merely deliver it to the one who commissioned its retrieval in the first instance, my ptarmigan.'

'Oh _yes_, and have you considered that he might not be willing to accept it from just _anyone_,' Jaheira pressed, but the tiefling merely shrugged.

'Oh, don't think he'll be all that bothered. Mekrath never struck me as one who was particularly concerned about the niceties of such things and besides,' he grinned roguishly, 'all's fair in love and tomb-robbing.'

'_Mekrath_?' Jaheira repeated, her voice rising, 'The one from whom you had us _steal_ that portal-summoning bauble!'

But Haer'Dalis waved all this away with a frown. 'Come now, Jaheira, I will take the book to him myself if you are concerned he will lay _that _crime at our door.'

Jaheira drew back from them, a sense of foreboding welling within her and Fritha looked instantly heartbroken.

'Come on, Jaheira, _please_. We can find another buyer if you're worried; it's easy coin in the purse -I promise _fun_,' she added in a sing-song voice.

Perhaps it was the few cups of wine she had drunk that were helping her to this conclusion, but Jaheira could feel herself being swayed. Fritha was not normally so reckless, but with everything that had happened lately and their group seeming to set themselves so stoutly against her over the vampires, the girl seemed rather more inclined to bite her thumb at what was expected of her, even if turned out to be something that was usually against her nature. And perhaps if they could earn some coin without having to trek halfway across Amn and risk their lives to do so, Fritha would be more likely to refuse Bodhi's offer anyway.

Jaheira glanced to the pair, both gazing back at her with eager anticipation and she wondered if she had ever seen Fritha looking so young. Pointless though it was, Jaheira was feeling increasing guilty about her continued meetings with Galvarey; would it really hurt to just go down into the crypts and fetch out some book? Jaheira sighed and shook her head, dropping from her stool to fetch up her cloak and staff.

'I just know I am going to regret this.'

Fritha laughed delightedly.

'We should at least inform the others where we are going,' Jaheira added sternly, Fritha already rooting in her bag.

'I'll write a note for Minsc.'

Fritha was hunched over the bar, having finally produced her stylus and a scrap of parchment and Haer'Dalis caught Jaheira's eye, sending the druid a smile that she could not help but return, albeit wryly.

'I must be the mother of fools to have agreed to this idiocy.'

Haer'Dalis clapped a commiserating hand up her shoulder.

'We are all of us fools for her.'


	60. Out came the sun

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. Nor do I own "_Another girl, Another Planet"'_ by the Only Ones.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

**Out came the sun**

It was well past midnight now, the stars blinking as clouds moved overhead, blowing in off the sea, bringing with them a damp almost warm breeze and Jaheira could sense the rains to come.

Fritha and Haer'Dalis were walking slightly behind her, almost as though they still worried she might change her mind. A part of her considered she should as well, though it was a concern that she was clearly alone in, the pair laughing and chatting as they walked and Jaheira could not help but notice the change in Fritha, the girl's carefree manner lacking the strained edge it had suffered lately and she seemed genuinely happy. Jaheira let her gaze drift to the dusky-haired man walking next to her. She had been worried before that something best left dormant would blossom between them, but then it had all faded into friendship and she had felt her concerns ebb.

_But now_… Jaheira considered as she watched the girl laugh, dark eyes shining with more than just the reflection of the streetlamps. Fritha glanced ahead to catch her watching, beaming as she skipped forward to playfully tug at her sleeve as though to hurry her along, like a young child on her way to some wonderful treat.

'Ah, I'm so excited!'

'Fritha, calm down.'

'How can I, when I'm out with my two favourite people and I'm feeling so up!' Fritha sprang onto the low wall next to them, her voice light and full of laughter as she began to sing. _'I __always flirt with death. I look ill, but I don't care about it._'

'Fritha, get down from there!'

'_I can face your threats, and stand up straight and tall and shout about it._'

'You having fun there, pet?' called a gruff voice behind them and the three turned to see a patrol of two watchmen paused at the crossroads they had just passed.

'Aye, always!' Fritha called back.

The guards laughed continuing their patrol, Fritha humming blithely as she continued her dance along the wall, the tiefling smiling as he turned to Jaheira.

'Now, my ptarmigan, who looks the more suspicious: three cutters skulking about the darkened streets, or three revellers on their way to the next tavern?'

'Do not even _attempt_ to make out her idiocy is all part of some greater plan!'

'No, but it was a useful coincidence, was it not?'

He grinned and Jaheira shook her head in disbelief.

'The full moon must be affecting more than just Cernd; letting you two lead me into this madness. How I will face the others tomorrow, I do not know.'

But Haer'Dalis waved her concerns away with a pale hand. 'Oh, they will not care and those that do will be appeased easily enough.'

'Yes,' agreed Fritha, looking down on them, suddenly serious, 'it's not as if we're going to _desecrate_ anything. Just fetch this book and leave. Besides,' she continued, a certain sternness creeping into her manner and Jaheira could see a reflection of Gorion and his Oghamite teachings lingering behind the young face, 'books shouldn't be buried to start with. They are created to be read, that the knowledge they hold may be shared and grow. I bet the person who wrote it would not wish for their book to moulder away like a corpse.' Fritha had at last come to the end the wall, the girl dropping down to join them on the street once more as she continued thoughtfully, 'And as for the others, well, I don't think Minsc will mind so much, for a start. Will Cernd?'

Jaheira sighed dully. 'No, I do not imagine so.'

'And the dove is always cross with me about something at the moment,' offered Haer'Dalis with a shrug.

Jaheira nodded. In fact, the only reaction she could not foresee was Anomen's. In the beginning, he had been so predictable in his black and white view of the world, but he seemed to have matured somewhat lately. She doubted he would be pleased with them tomb robbing, but if _Fritha_ went to him with her reasons…

'I could not guess at what the knight would do though, he has changed greatly of late,' Jaheira offered absently and Fritha nodded in vehement agreement.

'I'm glad you've noticed it too. I thought it was just me, at first, but Anomen has been acting _very_ oddly, hasn't he? I think this knighthood has gone to his head. He told me I had nice posture the other day,' she confessed, frowning as though she could not see why anyone would have even considered it.

Haer'Dalis smiled mildly, letting his eyes flick pointedly down to her rear.

'Are you sure he said _posture_?'

'_Haer'Dalis!_' Fritha cried, laughing through her indignation as she cuffed the back of his head, the bard lost to laughter. Jaheira shook her head, torn between disapproval and amusement.

'Really, Haer'Dalis, are you _that _keen to meet with your oblivion so soon? I cannot imagine Aerie finding such jests as entertaining as you seem to.'

The bard let his laughter finally fade in a sigh, though the smile still lingered.

'Ah, that she would not, my ptarmigan, but it would be refreshing to be scolded something for which I feel I _should _be reproached. Ah, and at last we are arrived, my birds.'

Jaheira gazed up at the ornate stone archway that marked the entrance to the cemetery, memories of the last time they were gathered before it and their chilling meeting suddenly at the fore of her mind. Neither Fritha nor the bard seemed especially concerned though, the pair stepping just inside to examine the painted board that showed the layout of the plots for visitors, Fritha letting a pale blue light blossom in her hand as they examined it.

'So which way is it?' asked Fritha. Haer'Dalis glanced briefly to the map he held.

'The west gate is the crypt entrance nearest to where we are headed; it is on other side of graveyard. This way.'

Fritha let the light she held fade, the girl unwilling to attract the attention of any more watchmen now. The moon was full though, bathing the place in enough light to make the way, though it was not as brightly as Jaheira would have liked. Perhaps it was just since she knew who held residence there, but she fancied every shadow looked sinister, the darkness that hung in the doorways of the tombs they passed hiding untold fiends.

Haer'Dalis led them through the hatching of cobbled streets past ornate vaults and tombs, some almost miniature palaces in their grandeur, finally coming to a narrow lane between two large stone mausoleums that ended in a wall. A tall iron gate was at the end and barring the way to a flight of stone steps which spiralled down into the darkness. The bard rattled it, the clang of metal on metal seeming very loud in the surrounding stillness.

'Ah, locked as expected. My raven.'

Fritha let a hand hover over the lock, a well-oiled click the only sign of the magic being worked within. Haer'Dalis grinned, opening the gate and stepping back with a slight bow.

'Ladies first.'

Fritha glance to Jaheira with an eager smile, light blooming about them as they summoned their werelights and together the three descended into the crypts.

The steps led down into a small square room, three tunnels leading from it, just three yawning black holes in the grey stone walls. The vaulted ceiling above them was also lost to darkness, the place swathed in shadows that their werelights seemed to do little to penetrate.

'Ooo, it's a bit spooky, isn't it?' whispered Fritha, though she sounded more enthralled that scared, the girl raising her light to better see the ornate carvings that decorated the ceiling ribs. Haer'Dalis snorted, not bothering to glance up from the map he was studying.

'Believe me, a few profitless hours searching and it soon loses its macabre charm. Come, the map points this way.'

They took the northern tunnel, travelling the maze of passages, the majority of which were lined floor to ceiling with alcoves where bodies both fresh and ancient lay under shrouds in their final rest. The way was slow for the map they had acquired was not the most accurate of plans and seemed to miss off the smaller tunnels and turnings altogether, and with a tunnel-in further into the crypts forcing them to backtrack, Jaheira guessed it was well over an hour later when they finally reached their goal.

This passage was much wider than the others they had travelled to get there and lined, not with alcoves but long heavy wooden tombs set vertically against the walls, each painted with an image of a figure dressed in simple clothes, their eyes closed as though sleeping.

'What are these?' asked Haer'Dalis, moving closer to the nearest one. Jaheira shrugged, joining him to throw light upon the faded painting of a square-jawed and simple looking man she placed as some sort of labourer.

'More than likely depictions of the servants of whomever we plan to rob and included here that they may continue to serve him beyond the veil.'

Fritha frowned, looking uneasy.

'They- they weren't killed when he died and buried down here as well, were they?' she asked and Jaheira assumed the girl had heard rumours of the barbaric rites carried out in distant Mulhorand, though the druid shook her head.

'No, no, I have not heard of that practise ever in Amn. These tombs are likely empty, just included as a representation of the deceased's status.'

They moved onward down the passage, the light that hovered over her staff slowly opening the room at the end, until finally they passed under the archway to stand in a small square chamber, a large sarcophagus in the centre, the figure of a man, robed and bearded, carved in stone upon the lid, while chests and pots of various sizes were set about it, a fine layer of powdery dust over all.

'So, we are here,' confirmed Haer'Dalis finally pocketing the map and turning his attention to the sarcophagus. 'According to Mekrath's notes, the book should be inside the tomb. Are there any traps awaiting prying hands, my ptarmigan?'

Jaheira ran her eye and then her fingers over the stone lid. 'Nothing physical. Fritha?'

The girl shrugged. 'I sense no magic about it.'

'Well, then,' said Haer'Dalis, rubbing his hands together eagerly and placing them against the lid, 'There is only one thing left, my birds.'

He lowered his frame and pushed, Jaheira moving to help him, the heavy stone lid grinding slowly back to reveal a desiccated corpse, its skin black and stretched like leather over its bones, tattered fragments of mouldering velvet and gold wire all that remained of the fine red robes it had been buried in. And there, clasped to its chest and still perfectly intact was a large green tome.

Fritha reached in and eased it carefully from its hands to open it.

'Ooo, Thorass.'

'Sorry?' came Haer'Dalis, glancing back from where he had been leaning in to better examine the body.

'It's written in Old Common,' the girl explained, 'As a language, I haven't seen it since leaving Candlekeep.' She shifted the book to rest upon one arm, turning the page as she read, before glancing up to them with frown. 'I think it's a diary.'

'Well, whatever it is, we have it now,' said Jaheira, 'You can study it after we return to the inn.'

Fritha nodded, pushing it carefully into her bag and moving to the other side of the sarcophagus to help the tiefling close the lid, the pair having barely set their backs to it when they heard it.

'I am not sure this is the correct turning, Korgan. This map is rather more sketchy than the last and since we were forced to backtrack-'

'No! This be the way, I bloody knows it, so get back in line!'

Jaheira's werelight was out in an instant, the last thing she saw, Fritha's look of horror before the tomb was plunged into darkness.

It was as though a veil had been thrown over the world, the vault now lit only by the soft glow of the torches that were just around the end of the tunnel, the light growing ever brighter with the approaching echo of the footsteps. Fritha bit back a cry as she felt two firm hands grab her shoulders in the darkness, Haer'Dalis suddenly dragging her along the tunnel towards the light, the pair reaching about halfway along before the bard pulled open the nearest tomb to bundle her inside, Fritha just able to make out Jaheira doing the same at the coffin opposite before Haer'Dalis stepped in behind her and pulled the door closed.

Fritha deepened her breathing, trying to hear over the smart tattoo of blood beating in her ears. The tomb was cramped with both of them in there, her face pressed into the bard's shoulder at an odd angle and she could feel his breath stirring her hair as they waited. The footsteps were growing louder and Fritha recognised the imperious tones of Aurimas as the men passed outside.

'Well, all I can say is that it is fortunate _I_ kept that rough draft of the map Mekrath gave us.'

'Ha, listen to him, Korgan. We wouldn't even _be_ in this position, spellfiddler, if _you_ hadn't lost the first one.'

'_Tae!_ It was not _lost _and you know it! Those vile thieves! I cannot believe they tricked us like this!'

'We should have realised really; there was no way that girl would have fancied _you_, Aurimas.'

'You-!'

'Cease yer jabbering,' the dwarf cut in roughly, 'or I'll be silencing ye both fer good! Now there still be a fair chance they ain't come down here yet, so…'

There was a pause to the voices and Fritha suspected they had finally reached the vault, suspicions confirmed but moments later when an almost primal roar echoed along the passage, quickly followed a long stream of curses punctuated by the smash of breaking pottery as Korgan no doubt vented his fury.

'_Arrgh_, those rank _bastards_! I do the work of ferreting out the _blasted_ book and those plane-skulking swindlers steal it from under me! Thrice over their graves I'll be dancing, I swear it!'

Fritha felt a hand gently squeeze her shoulder, Haer'Dalis giving her this brief warning as he set his back against the lid and slowly eased it open, the man slipping quietly through the gap and holding it open for her to do the same. Jaheira was already outside the tomb opposite them, the woman carefully closing the lid. But time had taken its toll upon the workings, the hinges giving a disgruntled shriek as she let the lid swing closed the final few inches.

'Hold, Korgan, I heard something.'

The uproar in the vault behind them suddenly ceased and before they could even move, a light flared bright. For a moment, the two groups just stared at each other, all ghost-like and drained of colour in the flash of brightness the mage had conjured, when Korgan suddenly roared, raising his axe above his head with a wild look and Haer'Dalis had grabbed Fritha an instant later, pulling her after him as he turned to run, the three tearing off down the passageway, the mercenaries in furious pursuit.

There seemed little point for stealth now and Fritha had already summoned a small bead of light for them to see by, the girl on Haer'Dalis's heels, Jaheira but a pace behind her as the three of them ran. The tiefling clearly had a memory for maps, Haer'Dalis hardly even slowing his pace to decide each time they came to a junction and he recalled the way better than she ever could have. But even he was not infallible, and Fritha soon found herself running down unfamiliar passageways, until Haer'Dalis turned into a small chamber and finally they halted.

Fritha held her breath, trying to silence her panting and slow the wild beating on her heart after their frantic flight. The room was small and square with a vaulted ceiling just as the entrance hall had been, cobwebs hung like ornate swags above them, a heavy layer of dust over the two tombs the room housed, each carved with a figure, one man and one woman, both clothed in a very old style of dress. The sounds of their pursuers were still echoing in the tunnels outside, but they seemed quieter than before and Fritha let the hope enter her heart that they had perhaps finally lost them.

Haer'Dalis and Jaheira had slipped into the shadows behind one of the entrance pillars, Jaheira calling forth faint light for them to study the map by, the pair trying to place where they were. Fritha kept her eyes fixed on the doorway, moving to crouch behind one of the sarcophaguses where she had a view of the passage they had fled down just moments before, watching the end for the soft glow of light that would indicate they had been followed. But there was nothing yet, the girl turning back to ask the others whether they had found the way out, and Fritha only just manage to stifle her cry to a gasp as she came face to face with a young boy of no more than six winters, grubby and gaunt and pale with fear.

'What is it?' hissed Jaheira, the druid starting back with surprise as she rounded the corner of the tomb. 'By Silvanus!'

'Goodness,' breathed Fritha, still hardly able to believe he was there before her, the girl running panicked hands over his frame, bone-thin beneath his simple robes, 'Are you all right? Are you hurt?'

The boy shook his head, his eyes suddenly going wide, body tensing as though about to flee.

'Now, don't be afraid, we're not going to hurt-'

A scream from somewhere along the passage outside cut her off, Fritha whirling to the sound, though it barely had time to register as a large black shape dropped from the darkness above them to pin the tiefling in a tangle of long spindly legs.

'Haer'Dalis!'

The child went to run but Fritha was too quick for him, grabbing his arm, Jaheira already upon the creature, swinging out her staff to knock it from the bard, the creature skidding across the tomb on its back only to spring to its feet again as it scuttled back towards them, a cluster of bulbous red eyes glimmering faintly just above its fangs and Fritha felt herself recoil from just about the biggest spider she had ever seen. Jaheira was ready for it though, staff drawn back for the killing blow. One swift thrust to its face and the spider was on its back once more, legs twitching in death, the druid immediately turning her attentions to Haer'Dalis who was leant back against the wall clutching his shoulder and looking pale.

'Are you all right?'

'Yes,' he breathed, though he could not seem to manage any more by the way of reassurances. Another roar echoed through the tunnels outside, this time accompanied by the shriek of spiders. Fritha swung the boy on to her back, the child instantly stopping his struggles to fasten his arms about her neck with a grip that could have strangled her. She turned back to the others.

'Do we know the way out?'

Haer'Dalis nodded weakly.

'Well, come on then!'

They ran back along the passage, the sounds of battle growing ever louder until they rounded a corner to find their three would-be hunters caught in a vicious battle with half a dozen of the huge black spiders, ever more seeming to pour from the tombs and crypts around them. Korgan was in the thick of them, though not out of his element it seemed, the dwarf smeared with the green-black gore as he swung and swore at anything that came within range of his axe, Tae at his back, bow in hand while behind them, Aurimas was stood, his staff aloft, white energy bright enough to light the whole tunnel crackling about his head as he called on arcane powers.

'Come on,' shouted Fritha over the din, 'we know the way ou-'

The boy's scream nearly deafened her as a spider dropped from the darkness above, though Jaheira struck it aside before it even reached them.

'Fritha, we've got to go!'

Suddenly, Aurimas swept his staff down, striking it against the dusty stone tiles and fire burst forth to engulf all around him, the creatures finally retreating, Korgan's curses and the shrill screams of burning spiders filling the air.

They ran on, the stitch in Fritha's side like a knife between her ribs, her knees trembling under the weight of the child she carried as they raced along the corridors to finally reach another junction. Haer'Dalis was looking faint by now, the man leaning heavily into Jaheira as he fought to catch his breath.

'Which way?'

'That, that one,' he gasped, raising a trembling hand to the southern passage and they set off again.

Fritha was leading now, the girl beginning to recognise the turns and tunnels and suddenly they were back in the vaulted room where they had first descended. She tore up the steps, the gate bursting open before she even reached it and finally the four of them were out, stood gasping under a pale grey sky.

It was raining lightly, the cold drops speckling Fritha's face, the cobbles and stonework about them drenched and glistening, evidence of the heavier rains which had already been and gone. The alley between the two mausoleums was cramped and they moved at once into narrow lanes of the cemetery proper Haer'Dalis immediately slumping onto a low wall, clutching his arm and breathing heavily as Jaheira tended him, the man sweating profusely though it was cold.

Fritha turned away from them, the feelings of guilt stirring and she settled her attention instead on the one good thing that had resulted from her foolishness.

'You all right back there, my lamb?'

She felt the boy nod into her neck, though he said nothing and Fritha set him gently down to stand on the low wall next to her. The boy seemed reluctant to let go, though he slid off after a little coaxing, Fritha removing her cloak and wrapping it about him against the morning's chill before letting the boy climb onto her back once more. Fritha sighed, turning eastwards to see the sky finally warming, a pale watery yellow creeping into the haze and at her ear there came a whispering. She half turned back, about to ask the child what was wrong when she realised he was not talking to her, all his focus east as he intoned a prayer to the dawn. Fritha felt her heart twist, a hot lump rising in her throat, the panic and fear of before finally dissipating to leave her rather emotional.

'Oh, bless you. We'll soon have you back with Dawnmaster Kreel, okay?'

She felt the arms about her neck tighten in a brief squeeze of acknowledgement, no pause to his worship. A sharp hiss behind her and Fritha turned to see Jaheira drawing what looked to be a broken shard of fang from Haer'Dalis's shoulder, the man grimacing as he drank from a small bottle of viscous brown liquid that did not look particularly appetising and Fritha felt awful all over again.

'Come now, my raven,' Haer'Dalis scolded, sending her a weak smile as Jaheira fussed over the wound, 'don't look at me so. I was as eager for this jaunt as you. And as they say, there is no excitement without risk.'

Fritha sighed. 'Yes, but this trip has ended up with much more of the latter than the former.'

But the bard just laughed, finishing his draft in one final mouthful and hissing as Jaheira pulled the bandage tight in the final knot and took the bottle from his waiting hand.

'Right, the poison should be purged from your system now; can you walk?'

Haer'Dalis nodded, rising stiffly.

'As well as I ever could -though it might be a while before I'm tripping you about a dance floor, my raven,' he added with wink, Fritha sending him a wry smile in return.

'I'll wait.'

Jaheira sighed, shouldering her bag with a smile of her own. 'Well, at least your spirits remain unaffected. Come, with any luck we can get back to the tavern before the others have risen and at least be graced with time enough to take some tea and decide how to best explain this folly.'

It seemed, though, that the last of their luck had been spent in the crypts.

'Fritha!' cried Anomen as the tavern door banged open, four familiar faces instantly glancing up from the table opposite, the knight on his feet a moment later.

'Oh dear,' sighed Haer'Dalis behind her and Fritha felt her stomach lurch in agreement. So much for them getting back before the others even realised they had gone. Aerie was on her feet as well by now, her face already flushed in her temper.

'Where, _in the name of goodness_, have you three been?'

Fritha sighed. She knew well enough how the rest of this was going to pan out, namely badly.

'We've been in the crypts, didn't you get my note?' she asked, sending a questioning look to Minsc who smiled.

'Yes, we found your letter, Boo thought it very droll. Though tomb-breakingis really _ki'tszij_. The word you used, _hagisk_, would be for the looting of the dead _before_ they are buried.'

Jaheira sent Fritha an exasperated look. 'You wrote the note in Rashemi?'

Fritha shrugged. 'I thought it would be good practise -but before we all start screaming and shouting,' she added quickly in the face of Aerie's angry look, 'we have a new addition to our company.'

Fritha turned slightly and there were collective exclamations of astonishment as she let the boy, unnoticed all this while, slide off her back and into the nearest chair.

'Here, my lamb, eat up,' she smiled, quickly serving him some porridge and setting it in front of him, 'we'll soon have you back with all your friends at the seminary.'

'A ch-child?' gasped Aerie, Anomen looking just as shocked.

'The boy from the temple, you found him?'

Fritha nodded. 'Yes, and quite a way from where you lot were looking for him.'

'We also ran into the likely cause of the disappearance,' continued Jaheira, glancing to the boy to add, 'though perhaps it is best we don't speak of that here.'

'What is your name, child?' asked Cernd, sending the boy a concerned look, though he barely glanced up from his food.

'Don't take it personally, Cernd; he hasn't spoken once since we found him,' said Fritha, smiling kindly as she turned her attention back to the child, 'I'll be back in a moment, my lamb, and then we'll return you to the temple. Okay?'

The boy smiled tentatively and nodded.

'Good lad,' said Fritha, gently ruffling his sandy hair as she turned to lead the others away from the table to a corner where they could speak without being overheard.

Cernd lingered though, unwilling to leave the boy alone after his ordeal and for a while he just watched him eat, feeling the silence between them pressing on him. Foolish though he knew it to be, a part of him felt that he should know instinctively how to reach the boy, but he did not and the silence hung over them, broken only by the chink of his spoon, the boy watching the window next to them as he ate.

'So,' Cernd began slowly, unable to bear the silence any longer, 'you were lost in the crypts for six days -did you know it was that long? …No, well, you were very fortunate to have survived all that time… It must have been very frightening… I imagine your family will have been very worried for you -or the priests and your friends at the temple,' he added quickly when he considered that the boy may have been taken into the seminary as an orphan like so many others.

Silence. The boy did not even draw his gaze from the windows. Cernd stifled a sighed, just about to give up when-

'Jarrem.'

Cernd started, wondering if he had just imagined the barely whispered response.

'Jarrem, is that your name?'

The boy seemed not to have heard him, his large grey eyes still fixed on the window as he continued quietly, 'Jarrem will be worried. And Petra too. Jarrem said we should go into the crypts. He thought it would be fun; show the others how brave we are. We all went, me, Jarrem and Petra. There's a hidden way in that the priests don't think we know about, in one of the back rooms in the chapel. We snuck down after lights out; it was dark; we walked along a long tunnel. Petra heard something coming and Jarrem dropped the lantern. We all ran but I fell over and hit my head and when I woke up the others had gone. I found the lantern and tried to find the way out, but I couldn't and there were things.'

'Things?' questioned Cernd. The boy nodded.

'Like spiders, only really big. I had to stay away from them. But I found places to hide; places where water seeped down and mosses grew. They tasted horrible but I ate them anyway.'

Cernd swallow dryly. 'It must have been very frightening, to have been down there all alone.'

The boy shook his head, finally turning from the window to look at him, his young face solemn and looking much older in the weak sunlight.

'I was very frightened, yes, but I was not alone. It was like Sister Eleni says: Lathander is always with us. I knew He would send someone for me.' The boy paused a moment, considering Cernd with an thoughtful look. 'My name is Mihel… Can I have some more porridge, please?'

The druid smiled and reached for the pot.

...

Fritha stood, silent and waiting for the uproar to begin. She had just finished her account of their expedition. Her confession that not only had they gone to the crypts, but that they had made enemies of another mercenary group _and _stirred up a spider's nest in the process had been received as well as she had imagine it would, Aerie before them now and looking rather imposing for one who was usually so meek, her eyes blazing as she stared at the three of them in a manner rather reminded Fritha of Jaheira.

'So am I to understand that you not only went to loot some tome from the city crypts, but in order to do so you _stole_ the map to its location from a group of _violent mercenaries_? What were the three of you _thinking_?'

Fritha frowned, rather wondering the same herself.

'Well, we really didn't think they would find out until at least the morning -and not one of us could have predicted this spiders' nest.'

'But that you even went in the first place. Stealing a map! Going to the crypts alone! It was so dangerous!'

'Yes, well that is something I am coming to realise myself,' Fritha agreed tiredly, 'but everything seemed like a much better idea last night. I think you just had to have been there, Aerie; there was rebellion in the air.'

'What rot! And I cannot believe you would even _consider_ tomb-robbing!'

'We were nottomb-robbing, my dove,' soothed Haer'Dalis, 'We were not down there scavenging for anything we could find, we just went to fetch this book-'

'It makes no difference _what_ you went to steal!'

'Come now, little Aerie,' interrupted Minsc calmly, 'what need have the dead of anything? Their spirits are no longer of this plane, free of mortal desires.'

Fritha nodded her agreement, rather impressed with this stance and more than glad he seemed to be on their side in all this; you could not help but feel better when Minsc was at your back. The elf merely snorted though, turning instantly to the man at her side.

'Anomen, don't you have anything to say?'

'No,' he answered stonily, looking down at them with a cold disappointment that inspired more regret in Fritha than any of Aerie's anger had, 'I would only waste my breath.'

'Well,' Fritha continued stalwartly, 'now we have all said our piece, we need to get our young charge back to the temple. I'm sure the Dawnmaster will be glad to have him returned however we came about finding him.'

xxx

Aerie adjusted her grip on her staff, the walls about them glistening wetly as her werelight flickered with the movement, the crypts that had seemed so dull before taking on a whole new fear for her as she imagined the spiders that skittered and chattered in every shadow; how that poor boy must have suffered down there.

Fritha had been right. Dawnmaster Kreel had been overjoyed to find his young charge still alive and unharmed, Mihel walking the way back to the temple between Fritha and Cernd, still wrapped in the girl's cloak and talking quietly with the pair of them as they went.

Kreel was less pleased, however, once he had discovered just how the child had been found, though he seemed a touch more impressed with Fritha's excuses than Aerie herself had been: the girl sternly telling him she would have never gone to the crypts for just _any_ treasure but books were something that should not be buried from the world, the Dawnmaster addressing her as 'child of Oghma' and decreeing that any misdeeds on their part would be overlooked if they would agree to join himself and a group of warrior-priests in destroying this spiders' nest.

And so there they were, walking north west through the crypts, the walls about them damp as they drew closer to the river, and according to Father Lytham, that section of the vaults had not been used in centuries.

Aerie let her attention focus on the soft glow of her werelight, trying to ignore the thought of all that water and stone above, the press of bodies around her merely intensifying the feeling. With their group and the Lathandites as well, they numbered twelve, a dozen people hemming her in to that dank endless tunnel. How it would be if fight were to break out there? Bodies all pressing in, the noise and the confusion of the battle engulfing her and Aerie was forced to deepen her breathing as she felt her panic rise. The man at her side glanced to her but said nothing.

Haer'Dalis had led them back to where he, Fritha and Jaheira has first been attacked, the fire-scorched walls the only trace left of the mercenaries they had wronged, and from there, they had continued northwards towards the river, following Mihel's tales of water and, more recently, the trail of webs.

Aerie let her eyes wander to the man next to her, the glow of her werelight highlighting the scars along his cheeks. She had learnt later that Haer'Dalis had been injured in his flight from the crypts and she could tell by the way he was holding his arm now that it was still a source of some discomfort. She knew, though, that since their quarrel he would not be the one to ask for her aid and Aerie had to keep reminding herself she was cross with him as she fretted and frowned and almost offered to help anyway. She watched as he shrugged his bag into a more comfortable position, wincing slightly as he did so and Aerie finally relented.

'Here, let me look,' she sighed, a hand already moving towards him, though he shifted slightly, suddenly just out of reach.

'It is fine, my dove, Jaheira tended it earlier -besides, it was no more than I deserved, aye?'

'You know I would never wish for you to be hurt!' Aerie snapped, stung that he was being so cool with her, especially when it was he who was in the wrong, 'I just cannot understand how you did not see the danger in the first instance!'

Haer'Dalis sighed. 'Yes, it was very foolish, I will admit.'

'I was so worried when I awoke in the morning and found you were not in your room.'

'Well, I am sorry for that; it was not my intention to distress you.'

A pause, the elf watching him carefully from the corner of her eye.

'You are always out drinking with Fritha.'

Haer'Dalis smiled a strange mix of roguish and tired to the gesture. 'Ah, now _that_ you will not make me regret, my dove.'

Aerie frowned, feeling cross and anxious.

'Why do you spend so much time with her?'

'Because she needs the company and I for one enjoy it. We have a laugh together,' he offered with a careless shrug, perhaps implying that lately_ they_ did not and Aerie felt her indignation pique.

'A _laugh?_ Is that what you would call theft and crypt-breaking?'

'Well, you must admit it served as ample distraction from her troubles.'

'Oh, so all this idiocy was for Fritha's benefit?'

'Do not blame her in this, Aerie,' he cut in, unusually firm, 'Stealing the map, going to the crypts: they were both my idea.'

'You always do that. You always take her side.' Aerie hesitated wondering if she even wanted to know the answer as she asked, 'Do- do you like her, Haer'Dalis?'

He sent her a very stern look. 'Aye, very much. But if you are asking if my affections run deeper, Aerie, then perhaps it is not _my_ regard you should be questioning.'

Aerie opened her mouth to refute it, but the slight delay to her protestations seemed to be enough for the bard, Haer'Dalis throwing up his hands with a frustrated sigh.

'Enough, I can argue with you about this no more. Look, the ptarmigan seems to wish your ear as well.'

Aerie followed his nod to find Jaheira sending them a curious look, and by the time she had turned back to the bard he was no longer at her side, the man dropping back to walk at their rear, almost lost in the gloom.

'So, you and the tiefling are on your usual good terms.'

Aerie glanced back at the voice. Jaheira had fallen into step with her, though her eyes remained forward, alert as she scanned the shadows about them.

'That is none of your business!' Aerie snapped sharply.

'Then perhaps you should refrain from airing your grievances so _stridently_ and keep it that way.'

Aerie felt her jaw tighten, the embarrassment merely fuelling her temper.

'I feel my _grievances_ are more than justified under the circumstances. The pair of them off _tomb-robbing_ of all things, with little care as to their own safety or the dishonesty of such acts -and I cannot believe _you_ went with them.'

But Jaheira seemed unruffled by this accusatory stance.

'I hold up my hands, I did. But are you still truly so angry about that or is it that Haer'Dalis and Fritha once again skipped off on some jaunt without you?'

Aerie was suddenly glad for the gloom as she coloured fiercely; she could hardly believe the druid's cheek! And yet for all her outrage she could not quite quell the small sad voice buried inside her that said the woman was getting close to the truth of it. Aerie paused, her face dropping as she at last admitted, 'I don't like way they are together lately. Always laughing at some joke of their own, sharing sly looks and smiles.'

Jaheira nodded contemplatively. 'I will admit, it worried me at first as well-'

'_You _were worried?' exclaimed the elf, 'Why would you even care?'

'You really wish to know? I thought Fritha and Haer'Dalis a poor match,' Jaheira said with a frankness that left Aerie speechless, 'but my thoughts on this changed as I watched them in tombs last night. The way they worked and related to each other: they are very close, yes, and comfortable in each others company –too comfortable, in fact. No romance unrealised was ever borne with so little tension.' Jaheira glanced to her briefly, her expression softening somewhat, 'Fritha does not look at the bard that way, Aerie, and it is the same for Haer'Dalis; they are more like siblings than lovers.'

Aerie shook her head, the unhappiness she had been ignoring for so long now, suddenly at the fore and almost enough to overwhelm her.

'You don't know what its like! Haer'Dalis and I argue more and more. I try to get him to open his heart, to ease him of the pain I know he has felt and feels still. But he is so stubborn; he clings to his grief and calls it a philosophy! And then I am forced to watch them laughing together, him so open and relaxed –to know at the end of every quarrel he had stormed off to confide in _her_…' Aerie hung her head, hating how she sounded, even as she spoke.

'You suspect Haer'Dalis of… _disloyalty_?' asked Jaheira, her incredulous tone indicating that she did not believe it even if Aerie did. The elf shook her head.

'Not at all, but I wonder if he did not wish that another had claim to his loyalties.'

Aerie turned away, letting her eyes drift over the cold lifeless stone that surrounded them, wishing her heart was the same, not such a fragile sensitive thing that came to pain so easily. She had been suffering the worry for a while now, that she and Haer'Dalis had little in common and no future together, and that, sooner or later, he would realise the same and start looking elsewhere. And, despite what Jaheira had said about his regard being more brotherly, in Aerie's mind there really was not far for him to look.

'Fritha, she is so witty and bright and yet touched by dark things as well -she relates to him in way I never could, and- and it makes me so _angry_ whenever I think about it, that it poisons time we have together. I pick and pick at him, getting us into these silly little arguments and just making things worse. Even when I know I am doing it, I still cannot seem to stop myself.' Aerie sighed, feel utterly miserable, 'You think I am stupid, don't you?'

Jaheira shook her head.

'No, I think you are young, just as we all were once -including myself, though you may doubt it,' she added with the slightest of smiles. 'You did not know Khalid, but be assured that it is not just the boasting of a proud and very much in love wife when I tell you he was among the most handsome of men. I am aware I am no great beauty, despite how Khalid may have professed to see differently, and in the beginning of our relationship, I found myself looking around at all the fairer women of our company, wondering whether he was looking at them too and my jealousy grew without check. But then I came to realise, as our time together went on and Khalid's affections remained true, that my envy was merely a reflection of my own insecurities. I had never cared before about my appearance, why should I suddenly be jealous of others' beauty now?

'It was my fear of losing Khalid, this man on whom I had come to so rely upon. And when it became evident that no number of pretty faces could tempt him from my side, my jealously faded as it should.' Jaheira sent her an understanding smile, 'It is easy to look about you and find the pleasing qualities in others, but just because it is more difficult to see them in ourselves does not mean they are not there and they are likely just as obvious to other people as theirs are to you. Haer'Dalis chose to be with you, Aerie, and seems more than resolved on his decision despite your recent troubles; do not let your own insecurities blind you to his regard.'

Aerie continued to stare up at her even as Jaheira had turned back to their path, the druid's profile sharp and noble, every plane and line brought into relief in the mossy green of her werelight. What must it have taken for her to share such memories? And Aerie felt both ashamed and touched that the woman cared enough to be willing to do so.

And as for Haer'Dalis, it was not that she did not love him, and she knew he loved her, but they could not seem to help but hurt one another, him with his merry detachment and she with her jealously guarded desire to help him. Perhaps it was as Jaheira had said; perhaps they were just a poor match. A round of laughter behind her, Aerie looking back to find Haer'Dalis and Fritha thick as thieves once more, the man glancing up to catch her eye and send her a smile. Aerie sighed once and weakly returned it.

--

Fritha watched as Haer'Dalis threw up his hands and turned on his heel, another fight with Aerie driving him past priests and knights to the back of their group where she had been walking alone and the girl sent him a commiserating smile.

'How's Aerie?'

'As reasonable as ever,' he murmured tightly, 'What happened to all the blame for this jaunt falling on Jaheira?'

Fritha shrugged. 'I suppose it just goes to show, sparrow, no man can escape his fate.'

'Well, we are not men, we are bards; we are above such rules.'

'Are we indeed?' she laughed, Haer'Dalis's arrogance nothing if not bolstering. 'Well, then what is your bardic self going to do about this latest quarrel with your good lady?'

'Why, let us at least have some sport from this tragedy; take a guess, my raven.'

Fritha made a show of giving it a moment's deep consideration.

'Hmm… Sulk, whinge and then go and make up with her?'

'You know me too well,' Haer'Dalis snorted, his manner suddenly serious as he looked to her, 'She asked if I am in love with you.'

Fritha almost laughed. 'Well, that's a fair enough assumption; so many men are.'

'Really, my raven,' sighed Haer'Dalis, though he could not hide his smile, 'I despair of her, truly, I do.'

'Poor sparrow. Love is many things, but _simple_ is not one of them.'

'Love is _very_ simple. Relationships, however, are _not_.'

Fritha laughed brightly.

'Ah, Aerie is probably just cross with you because we worried her; I'm sure she'll forgive you soon.'

But Haer'Dalis shook his head, frowning as though he was trying to understand something just beyond his ken.

'No, it is something more. Even when we are at peace there is a tension to the air, ever since we left Trademeet, though I am damned if I know what is the cause.'

'Well, whatever it _is_, I doubt hanging around back here with me is going to provide you with any revelations on the subject.' Fritha sent him a stern look, 'The only way to solve things between you two is to talk to her… you _do_ want to resolve things, don't you?'

'Of course! But I have tried to speak with her on several occasions now and she just says _nothing_ is wrong.' He sighed, folding his arms and pursing his lips in a very good imitation of the elf. Fritha sighed too, smiling in spite of herself. She liked Haer'Dalis. He was a good friend who could see the dark humour in that sometimes cruel and bitter existence, and even the worst of situations did not seem so bad when she could share a quip and a grim smile with him.

'Well…' Fritha began slowly, trying to reason the thing out in her own mind, 'perhaps it is some sort of test. Aerie has suffered a lot; losing all she held dear so early on in her life. Perhaps subconsciously she is worried she will lose you as well and she is testing you, seeing how far she can push you away to test your affection for her.'

'Do you think so?'

'Well, why else would she be doing this?'

'Because underneath that sweet exterior beats the black heart of a true Loviatari!'

They both laughed at that, the idea that Aerie was anything but the shy (and sometimes shrewish) elf who was so full of tender care for the world about her was an amusing one, the girl herself glancing back at the noise and Fritha watched her send the man a small smile.

'Oh Hells take me, I love her,' Haer'Dalis sighed, still grinning, 'Right, this sparrow is once more off to try and make amends.'

Fritha thumped him soundly on the back. 'That's the spirit!'

And Fritha watched the man quicken his pace to rejoin the elf, Jaheira suddenly (and subtly) needed at their head and Fritha smiled; as Haer'Dalis was often heard to remark, 'All's well…'

The girl stopped, the smile suddenly frozen on her face, Anomen glancing back as the tiefling passed him to catch her eye, Fritha trying and failing to pretend she had not noticed, but it was too late.

'Hello Anomen,' she greeted, her stomach somewhere in the vicinity of her boots as he dropped back a few paces to join her. Anomen sent her a stiff nod.

'My lady.'

After a night of no sleep and much strain, Fritha was not blessed with her usual abundance of patience.

'Look, if you're still angry with me, then you can just go _right_ back to where you were walking before and disapprove from afar!'

Her irritation seemed to shake Anomen from his coolness, his voice milder as he assured, 'I am not angry with you, my lady, merely… disappointed.'

'That I went to the crypts?'

'That you did not think to inform me –_before_ the act. I would have attended with you.'

Fritha blinked owlishly, not really sure what to say to something so wholly unexpected.

'Oh, well, I'm sorry, Anomen, but to be honest, I didn't think you would want to come. I did not imagine it would be something you 'd approve of.'

Anomen returned his attention to their path, a little of his previous coldness creeping back in.

'I do not, but since you would have gone whatever _I_ thought of the matter, I would have attended with you regardless.'

There was not much Fritha could say to that and they walked on in silence, the crypts about them cold and damp in the combined blue-white of their werelights.

'I just cannot understand why you would wish to endanger yourself on such a clearly reckless task?' Anomen burst out with a sudden frustration, 'Are we so desperate for coin?'

Fritha sighed, wishing she could somehow make him realise that the rules and ranks he found so supportive merely stifled her.

'Anomen, it was not about the coin -I mean, it _was_, it's just… Well, what everyone expects of me, this role I must play: the responsible leader, it just jars sometimes. When I told Aerie rebellion was in the air I was not exactly exaggerating.' Fritha sighed again at his troubled frown; he did not understand. 'Look at it this way, Anomen, if we hadn't gone then we would not have found Mihel, or the spiders or anything.'

'I cannot believe you would even try to use that as an excuse.'

'I'm not, I'm just saying-'

'Can you imagine what it was like? Aerie appearing at my door to tell me that the three of you were just gone. And then Minsc arrives with your letter, which, for someone usually so content to talk, was very sparing with the details! How would you have felt?'

Fritha paused a moment, putting herself in his place, stood there before an undoubtedly distraught Aerie, Minsc appearing with a letter that explained that three of their group had disappeared off to the city crypts.

'Well… that would be fine. You've left a note; I know where you've gone and you're all capable enough. If you hadn't returned by breakfast, I would be worried and perhaps go looking for you…' she tailed off, something dawning on her, '_I_ know what this is: _I_ trust you not to do anything stupid, and you don't trust me to be the same!'

Anomen shook his head gravely. 'No, I think you are as capable as any of us. But it only takes one moment, one unexpected crisis, as this case is a prime example, and I- I just could not bear to see you hurt for want of my presence.'

Fritha sighed inwardly; just like his sister had been. She sent him a sympathetic look, her tone gentle.

'Anomen, I am not Moira.'

Anomen snorted. 'Of that fact I am _more_ than aware, my lady.'

But Fritha was not so sure he was…

'Look, Anomen, whether you like it or not, I am a mercenary and will remain so for the foreseeable future and there will always be a certain element of risk to my life.'

'I understand this, but must you go looking for trouble?' Anomen sighed, shaking his head, 'I would just ask that in future you would tell me before you go rushing so carelessly into danger.'

'I can't do that! What if I'm doing something you can't conscience?'

He turned to her with a measured look. 'I can guard my own morals, my lady and _I_ will make the decision as to whether or not I join you –or merely report you to the Watch,' he added, his lips twitching.

'Anomen!' she cried laughingly, 'You would as well, wouldn't you?' Fritha sighed, 'All right, I promise… that I'll try.'

Anomen nodded once, still smiling slightly. 'I suppose that is the best I can hope for.'

Fritha smiled too, glancing up as the two priests before them slowed, the group seemingly coming to a halt and she pushed her way to their head to see they had come to a junction, water dripping from the ceiling like rain, the tunnels that stretched off in either direction both thick with webs. Father Lytham was stood to one side with Minsc, while Jaheira was crouched at the fork examining something and beneath the grime Fritha could see the dull glint of metal, the woman's werelight highlighting the curved crescent edges of a double-headed axe.

The druid glanced up, lifting the weapon from the slimy floor.

'Do you recognise this?'

'Korgan's axe…' Fritha confirmed, 'So they didn't escape then.'

'So it would seem.'

Fritha frowned, gazing left and then right along the tunnels that seemed to stretch on endlessly, trying to see as far along each as she could, before both were lost to the darkness.

'Time is running out for them, if it has not already…' She turned to the priest behind her. 'Father, do your maps show anything, any chambers or vaults where these spiders could have made their nest?'

Lytham sighed and shook his silvery head. 'I fear not child. My maps do not stretch this far. We have been following your friends' skills alone for a while now.'

Fritha turned instantly to the ranger. 'Are there any tracks?'

Minsc nodded grimly. 'Yes, young Fritha, everywhere! And too many to show any favour for either passage.'

'They could have more than one nest,' Fritha offered eventually, turning to address the Dawnmaster who had been watching them patiently all that while, 'What do you think; should we split up?'

Kreel frowned, glancing briefly along the tunnels as she had.

'I would rather we did not. Our strength is in our numbers and I will not lose any more people to this. We stay together.'

Fritha nodded, turning back to the group behind her. 'Okay, who's got a coin? Thanks, Haer'Dalis. Right then, Swords we go left; wreaths and it's right.'

The coin flashed as it spun in the torchlight, Fritha catching it neatly to slap it on the back of her opposite hand and gingerly lift her fingers

'Okay, right it is then, and Tymora take the blame.'

Tymora was clearly more interested in taking the credit though. It was not far down the right-hand tunnel when the webs began to thicken, hanging from the uneven roof in great sweeping curtains and swags, sometimes covering the way completely and would have to be hacked through, the wispy remains clinging to clothes and armour like of tattered remnants of burial shrouds.

They had adjusted their formation when they had halted before, Fritha now more to the centre of their group with Aerie, Lytham and other less armoured of their companions, Jaheira just before her and not looking very happy that her view had now been reduced to Anomen's broad plated back. About them, the tunnel walls were becoming uneven, covered in dry brown crust that Fritha thought looked similar to papier-mâché though what it truly was she did not like to contemplate.

'Hold a moment,' someone called quietly at their head, Fritha slowing her pace just in time to prevent her from walking into Jaheira. 'It's opening out.'

A few more steps and the confining tunnel walls finally fell away, their lights and lamps illuminating a vast natural cavern, the rough stone covered in webs and the same papery substance as the passage had been and Fritha felt like she was walking in to a huge wasps' nest.

The chamber seemed to be empty though, the spiders perhaps still out hunting in the crypts, and Fritha let her gaze travel the cave as the others spread out about her. The distant ceiling was still lost to darkness despite their lights, and she let her eyes fall to the uneven walls that surrounded her, heavily webbed bulges hung here and there and Fritha wondered if they were egg clutches. She moved over to examine the nearest, suspended just low enough for her to reach, the girl stretching up a tentative hand to part the lower webs and starting back with a cry as she uncovered a gaunt desiccated face, jaw slack and eyes rolled back from where he had been hung upside-down.

'It is Dervick,' sighed Lytham, suddenly at her side, a hand resting kindly on her shoulder, 'one of the priest we sent down here. Poor man, though at least his soul is with Lathander now. Come away, child; I shall call one of the men to cut down the-'

'I- I think I've found something,' someone called quietly from the far side of the chamber, Fritha moving towards the voice, a strange rumbling growing louder as they approached until she realised, to her confusion, it was snoring and she suppressed a laugh as in her mind she saw the dwarf, Korgan, taking a well-earned nap on a mountain of dead spiders. The cavern floor was uneven there, littered with bones and armour and other rubbish that seemed to have spilled from the large heap of debris that had been piled against the far wall and there, atop it all, sat what could only be described as the vilest mix of spider and woman head lolling as she snored loudly.

She was grossly fat and quite naked save for the thick black hair that hung about her in greasy matted tendrils, six long spindly arms protruding from the mound of mottled grey-white flesh, long dark-nippled breasts hanging sack-like to rest on her bloated gut. Suddenly the snoring stopped, the creature stirring as the light fell upon her, all six arms straining to manoeuvre her sheer bulk as she turned to them until she settled once more in her nest, bulbous red eyes looking down on them all with a remarkably satisfied look.

'What is this?' she cried, her voice shrill and slightly lisped from between the two huge mandibles that protruded from her mouth, 'Meat now walks willingly into the webs of Ceaturl?'

'What are you?' demanded Kreel, the Dawnmaster clearly having to force himself to speak past his disgust, 'Identify yourself, creature!'

The woman cackled, the flesh of her body trembling unpleasantly. 'Oooo, chatty meat, wants to talk.' She cast an appraising look over their group, 'Hmm, I will indulge your questions for now. I am Ceaturl, of the race chitine.'

'A chitine?' confirmed Jaheira with a frown, 'And what are you doing here? Your kind usually keep to the Underdark.'

Ceaturl nodded once and slowly. 'Yes, that is so. Exiled I am, exiled from Yathchol and cursed with it -cursed with a hunger that will never be sated.'

'It appears you have been making a worthy attempt to though,' muttered Haer'Dalis. The creature shot him a poisonous look, multifaceted eyes sparkling like cut bloodstones.

'You do not understand the hunger,' she snapped, spittle flecking her many chins, 'I _must_ feed! Banished from my home caverns, I wandered without end, feasting on all I could find -alive or carrion, it mattered not- but it was not enough and the hunger tore at my belly and I grew thin and weak. I was nearly dead when I stumbled upon the crypts beneath your city and in my desperation I cried out to my brothers and sister in Lloth, and to my salvation, they came, gathering from the caverns that stretch far outside the boundaries of your city. Together we hunted these crypts, so full of fresh bodies and sometimes even fresher victims, and I grew fat on the spoils and when I could no longer carry my own weight, I made this nest. Here, I sit, matron of my family as my spiders comb these tunnels, sometimes even braving the world above to bring me meat.'

Ceaturl smiled, triumphant in her foulness, revealing a mouth of uneven yellow fangs, 'Exiled me they did, thought to punish me, kill me. Ha! I have a new family now and a new home too, and I grow fat and happy in my nest.'

Kreel seemed to swell with her elation, the Dawnmaster throwing his hand and the mace it held out at her, his face a picture of righteous fury.

'Your spiders are an unnatural plague here and they have preyed on their last innocent! By Lathander's Light, your monstrous existence ends this day!'

'Is that so?' Ceaturl cackled, letting her eyes flick pointedly upwards, Fritha following her gaze to the distant cavern roof, dark with the same shadows that swathed the rest of the crypts, when her werelight caught the faint glimmer of clustered red eyes and she realised to her terror that the darkness there was no mere absence of light, the cavern roof rippling with the blackness of scores upon scores of huge black spiders.

Fritha heard herself gasp, Jaheira's curse and Aerie's choked cry sounding somewhere behind her as they no doubt noticed the same and at her side Anomen glanced briefly to her reaction, his eyes unable to make out the horror that was just an instant away. The chitine smiled, her fangs glistening wetly.

'Attack! Kill the meat!'

And suddenly the cavern descended into chaos, the air filling with shouts and screams as dark shapes dropped from the shadows above them, all tangled legs and yawing fangs, Ceaturl's screeched encouragements echoing overhead.

Anomen swore, scooping Fritha under his shield as one of the creatures lunged from the darkness above them, the spider scrabbling against the cold metal curve before he managed to throw it off, the creature now sprawled beneath them, all eight legs flailing, though Fritha was already upon the thing, stabbing her sword through the spider's unprotected abdomen, others closing in about them, ready to take its place.

Their group had been scattered, Haer'Dalis, Jaheira and one of the warrior-priests hemmed against the northern wall and almost overwhelmed in the sea of spiders that surrounded them, others of their company reaching the shelter of the tunnel mouth, Aerie and Lytham stood behind Cernd and the other two warrior-priests, working furiously to call forth their magicks as the men held back the hoard. A deep sonorous groan filled the chamber, Lytham holding his hands aloft as he chanted, and it was as though the ceiling above them had cracked open to the midday sky, spiders shrieking as the cavern was suddenly bathed in glorious yellow light, Ceaturl shying from it even as she screamed to them.

'No, my siblings, ignore the others, get to the spellcasters!'

'To the witch!' roared Kreel, Minsc taking up the call, the pair of them battling their way through the spiders that surrounded them to reach Ceaturl's nest, the men slowly climbing the pile of bones and refuse to get to the creature herself. She was more than ready for them though, her six spindly arms bearing an assortment of weapons, her varied arsenal seemingly made up of anything she could find; a pair of rusted swords, a broken dagger, a small buckler and what looked to be a sharpened thigh bone, all being wielded with a coordination that was staggering, the two men kept off balance and at bay on the shifting debris.

Fritha ducked, Anomen bringing his shield around just in time to take the spider from the air, a single swing of his mace making sure it did not move against them again, Fritha already turned and intercepting another that had just made a lunge for his back, clawed front legs held high, the girl lopping both off in a single swipe to send them scattering across the floor, still twitching where they lay, the creature itself soon to join them.

Jaheira parried the stab to her legs, angling her staff under the spider to make thrust at its thorax, Haer'Dalis hacking down another with an uncharacteristic viciousness, and she wondered if he was not taking his revenge for his previous lack of vigilance, the woman sending a nod of thanks to the man on her other side as the Lathandite, Hagos, took another out of the air above her with a sweep of his sword. Jaheira swung out again, her staff connecting with a head this time to send another spider reeling; they were holding their own but just barely, and she knew that at this rate it would not be long before they were overrun, thoughts that were being shared by another across the cavern.

Cernd knocked one creature back with his staff, only just whirling in time to guard against an attack by another, the priest next to him constantly in motion using shield and mace in perfect unison as the pair of them fought to hold the tunnel, the spiders that surrounded them stretching as far as he could see, some climbing the walls around them to drop from above and it was all they could do just to hold their position. Though with seemingly limitless enemies and fatigue creeping, Cernd knew it would not be long before they were overwhelmed.

It was already beginning to happen, the druid glancing behind him to check on their casualty, the priest lain out in the tunnel behind them, the man convulsing as the poison took affect, Lytham trying to force some tincture down his throat. But that could not hold his attention long, Cernd's gaze drawn in avertedly to Aerie, the girl stood eyes closed, her hair moving about her as though stirred by some ethereal breeze and the druid could almost taste the ozone to the air as a huge ball of burning light began to build between her hands.

'Get down!' he shouted, the Lathandite at his side just heeding him in time, the backlash as she released it nearly knocking Cernd flat and the cavern was at once illuminated in flicking firelight, the swarm of spiders before them suddenly ablaze, those not dead shrieking as they scattered wildly.

Ceaturl's scream drowned out them all though, her rage-twisted face lit by fires of her burning brethren. She lunged for the two men, no more on the defensive, her arms weaving in a furious dance as she pressed for an opening to strike out at them. Minsc lunged forward to make an attack of his own, managing to dodge the sword that was swung at his head though her dagger was another matter, the broken blade sliding under his pauldron to score the flesh beneath, the ranger roaring as he swung his sword up to take off the arm that wielded it at the upper elbow, Kreel sweeping two other arms aside with his shield to send his mace smashing into the back of her skull.

Her final scream echoed about them, a tocsin for the remaining spiders, the creatures suddenly scattering, panicked and instinctive, scuttling up the rough cavern walls to disappear into unseen cracks and fissures, Aerie and the others at the tunnel having to duck, a sea of writhing black pouring overhead as others escaped into the crypts. Anomen lowered his shield, Fritha sheathing her blade and sending him a relieved half-smile in the glow of their werelights that he could do naught but return; that had all been a little too close for comfort.

'Is everyone all right?' Jaheira's voice echoed somewhere north of them.

'Anomen and I are fine.'

'Yes,' agreed Aerie, 'Tynan's been hurt but Father Lytham is tending him.'

'Minsc and I are unharmed,' confirmed Kreel, the man moving unsteadily down the pile of debris, the ranger just behind him and the rest of their company gathering to join them at the foot, the wounded Tynan still looking a touch groggy, supported by Lytham and another of his Lathandite brothers.

Kreel sighed, sheathing his mace as he gazed at the carnage about them, his eyes lingering a moment on the bloated corpse of the chitine, that now lay slumped and still atop her throne of filth.

'And so it is over. It is my deepest regret that we were not in time to save my brothers from the temple, though at least we are able to give them a proper burial.'

'So what now?' ask Fritha quietly.

'Well, your service to us is concluded; you can attend the temple later for the payment that was promised. As for us, we will take a torch to this place and send more warriors down for any remaining spiders; that their mistress is dead should weaken them greatly and I have hopes they will return to the caverns that were originally their homes.'

'Here! Ye lot!' shouted a rough voice, echoing about the cavern and making it all the harder to find the source, each of them turning this way and that, lights finally falling upon two cocoons hung at about head-height on the southern wall, both tightly shrouded in webs and struggling violently. A face had half emerged from one, bright red from the effort, stray webs clinging to his long beard.

'Aye, ye lot! Cease yer jabbering and get me down from here!'

'Korgan!' cried Fritha, seemingly overjoyed at finding their would-be murderers, the girl gingerly picking her way over to them through the charred corpses of dead spiders that littered the floor. Behind her, the others dispersed, the majority of her own group moving to join her, Minsc and Kreel remaining where they were to continue their talk, while Cernd moved to help the priests cut down and examine the other bodies. 'And Tae too,' continued Fritha cheerfully as she reached them, her werelight illuminating the cavern wall in icy blue, 'you're alive!'

'Yeah, no thanks to you!' the man snapped, Haer'Dalis slowly shaking his head and tutting like a disappointed tutor.

'Now, now, berk, the key to staying with the living is knowing when to fight and when to flee. We called to you and you stayed to battle those spiders of your own choosing; you cannot lay this at our door.'

'_You stole our map!_'

'But where's Aurimas?' continued Fritha, blithely ignoring Tae's outrage, 'Is he…' she tailed off, eyes running apprehensively over the cocooned bodies about them.

'Is he Hells!' snorted Korgan, 'That blasted mage upped skirts and ran as soon as the battle began to turn. Now get us _down _from here!'

Fritha sent the dwarf an appraising look. 'Now, if we release you, you've got to promise not to kill me.'

Korgan stared down at her, beady black eyes narrowed and full of loathing.

'Aye, I give ye me word,' he spat eventually, as though pained to force it from his mouth, 'though me axe may never forgive me it.'

'_Dwarves' honour?_' Fritha pressed in a sing-song voice.

'Someone get this lues-addled wench away from me _AND GET ME DOWN FROM HERE!_'

'Watch your tongue, dwarf,' snapped Anomen coldly, 'or this place will be your tomb.'

'Really, Fritha!' Jaheira sighed, thinking the dwarf's anger was hardly unwarranted as she moved to cut him down, Fritha helping her as Anomen and Haer'Dalis moved to aid his human companion. The webs parted easily enough before a knife's edge and the pair finally struggled free, Tae still looking rather unsteady on his legs, while Korgan brushed himself off roughly before receiving his axe back from Jaheira with a nod.

'There, that's better,' Korgan muttered, giving the weapon an affectionate pat as he slipped it back into his belt, 'Let's go, Tae, and find that gutless bastard, Aurimas. He'll soon learn that cowards reap their own rewards.' Korgan laughed grimly, turning to Fritha and Haer'Dalis, 'And if either of ye see me again about the city's alehouses, ye best be avoiding me, lest the beer go to me head and I be forgetting me oath, aye?'

He did not wait for any answer, just stalked off, Tae giving their group one last, and rather impotent, glare before hurrying after the dwarf. Aerie whirled immediately to the two bards.

'Well, I hope this has taught you both a valuable lesson.'

'Indeed, it has, my dove. Next time we stay and make sure the fools are so deep into their cups they cannot even _see,_ before we go following any maps we've filched.'

'_Haer'Dalis!_ -And don't _you_ encourage him!' Aerie snapped as Fritha continued to laugh.

'Fritha, a moment of your time if you please,' called Dawnmaster Kreel, neatly forestalling Aerie's haranguing just long enough for her to make her escape. Anomen let the sounds of Aerie and Haer'Dalis's relatively one-sided quarrel wash over him as he watched Fritha, the girl talking excitedly with the Lathandite and Minsc.

And when they finally emerged from the tombs an hour later, under a waning afternoon sun, Fritha quickly made her excuses, citing much to do at the theatre, and quit their company; though Anomen could not help but note that it was not the direction of the Bridge in which she hurried off.


	61. Before the storm

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

-Blackcross & Taylor

**Before the storm**

Jaheira gazed at the window next to her and the darkened street beyond, the deep indigo sky finally beginning to lighten to the east. She knew all seasons had their place and purpose in the greater balance, but for all that, she did not have the same affinity with winter as she did the others. The way the darkness seemed to creep in with each day as though the world was to be lost in eternal night made her long for the spring more than any amount of cold weather ever could.

'It is difficult to believe it is indeed the morning, is it not?' came a voice before her and she turned back to see Cernd, the man sat across the table from her as they shared an early breakfast in the common room of the Coronet. 'Look,' he smiled, turning his gaze to the window as hers had been, 'even the moon defies it.'

Jaheira followed his hand to the waning orb that still hung, bright and pale in the skies above them, the woman sending him a smile as she returned her attention back to the table and the basket of warm bread rolls the maid had just set upon it. Cernd had offered the previous day to be the one to deliver their ill-fated tome to Mekrath, since he was the only one of their company whom the mage would not recognise, and she had volunteered to attend with him. The map Haer'Dalis had stolen actually had the details of an alternative entrance into Mekrath's stronghold on the reverse, so at least they would not have to trudge through the sewers to meet him.

Jaheira reached out to take a roll from the basket before her, parting it easily with her thumb and spreading it with butter. If she was honest, there was really no reason for them to be leaving so early anyway, but this book felt like a curse and she wanted it out of their possession and this whole episode behind them as soon as possible, especially when their greatest trial was the one yet to be faced. Jaheira glanced up as footfalls on the stairs caught her attention, Anomen descending in to the tavern wearing his cloak and the same dull look he had retired with the previous evening. For a moment, it seemed he would head straight for the doors, but then he noticed them, politely approaching the table and the three exchanged a greeting.

'You are awake early, Anomen,' Jaheira continued, 'I would have thought anyone who could would sleep in until the noon.'

'I wished to attend matins at the temple,' he answered shortly, and though he gave no reasoning, it was plain from his expression he had much on his mind. Their deadline for meeting with the Vampire Guild was that night. Jaheira nodded, feeling suddenly drained herself.

'I see, well…'

She trailed off as the sound of another, more eager, guest, clattered down into the tavern as well. Fritha was already cloaked as the knight was, her bag slung across her back and small pile of books under one arm, the girl hurrying over to their table as she saw them and Jaheira could not help but notice that, in spite of everything, Anomen's face seemed to lighten slightly.

'Morning, you two all set to go?' Fritha greeted the druids, not waiting for an answer as she turned to the knight to exclaim, 'Goodness, you're up early, Anomen; are you going with them?'

'We could ask the same of you,' smiled Cernd and Jaheira frowned, suddenly wary of what the girl was up to now.

'You surely cannot be going to the theatre; I doubt Higgold will even be awake.'

But Fritha merely laughed off her suspicions. 'No, no, I need to take something over to the temple of Tyr.'

'I am going to attend matins, my lady,' said Anomen promptly, 'I will accompany you if you wish.'

'All right,' she agreed, the sound of the temple bells across the city suddenly cutting her off. 'Oh Hells; I'm already late. You two be careful,' she continued to them, 'you know how Mekrath can be; if you're not back here at noon, I'll come looking for you.' She turned instantly to Anomen. 'Right, shall we set off?'

'Fritha, you cannot go out without any breakfast,' Jaheira cut in quickly.

'Who says I am?'

Fritha grinned, brandishing a neatly buttered roll at her and skipping through the door just as Jaheira glanced down to find her own plate empty.

'That _girl_!'

Cernd just laughed.

xxx

It was cold outside, the pale yellow that was creeping up from the eastern horizon not enough to lift the night's chill from the air, the cloudless sky an arc of grey above them and Anomen could tell it would be a fine day once the sun was up. He and Fritha set off along the street in companionable silence and he watched the lamp-lighters as they passed them, the men working in pairs on either side of the street putting out the streetlamps in anticipation of the dawn. It would have been easier if the lamps had been magical rather than mere oil lamps, cities smaller than Athkatla employing magic thusly, though such would be impossible there, the Cowled Wizards breeding such fear of the thing only to strengthen their own position. They were a power unto themselves and the root of more than a few troubles in that city.

Cold though it was, the air was bracing too, a soothing balm for his hot tired eyes and Anomen found himself rousing as they walked, though Fritha was plainly not feeling the affects yet, the girl yawning into her sleeve and nearly dropping her books in the process.

'Here, my lady, let me carry those for you.'

'All right -but just for a moment,' Fritha added sternly, letting him take them from her while she tore the roll she had stolen from Jaheira's plate in two. 'There, swap,' she said with a smile, offering him a half, the man reluctantly relinquishing the books back to her in the trade, and they continued on their path, eating the warm fragrant bread as they walked in silence until Anomen's curiosity finally got the better of him.

'So, what is it you need to deliver to the temple, my lady? I could have taken it there for you had I known.'

But Fritha just smiled. 'Oh, no, Anomen, it is a chore I take pleasure in –well, as much as you can this early in the morning,' she laughed. 'When I was speaking to Dawnmaster Kreel yesterday, he mentioned he had heard from Minsc that one of our company had joined the Illmateran orphanage just north of Trademeet. He told me that a company of priests and temple guards from the churches of Illmater and Tyr are heading up there with supplies before the winter sets in, a few staying there over the colder months as to better protect them. They plan to set out this morning, so I spoke to Father Philyon at the temple of Illmater yesterday who is heading the mission and he agreed to take something for Nalia with him.'

So _that_ was where she had disappeared off to the afternoon before.

'Oh, that is most kind of him to agree,' said Anomen after a moment, feeling strange talking about the girl after so long, though Fritha did not seem to notice in her sudden eagerness.

'Wasn't it? I've written her a letter telling her what we've been up to and I'm sending her some hazelnuts, for she always liked those, and half of that cake of soap you bought for me, and some more embroidery silks, for I don't know how often she will be able to get to Trademeet nowadays, or even if she's an allowance for such things any more. Oh and this.' She drew a small blue bound volume from her bag with some difficultly, smiling gently as her eyes travelled the cover before she passed it to him. 'It was the one we were reading together when she first left. I've only just been able to bring myself to start reading it again. I finally finished it last night… now it's her turn.'

Anomen took it from her with little else to do bar open it and there on the flyleaf in a simple scrolling hand,

"_Though many leagues may part us, take heart; the same moon still hangs above us both."_

He recognised the line as being from _Tasitus and Penelope_, that ancient drama of the exiled solider and his constant love and Anomen swallowed, feeling uncomfortable as he handed it back to her, the girl pushing it carefully back into her bag, continuing brightly.

'The ending was quite good, if rather predictable. The assassin, Niryth, died, of course.' She paused, looking for a moment disappointed. 'All the people I like seem to die.'

'Characters, my lady, surely you mean characters.'

She glanced to him, seemingly bemused. 'Yes, of course, that was what I said, wasn't it?'

Anomen frowned, but said no more, pointing instead to the small stack of books under her arm that she had so insisted upon carrying.

'And what of those ones, my lady? Are you intending to send those to Nalia as well?

'These? No, she has already read these ones.'

'What do you intend for them then?'

Fritha shrugged indifferently. 'Oh, I'll probably just donate them to the temple of Oghma.'

He took the top one from the pile in her arms, reading the cover with raised eyebrows

'A Knight in Shining _Amour_?'

Fritha laughed. 'Knowledge is knowledge.'

Anomen sighed, placing it back on the pile. 'How can you read that rubbish?'

'Well, some of them, like this one I'm sending to Nalia, are quite good. The others, well, they're good for a laugh at least, and if they're that bad I just skip pages.' She laughed and Anomen smiled, drawing them back to their conversation from earlier.

'You have been reading much lately by the sound of things, though I am surprised you could read anything last night, my lady. I must admit to being exhausted and you had had no rest the night before either.'

Fritha shrugged.

'No, I suppose not. But I have been finding it harder to sleep of late; the silence of my bed leaves too much room to think.'

'You have been thinking on tonight's meeting,' he confirmed and she nodded, unusually open for once as she answered.

'Yes, I was. My heart and mind are at odds once more and everyone else is so ready with their own opinions -which is only right, of course,' she added quickly, glancing to him with a suddenly thoughtful look, 'Though, I fear I am generalising; _you _have hardly said a word about our impending meeting. I must admit, I am surprised.'

'Surprised?'

'Why, yes, I was sure you would have shouted yourself hoarse at me by now, in fact…' She trailed off, her eyes gaining a distant look as she considered it, 'You did not raise your voice yesterday either.' She turned back to him. 'Your temper has been much better lately, Anomen.'

'Well, yes,' he admitted gruffly, feeling for some reason embarrassed she had noticed, 'Cernd showed me a method of restraining it. I recall to mind a moment when my temper controlled me, disgraced me; a moment I should wish never to be repeated.'

He glanced to Fritha, the girl looking a touch uncomfortable by his confession.

'Oh well, that's good, that you can control it now. But-' she frowned slightly, pressing her lips together as though unsure of whether to continue or not, 'but don't dwell too much on past mistakes, Anomen; it would not do to quench your passions in shame. After all, there's nothing wrong with having a temper, just so long as you're not losing it all the time.' She laughed, hefting the books in her arms as she glanced back to their path, the pair having reached the edge of the temple district by now, the huge church to Helm but a few paces away.

'Well, here we are, oh, and the bell for matins -say a prayer for me, won't you?'

He swallowed dryly. 'Always.'

Fritha stared up at him, the glimmer of another frown just lingering behind her eyes, when she smiled and it was gone.

'I'll see you back at the inn, Anomen.'

Fritha continued along the path, still feeling his eyes on her back and not wanting to turn around to confirm it. A heavy sense of guilt was pressing on her as she considered Anomen's last few days and the meeting that had been hanging over them all. The others had made it so much easier with their opposition; the girl using their sullen looks and heavy silences to spur her on her path. But Anomen had said nothing, just sadly borne the weight of his decision alone.

Fritha sighed. As a knight and a priest, he had more than likely made up his mind as soon as that first meeting, perhaps even that first night when they and his friends had met with Parisa. If Fritha allied with the vampires then he would have no choice but to leave and that was that. But, as harsh as that was, he had clearly also considered that there was no point in harping on about it or trying to use his decision to influence her own choice and she appreciated that, at least. Fritha shook these thoughts away; it would all be over soon enough now.

The temple to Tyr was just ahead of her, and she paused, setting the pile of books she was carrying on a nearby wall and fussing in her bag, putting the letter and book and the other treats she had bought for her friend into a small linen bag she had bought for the task and binding up the whole thing with string before continuing on her way. People were already gathering outside the temple, some on horseback, while others stood about talking or readying their own steeds, two men slowly backing a draft-horse between the shafts of a large covered wagon. Fritha had always been a bit nervous of horses and she approached cautiously, easily spotting a tall helmed figure on the edge of the group who seemed familiar, the priest already astride a stout dappled mare and watching the surrounding commotion with a commanding look.

'Ah, Father Philyon?' Fritha ventured and she realised too late her mistake, the man turning to reveal someone much younger than she had been expecting, his tanned face dominated by a rather strong nose, though he was not unhandsome for it, the scales of Tyr etched upon his ornate breastplate.

'Oh, no, my lady, he would be there,' the man offered, turning in his saddle to point behind him and Fritha peered past his horse to where the older priest she recognised was knelt before the temple and comforting a crying child who was no doubt on his way to a new home.

'Oh, ah, I see.'

The Tyran seemed to understand her reluctance to interrupt, the man smiling down at her kindly. 'Is there anyway _I _can be of assistance, my lady?'

'Well, my friend, Nalia is a lay sister at the orphanage, I was hoping to have something delivered to her with your company. Father Philyon said he did not mind…'

The priest smiled, reaching down for the package and she passed it up to him

'It would be an honour to be so entrusted; I will ensure she gets it, my lady.'

'And who might I thank for this service?'

His smile broadened. 'My name is Lundav, my lady; Lundav di Sifiso'

Fritha nodded once.

'I will remember you in my prayers, sir.'

xxx

It was noon, the sunlight that poured through the grimy windows making even the common room of the Coronet pleasant and welcoming as the group took tea and made plans for what was left of the day. Jaheira and Cernd had just arrived back from their delivery to Mekrath, the table they arrived to already full of noise and laughter, Fritha having roused Minsc, Haer'Dalis and Aerie when she'd arrived back from her errands and Anomen was the only one of their party still absent, his prayers clearly taking longer than anyone had anticipated.

'So, was Mekrath pleased with his book?' asked Fritha and Jaheira nodded, swallowing a mouthful of tea to answer.

'Pleased enough to pay us for the task; here, five hundred gold. Add that to the payment we received from the Lathandites, and this jaunt was almost worth the trouble it caused. And you were correct, Fritha, the book _was_ a diary; that of Mekrath's great-great-great uncle or some such nonsense. Mekrath felt such secrets should be kept within the family, namely by him.'

'Didn't he enquire about Korgan and the others?' asked Aerie. Jaheira smiled, raising an eyebrow at the druid next to her.

'That he did, but Cernd here managed to convince him that they were no more than _his_ servants. You should have heard the pair of them by the end of the meeting: both bemoaning how hard it is to get decent staff like friends of old and Mekrath was inviting him back to take tea with him before the month's end!'

'Well, you're getting quite good at this acting malarkey, aren't you?' Fritha laughed delightedly, 'We'll have to see about getting you a part at the theatre.'

Cernd smiled. 'I thank you for the offer, but I fear I will have to decline; I must serve a greater mistress than your fickle Muse.'

'Now, that is no way to talk of Higgold,' quipped Haer'Dalis, Cernd turning to Fritha to ask, 'So what _are_ our plans for the rest of our day?'

Fritha shrugged, topping up her cup as she considered it.

'Well, this Valygar is still resisting being found and Higgold seems to have everything under control at the theatre for once, so I was thinking that perhaps we could spend the rest of the day in the park.'

'The park?' came Aerie and she was not the only one who looked confused though at least one of their group seemed quite taken with the suggestion.

'Oh, yes, Fritha,' boomed Minsc happily, 'it has been too long since Boo has been able to play in the grass.'

'The park?' came Jaheira in an echo of the elf and Fritha nodded.

'Yes, I hear there is a nice one over the river in the north-west of the city; we can even buy some bread and such from the Bridge vendors on the way and eat there. The weather is certainly fine enough and you never know just_ who_ you are going to run into.'

Jaheira leaned slowly back in her seat to send a glance to the druid next to her, Cernd looking as though he was suddenly wrestling with some strong emotion, though the tiefling did not seem to notice this exchange, laughing as he exclaimed, 'Really, my raven, if you are hoping this Valygar berk is just going to be there enjoying the sunshine, then you truly _are_ at a loss.'

'I think this park sounds like a very good idea,' cut in Jaheira firmly, 'Cernd?'

The man nodded once and gravely. 'Yes, I agree.'

Haer'Dalis glanced between them with a frown and perhaps he would have questioned them had not the door banged open at that moment and Anomen, at last, arrived, the tiefling turning his attention immediately to him.

'You were a while at the temple, my hound -did you have a lot to confess?' he added slyly and Aerie giggled. Anomen ignored him, taking his seat and nodding his thanks to the elf as she poured him some tea.

'I was speaking with High Watcher Oisig. Amongst other things, he informed me that the famed Waterhavian artist, Sir Sarles, is in the city at present. He is currently a guest of the Jysstevs, a noble family who hold grounds opposite,' he swallowed, his discomfort evident, 'the Delryn estate.'

'Sir Sarles?' came Aerie, looking awe-struck, 'Goodness, he is a legend. He painted the choir screen in the church to Waukeen in Keczulla.'

Fritha nodded looking equally impressed. 'Yes, his frescos boarder the entire banqueting hall of the Ducal Palace up in the Gate. What is he doing here?'

'Not a lot, apparently,' muttered Anomen dully. 'He has been in Athkatla for a tenday or more now and plans to winter here. Ever since the news was made known, he has been assailed with commissions from nobles and temples alike, including the church of Helm, though so far he has refused them all.'

The knight paused to take a sip of tea, turning slightly to Fritha. 'The High Watcher drew me aside after my prayers, he- he is aware of your position as patron of the theatre, my lady, and though no request was made outright, Oisig was hinting that perhaps if a fellow artist was to put forward their case… I know it will not pay anything,' Anomen added quickly, 'and I do not think even the High Watcher expects anything to come of it, but…'

Fritha smiled kindly. 'Well, it can't hurt to ask, can it?' She stood and, for a moment, Anomen expected her to beckon for him to do the same, when she turned instead to the tiefling, 'Come on, Haer'Dalis, they tell me you can be charming when you want to be.'

'I try, my raven, I try.'

And Anomen watched the pair leave, laughing as they teased each other. At his side, Aerie drew in a deep measured breath.

'Right, are we going to the park then?'

xxx

Fritha gazed up at the pale blue sky, billowing clouds rushing overhead with a speed that looked almost unnatural, the sun bright even if there was still a coolness to the air as she and Haer'Dalis made their way through the wide tree-lined streets of the north of the city. With everything she knew would that come later, Fritha was rather glad this distraction had presented itself and she let her mind wander, imagining their imminent meeting with the famous artist, the man wise and insightful as they discussed his latest works over tea and she sincerely hoped she could convince Sarles to take the commission for the Helmites and repay Anomen some of the consideration he had shown her of late, however oddly it had been borne.

Fritha smiled slightly, gesturing at the street to their left as she led them in the direction of Anomen's old estate, Haer'Dalis asking as they turned to cross the large square, 'So who is this Sarles berk, anyway?'

'You've never heard of him? Oh, no, I don't suppose you would have, would you?' she exclaimed, laughing at her own thoughtlessness and explaining, 'Well, he's quite famous, especially for his frescos, though I believe he favours sculpture as his medium at the moment; he gained more popularity after the death of Prism.'

'Prism?'

Fritha nodded earnestly. 'Yes, now he really _was_ famous. He painted the ceiling at the temple to Lathander in Beregost and he has made several famous sculptures, the last one of Ellesime, one of the Elven Queens, who was said to favour his works. I suppose you could say it was that one that ended him really.'

'Ended him?' Haer'Dalis repeated, frowning, 'The piece was not well received?'

'Oh no, but he did not survive long after it was finished.'

'He is dead? How is that ill-fated occurrence linked to this statue?'

Fritha paused a moment, wondering how to explain it.

'Well, he… he stole some rather precious emeralds to use for the eyes of his piece and then went gallivanting off into the foothills of the Cloudpeak Mountains to carve his work onto an actual cliff face. To be honest, I think he'd gone a bit peculiar, perhaps something to do with all the lead in the paint.'

She glanced up to find Haer'Dalis watching her, still frowning as he asked, 'You seem to know much of this; are you a fan of his?

'Not exactly; it's just, well, we were there. We were in the mountains hunting winter wolves so we could raise much needed funds from their pelts. In the meantime, the bounty hunter Greywolf had been dispatched to retrieve the stolen emeralds and kill the thief and we all sort of ran into each other. We tried to stop Greywolf, but a fight broke out and Greywolf was killed along with Prism. We buried him under his final work, the poor man.' Fritha sighed, a shadow falling over them as clouds raced across the sun. 'It was all quite sad really. Very needless. Ah, we're here.'

They had passed the gate to the Delryn estate a few paces back, the girl halting at the next, the large ornate gateway set on the opposite side of the street, the guards letting them pass after a few questions and they were soon walking along the wide gravel path that ran along the edge of the house. Fritha let her eyes run over the neat grey building, a rarity among the houses of that district in that it was not surrounded by sprawling gardens, though from the size of the property, Fritha guess it likely incorporated a few within its structure. She presented herself to the servant who opened the door as patron of the Bridge District Theatre, the girl clearly not the first visitor the artist had received and the servant led them along a few corridors into the heart without another question, bidding them wait at a curtained doorway as he went ahead to announce them.

'Oh, not _more _fans come begging for an audience,' someone sighed quite audibly beyond the weight of dark green brocade, as though another would be the death of him. Haer'Dalis shot her a dark look in the gloom of the hallway and Fritha had a sudden suspicion that her plans of tea and talk might have been a touch premature. The voice of the servant, quiet and conciliatory.

'No, my lord, they are actually here from the theatre in Bridge District; it is their Lady Patron.'

Another dramatic sigh. 'Oh, very well, send them in.'

The servant appeared before them again and the pair were shown past the curtain into a small well-furnished room of marble and dark wood that overlooked a neat garth of azalea bushes and Kara-Turan maples, the air rich with the smell of earth and foliage. Sarles was at the room's centre reclining on a long upholstered bench, the man quite short and of a ruddy complexion, with much less hair and quite a bit more stomach than Fritha had imagined. She dipped a slight bow, Haer'Dalis joining her in the gesture, but only barely.

'Good morning, my lord. I am Fritha of the Bridge District Theatre and this is my companion, Haer'Dalis, most recently of the Sigil Troupe.'

'Yes, yes, good morning,' Sarles sighed impatiently, waving away their greeting and sitting so as to see them better, 'Goodness, you are not quite as I was expecting; you look more like the head of a barracks than a theatre.'

'My sword?' Fritha confirmed, glancing to Haer'Dalis with the slightest of smiles, 'The sages say it is better to be safe than sorry. My lord, I am here to personally invite you to the opening night of our latest production, the Sorcerer's Bane; shall I have some tickets sent to your lodgings?'

Sarles sighed and nodded, laying back down and helping himself to a grape from the large bowl of fruit on the table next to him.

'Hmm, yes, do -though I will have to check my diary and see if I am still available nearer the time.'

Fritha dipped her head in acquiescence. 'Of course, I understand. Who knows what masterpiece you will be working on by then.'

'Hmph, _nothing_ I would hope,' the artist muttered sourly, 'I am here on _holiday_ as everyone seems all too willing to ignore.'

'Well, yes,' Fritha agreed, all hopes of convincing him to take the Helmites' commission quickly fading from sight, 'but who can say when inspiration will strike? Surely, if someone was to offer you the opportunity to work for a patron of such power and influence-'

'Oh, I _knew_ it,' Sarles interrupted with a theatrical sigh, 'you are another emissary from one of those _blasted_ temples, aren't you?'

Fritha frowned slightly, but could not refute it. 'Why would you assume-'

'Because the nobles that come begging at least have the sense to bring gifts!'

Fritha would have very much liked to have reminded him that she _had_ in fact brought a gift, but Haer'Dalis looked as though he would have liked to say that and possibly a lot more, and Fritha continued hastily. 'My lord, I am sent by the church of-'

'Oh, don't bother telling me which one, I hardly care,' Sarles cut in with a snort, smiling slightly as though amused he could get away with such rudeness. Fritha mouthed a moment, rather taken aback, though Haer'Dalis was not so afflicted

'You will not even _hear_ the offer?' he demanded, Sarles clearly missing the tiefling's tone as he laughed airily.

'What on Toril can they expect to offer to induce me to such a task? I have enough coin accumulated now for several lifetimes and am famed and celebrated as an artist the land over.'

Fritha had thought, and perhaps naively, that the mere opportunity to create something, especially something that would be placed on such prominent display, would be enough; most other artists seemed to view the fame and riches as just a pleasant side-effect of their work. Sarles sighed again and deeply, sending her an indulgent look.

'_Well_, since I cannot seem to escape you and your brethren, I will take your commission-'

Fritha felt her heart swell. 'Oh, thank-!'

'_If'_ he cut in firmly, 'you can provide the requirement of my medium.' He paused for effect. 'Two hundred pounds of pure illithium.'

Fritha blinked a moment, wondering if she'd heard correctly. 'Sor- Sorry?'

Illithium was one of the rarest metals she knew of, to get even a quarter of what he had asked for would have been a feat. He was just toying with them…

Sarles smiled at her, shaking his head as he helped himself to another grape and Fritha felt her jaw clench, hot bile beginning to rise in her stomach. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on the sound of her heartbeat as Sarles's condescending tones rang through her head.

'You people really do not understand, do you? I am an _artist_. The medium I choose is a reflection of my _soul_. Why should I just employ simple wood or stone as all the others? I am sure if your patron is as great and influential as you say, it will not be a problem…'

xxx

Anomen lent back against the tree with a sigh, letting his attention drift from the twisting boughs overhead to the brightly coloured crowds about him. Many people had clearly decided to follow their example, tempted by the fine day amid the cold and rains to come, and the park was quite busy. He had felt more peaceful since his prayers that morning, his worship reaffirming his life as a servant of Helm and he knew that whatever the Order thought of his actions from here on out, as long as he could still stand without shame before his god then he would be able to bear whatever else the Fates had in store.

Jaheira and Cernd seemed less relaxed though, the pair keeping a watchful eye on the crowds about them. He had gathered from what he had over heard of their conversations since leaving the slums, that Cernd's son had been adopted by a household not far from there, Fritha's suggestion they spend the afternoon in the park suddenly making much more sense. She put more thought into their well-being than Anomen had before realised and it warmed him.

Minsc and Aerie were sat opposite him and entertaining themselves, the ranger showing her how to tie various knots using their rope and a stick he'd found, occasionally passing it over to her to try with varying degrees of success. He watched them for a moment, the elf finally glancing up to catch his eye and send him a smile, Aerie murmuring something to Minsc as she rose and moved to settle next to him.

'It is nice here, isn't it?' she sighed, leaning back against the trunk as he had. 'Different from the forests and such outside the city, but still… You spoke to Fritha this morning, didn't you?' she confirmed with a glance to him, her eyes suddenly darkened, 'Does she still plan to make the deadline the vampires have placed upon us?'

'I believe so, my lady. Have you come to a decision as to what you will do should we ally with them?'

Aerie shook her head. 'No… Are you still worried?'

Anomen drew a deep breath and shook his head as well. 'No. I have made my decision and my prayers this morning have set it in my heart; my duty is to Fritha and I am ready now for whatever the Fates will bring.'

Aerie sighed, a hand moving to her throat to play absently with the gold racoon-faced pendent that hung above her robes.

'I wish I had your resolve.'

Anomen smiled wryly, remembering the simple adage of a young woman and the frustrations he had once felt with both it and her.

'A wise person once told me we must all follow our hearts; the decisions we come to may be right or wrong, but at least you will always be true to yourself.'

'Ah, you are returned,' called Jaheira and he glanced up to see Fritha and Haer'Dalis approaching, the pair smiling though he thought Fritha's held a melancholy air and Anomen realised they may not have met with success. 'So, how went your meeting?' continued the druid, though Fritha let her gaze fall instead to him.

'It is arranged, Anomen. Sarles will consult with the temple about the materials he will need and his fees within the tenday.'

Anomen blinked, hardly able to believe it. 'He agreed to work for Helm? But he refused all others.'

Fritha merely shrugged, dropping to sit next to Jaheira though Haer'Dalis remained on his feet, the man beaming down at her like some doting father.

'Ah, our raven managed to convince that Sarles berk. Oh, that you could have seen her, my birds; she was magnificent! She called him a self-absorbed amateur for a start.'

'You called him _what_?' exclaimed Jaheira.

Fritha laughed weakly, looking rather embarrassed and pulling her knees up to her chest as though to unconsciously shield herself from their stares.

'Well, he really riled me, the silly Prima Dona; sat there stuffing his face and going on about art as though he was the only one with any sensibility of it.'

'Oh, that you could have been there with us, my birds,' Haer'Dalis continued gleefully, 'She was as mild as a partridge until Sarles mentioned the requirement of his medium: two hundred pounds of pure illithium.'

Anomen frowned. 'But that is an impossible task. I'll warrant there isn't that much in the whole of Athkatla.'

'Exactly, my hound, it seemed Sarles did not want his leave disturbing and it was then Fritha rose, the fires of Gehenna blazing in her eyes, and spoke in a tongue of raw anger-'

Fritha was still giggling, but she had even sunk lower where she sat and hidden her face in her folded arms, her forehead a stunning shade of pink as the bard continued.

'Who are _you_ to send me on such an errand! I who shed my life's blood to allow the great Prism to finish his final work, who watched as the light left his eyes, who buried him with my own hands! To call you an artist is an insult to any man or woman will a spark of creation in their souls. You decadent slattern! Art is nothing to you but silks and sweetmeats! You whore you talent to the highest patron, not caring what they ask for! But Prism understood art and so do I. It is weeks without rest, all thoughts upon your work. It is passion and isolation and obsession. It is _suffering_! The temple of Helm would be _ashamed_ to house your soulless efforts!'

Jaheira turned to the girl, clearly astonished. 'By Silvanus, you said all _that_?'

'Haer'Dalis's version is rather more lyrical, but pretty much.'

'Is that when he changed his mind?' asked Aerie, Haer'Dalis sending her a grim smile.

'We do not know. Sarles was in quite a temper when we left, but then, so was Fritha…'

'We went to the docks to watch the boats for an hour or so,' said Fritha quietly, 'give me chance to calm down before we returned to tell the temple that Sarles wouldn't be working for them, now or perhaps ever.'

Haer'Dalis nodded, still grinning. 'But when we arrived, we were greeted with great enthusiasm. Apparently, a letter had arrived from Sarles during our absence agreeing to accept the commission -and all due to our wonderful raven here!' He laughed, clasping her shoulders. Fritha shrugged him off, her smile rueful.

'We were lucky; it could have so easily gone the other way. I should have kept my temper.'

Haer'Dalis merely shrugged, turning his attentions to the linen bag next to Minsc. 'Well, all's well that ends well. What did you bring from the market?'

Aerie moved to help him and together they laid down a blanket at the foot of some nearby trees, somewhere more sheltered from the cool breeze, before setting out the breads and fruits and meats they had brought for their lunch, Minsc collecting their cups ready to share out the carafe of ale they had snuck from the Coronet.

Anomen glanced back to the two women opposite, Fritha murmuring something to Jaheira, the druid nodding and patting her knee as she rose to join Cernd at a copse of trees nearby, the druid watching a small group of children play with a melancholy look and Anomen took his chance.

Fritha smiled as he shifted into the place at her side, her voice quite and resigned. 'Go ahead with your rebuke, Anomen; for once, I will more than likely agree with you.'

The knight shook his head. 'I am not here to reproach, I just wished to thank you.'

'For getting Sarles to work for the temple?'

'For trying to; the result, either way, would not have changed the trouble you went to.' Anomen sighed, the glow of their success rather marred by the melancholy it had brought her. 'I am sorry he upset you, I can understand how his demands would have irked.'

Fritha shook her head, an arm lolling from her knees to pluck absently at the grass next to her.

'It is no excuse; I could have ruined everything. I don't know what got me so angry. Just when he made to send us on that fool's errand for the illithium…' She sighed deeply, watching as the breeze took the torn grass from her parted fingers. 'I've spent all this time trying to raise coin for Imoen and yet we are barely halfway. And on top of that, there is this nonsense with the Cowled Wizards and their hidden fugitive. Finally, it seemed I was to be given a solid path to Imoen and it is hopeless! I knew he would not be easy to find, for if that were the case, the wizards would have just retrieved him themselves, but it has been days and we still know nothing!' Fritha fixed him with a fierce look, as though she needed to make him understand her desperation, before she turned away once more, the girl scrubbing a hand across her face. 'Ah, I'm sorry, I should not complain, it does nothing useful,' she glanced back to him, smiling faintly, 'and besides, it only makes me feel worse.'

'Fritha?' came a voice and the pair turned to see Aerie knelt by the blanket, the others already sat about it and looking over to them, 'Fritha, do you want an orange or an apple?'

'An apple, please,' she trilled, shifting closer to the blanket and beckoning for him to do the same, 'I like oranges, but I only make a mess when I peel them. What about you, Anomen?'

He made his choice: an orange, which he peeled very carefully and then offered to share with her, though Fritha would only take one segment, claiming with a laugh that it was not fair on him when he had done all the work, the girl seeming to cheer over the course of their picnic though Anomen was very aware now that such things were not always to be trusted.

And so the afternoon passed. It was much later in the day now and growing darker, the park about them emptying though there was still enough light to read by, Fritha and Jaheira so engaged, the others watching the lesson that was in progress. Haer'Dalis, the tranquillity of the afternoon clearly not sitting well with him, had offered to show Anomen a few techniques should he ever lose his mace and be force to fight with his newly acquired sword, Fritha lending the man her own blade to practise with. Though perhaps it had been foolish to have assumed too much altruism on Haer'Dalis's part, the tiefling using the opportunity to tease as well as teach, applying his size and skill to land flamboyant hits to the knight's flanks and back, seemingly unable to help showing off before a captive audience. Anomen was bearing all with good grace though and had even managed to a land a few good hits of his own in the last hour.

'Hold, hold, my hound, you must change your grip when you thrust; place your finger above the guard to steady it.'

'Like this?'

'More like this.'

They practised the move in unison a few times, the pair lunging earnestly some imaginary opponent.

'By Silvanus, they'll be taking their shirts off next,' muttered Jaheira. Aerie snorted into the sleeve she was darning.

'Ready?' came Haer'Dalis as the two men reassumed their positions opposite each other, 'On guard!'

The duel began with the ringing clash of metal on metal, the two sparring a moment before Haer'Dalis managed to feint a blow to the knight's legs and danced past his guard to strike him resoundingly on the opposite flank.

The group laughed, even Anomen managing a smile, albeit a weary one as he moved back to ready himself for the next bout, Haer'Dalis still busy enjoying the crowd's adulations as he bowed and waved. Fritha smiled as well, her attention still intent upon her book as she called out to him.

'Now, now, Haer'Dalis, don't make me come up there and thrash you.'

The bard turned to her, seemingly delighted with this interruption.

'Thrash me? Ha! You know for sure you will win, my raven?'

'Of course, I will: I intend to cheat.'

Haer'Dalis laughed warmly. 'Then it would be a victory well deserved. Come, my raven, we should have a duel; entertain the good citizens of Athkatla…' he glanced slyly to the man at his side, 'and perhaps a wager to make things interesting? I know, the loser must give the winner a kiss.'

Anomen flushed, Aerie suddenly looking a whole lot less amused as well but Fritha merely laughed and turned another page.

'If we're going to bet, at least make it something I'd want to win. Besides-'

She glanced up to deliver what would have no doubt been a verbal coup de grâce when something behind him caught her eye. An open carriage had stopped nearby on the western edge of the park, a man of late years stepping from it with an agility that belied his age, something familiar about the neat grey hair and stern lined face and Fritha realised it was the same man they had seen leaving the Deril estate a few days ago. He was reaching back into the carriage, taking a small dark-haired boy from his nurse as the woman herself descended, the child handed back to her as soon as her feet were on the cobbles, their voices drifting over to the them on the still air.

'Do not take him far,' the man directed, 'you know I've to be back at the house for the sundown.'

The nurse nodded respectfully. 'No, my lord, we won't be long will we, my poppet?' she cooed to her ward, jogging the child slightly in her arms before setting him gently down next to her, the boy clinging to her skirts as he found his feet.

Cernd was transfixed.

'Is that… is that _him?_'

The druid was almost to his feet when Jaheira grabbed his collar and wrenched him back down to the grass, Fritha already up and quickly unbuckling her empty scabbard.

'Come on, Aerie.'

The pair linked arms and were off, casually strolling through the park, just two friends taking a walk before dinner, the girls following the nearby path in opposite direction, through the small grove of trees they had settled in and around the ornamental pond to meet the woman all by chance on the far side of the park.

'Good afternoon, madam,' Fritha nodded politely, suddenly stopping as she noticed the young boy stood unsteadily at her side, 'Oh, what a dear child!'

'Is he not, my lady?' the nurse clucked, glowing with pride as she picked up her charge to settle him on her hip. 'Come now, my poppet, come and say hello to the nice young ladies.'

The boy gurgled at them and shyly turned to hide his face in the woman's neck. Fritha smiled, not having to put much acting into her delight as he watched them curiously from under an untidy mop of dark curls.

'Such a handsome boy,' came Aerie quietly, her ingenuous manner well disguising the cunning of her words, 'I'm sure he will grow into a fine man -he has your eyes, I think.'

'Ooo, aren't you a dear?' the nurse chuckled, 'He is not mine, my lady, I am but his nurse. His father is a gentleman -see he is stood there by the carriage,' she continued, turning to point behind her to the edge of the park where the man himself stood, frowning as he spoke to the driver. 'Such a kind master,' the woman sighed, turning back to them with a smile, 'and he thinks the world of this little one. Doesn't he, my pet?'

She jogged the boy in her arms again, the child giggling, reaching up to tug at the frill on her mobcap.

'And what have you two found?' came a mellow voice behind them, both girls turning to see Cernd stood there, the serenity of his face a mask that could not hide the intensity to his eyes. The nurse looked rather surprised, gaze raking over his worn clothes and beaded hair with a mildly scandalised look.

'Oh, is this, ah, gentleman, a friend of yours?'

'Yes, indeed, madam,' Fritha answered politely, turning to him to ask artlessly, 'Do we have to be going yet?'

Cernd sent her a fatherly smile and shook his head.

'No, no, I merely came to see what had so caught your attention.' His gaze shifted to the boy in her arms, the smile lingering as he continued, 'Ah, and now it is clear to me. Are you not both a little young to be getting broody -though I can see why it may be more tempting a prospect when one comes upon so well-behaved a child.' Cernd paused, watching the boy with a tender look, for a moment seeming as though he wanted nothing more than to take him in his arms, though he resisted, merely reaching out to gently brush the mess of curls back from his forehead. 'Might I inquire as to his name, madam?'

The nurse beamed. 'Why, of course, sir. He's named Ahsdale for his late mother's father and a better behaved babby a nurse could not have asked for. Why, hardly a year old and I do not hear a peep out of him once he is put to bed. I-'

A presence behind cut her off, the woman half turning as the frowning visage of Deril appeared at her shoulder, Ahsdale instantly beginning to fret, arms outstretched towards the man.

'Edith, what is the delay here?' he demanded impatiently, gaze shifting to them to finally notice Cernd, Deril's eyes not leaving him as he commanded sharply, 'Edith, take Ahsdale back to the carriage now. I shall return in a moment.'

The nurse frowned, sending them a bewildered look as she readjusted the struggling child in her arms and quickly bundled him away, Deril turning to Cernd with a cold look.

'You were Galia's husband, I recognise you from the promenade and that pottery you both ran before you saw fit to desert her.'

'I did not-!' Cernd exclaimed, but the man cut dead his indignation.

'I do not care to hear your excuses, why are you here bothering my servants?'

Cernd frowned, calm once more though there was a definite edge to his tone. 'That child, he is my son.'

'No, he is _my_ son,' Deril corrected firmly, 'as per the laws of this city. You forfeited your rights to him when you left his mother.'

Cernd's breathing had quickened, his desperation mounting.

'I did not know she was with child! Please, if we could arrange something -I can return to the pottery here, I could meet with him-'

Deril halted his pleas with a determined shake of his head. 'No, I do not think that will be possible.'

'He is of my blood!' cried Cernd, but the man remained unmoved, merely gazing back at him with a cool impassible eyes.

'Yes, but he is of _my_ House. The law of this city saw to place him in my care after the death of his mother and that is the end of it. It would be too confusing for him to grow up knowing two men as father. No, my decision in this is made,' Deril affirmed with a curt nod, 'I would ask that you do not try to meet either of us again. Good day.'

And with that, he turned on his heel and walked swiftly back to his carriage, Cernd stood unmoving and silent as he stared after him. Fritha glanced to Aerie, seeing her own awkward uncertainty in the elf's face, neither of them sure what to do though the decision was not left to them in the end, Cernd turning of his own accord and together the three trudged back to the others, Jaheira and Cernd disappearing soon after and Fritha was not long with them either. She had an appointment over at the Council Building to see Tolgerias and report on their progress in the search for Valygar, or lack there of, the girl returning an hour later more than a little disheartened. Apparently, Tolgaris's promises of Imoen's return were becoming more fervent, and it was as the sun was finally setting that Jaheira and Cernd returned as well, both druids pale and taciturn, Cernd's worn face grey with misery.

Anomen sighed inwardly; such a day of successes and disappointments and yet the worst was still to face. He glanced to Fritha, the girl sat on her cloak, hunched over as she played with her boot laces and looking cold and shivery now the dusk was drawing in, though whether from the coolness to the air or something else he could not tell.

'Well,' she sighed eventually, her voice sounding loud in the silence they had been sat in, her gaze upon the sky as she heaved herself up from the grass, 'it's almost time and I shouldn't keep Bodhi waiting. I'll see you lot- Anomen?' she questioned as he stood as well.

'I would not have you attend at all, but if you are going, then you will not go alone.'

Fritha blinked, clearly stunned, but it could not hide the faint smile that was twitching at her lips. 'Oh, right. Well, I suppose we'll-'

'Ah, not so fast, my raven,' sang Haer'Dalis, springing up on her other side, 'you cannot be rid of this sparrow so easily.'

Fritha openly laughed that time. 'Did I ever doubt it?'

Jaheira shook her head, heaving herself to her feet as well, Cernd and Minsc not a moment behind her.

'Well, I can only hope you understand what you are doing.'

'Boo is sure she is; young Fritha has never led us wrong before.'

Fritha was smiling, warm and yet rueful, as she let her gaze travel those stood about her, the group complete bar one. Aerie sighed audibly from the grass beneath them and finally stood.

'Just because I'm coming doesn't mean I agree with this.'

Fritha nodded once. 'Duly noted. Well,' she continued, fastening her cloak about her shoulders and still looking rather amazed, 'I just hope they've got enough chairs.'


	62. Truth will out

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

-Blackcross & Taylor

**Truth will out**

Anomen could feel his heart beating heavily in his chest, as though it wanted to prove to him he did not belong there, in that city of the dead, the group of them stood once more just inside the yawning stone gates of the cemetery. The sky overhead was already a pale hazy grey and though he could not see it, Anomen suspected they were waiting until the last sliver of sun had sunk beneath the Sea of Swords. And then it began, an unnatural chill creeping into to the air about them and one that had nothing to do with the dusk, the shadows in the doorway of a nearby mausoleum seeming to deepen, finally coalescing into a familiar form.

'Good evening, Parisa,' Fritha greeted, the pale woman smiling as she stepped from doorway, deep wine red skirts rustling richly.

'Good evening, Fritha, you have come to a decision?'

'Indeed, and I would come with you to see Bodhi if I may.'

Parisa smiled generously. 'You are most welcome. Come, this way.'

The group set off once more, Parisa leading them through the dark narrow avenues as she chatted blithely with the girl at her side, Fritha's manner easy as they spoke, as though they were old friends reacquainted after a long separation.

'Well, it is good to meet with you again, Fritha; when last we spoke I wondered if you would even make a return here, so reticent seemed your companions,' the vampire made a show of dropping her voice, though she was still quite audible, 'but I will admit, they look little better now.'

Fritha nodded, her voice suddenly heavy as she sighed, 'No, and I wonder how many will even be travelling with me in future. Still, life is full of changes; I have made _my_ decision in this freely and that is how I will walk into it. So,' the girl continued, plainly casting about for a change of subject, 'do you make a home in some of the mausoleums here?'

Parisa gave a genial laugh. 'Oh no, it would not be safe enough for those of our kind to be so close to the surface. We have a hold in an older area of the crypts beneath.'

'Truly? We have been down there for days now searching for some lost priests amongst other things. Goodness, perhaps we even came close to meeting!'

Parisa shook her head, seemingly amused by her naivety.

'Oh, I doubt it, the way is well warded with illusions and traps, and even if some persistent soul managed to somehow get through, the doors to our vault are heavier than any mortal could move; we Children of Blood enjoy more than just immortality.'

Fritha laughed, looking rather in awed. 'Gods, _immortality_ -my bard-mistress used to say the only way for mortals to live on after they died was to write -a song or play or book, it mattered not -that your name might live on in the minds of men for all eternity.'

The vampire sent her an indulgent smile. 'Well, she was not wrong; fame, or _infamy_, lends a certain perpetuity -though how much more preferable to exist in blood and bone too! There are still some parts of Faerûn where my name is whispered with a fear that will last a thousand years!' Parisa laughed, a cold delight twisting her face, Fritha joining her, as though they had just shared some wonderful joke.

'Is that how you recruited your thieves: promised them forever? I am not surprised they deserted!'

'No, no, Fritha,' Parisa corrected, grave now, though she did not seem angered by the girl's mistake, 'it is a gift we do not give out lightly. _They _were mostly tempted with the same few mortal desires that have festered within men's hearts for centuries: gold, power, a chance to see men they once envied toppled from their lofty perches. I swear, the inns of the docks and slums are crawling with those turncoat vermin, just waiting to be offered something better -though it takes a certain _stomach_ to go and round them up. Amongst others, _I_ was chosen for the task as I hide my contempt better than most,' the vampire added with a hint of pride.

'Gold, power; how cheaply people are bought.' Fritha sighed sadly, 'I would just be happy to see Imoen again.'

'Ah yes, your stolen companion. Serve my mistress and I suspect your friend's return will be the least of the rewards you will glean.'

Fritha nodded, still something of the melancholy about her.

'I know she is being held by the Cowled Wizards somewhere; is it far away, do you think? I know I am promised transport to her under the terms of the deal, but it I have yet to raise the five thousand needed and I am very conscious of the time that has already passed.'

Parisa frowned, ignoring her question as she shook her head, clearly trying to fathom out something well beyond her comprehension.

'You go to so much effort to secure one who is not even strong enough to aid herself; within _my _people, those not able to protect themselves are seen as a weakness to the rest of clan, and we _let_ them perish. Now you, Fritha…' the vampire continued, a hungry admiration lighting her face, 'I do not know of what my mistress plans for you, but if you are to be embraced then I will happily be your sire; I will admit, I see much of my former self in you and you would make a worthy addition to any clan.'

Parisa smiled, eyes still fixed on the girl as she held up a hand, bringing them to an abrupt halt before a large marble vault, the columns either side of the doors entwined with carvings of morning glory, sinuous vines creeping up each, weighted here and there with the deep trumpet-shaped blossoms, the pale stone flowers forever in bloom.

'Ah, and we are arrived. Please wait here, I shall inform the mistress of your coming.'

The vampire turned to disappear into the mausoleum, the heavy stone doors moving at her slightest touch, leaving Fritha stood alone before it. Anomen took a step forward, closing the gap between them, his previous feelings of peace just a distant memory as the shadows of that place loomed over them.

'There is still time, Fritha.'

She glanced to him. 'Time?'

'Yes, to turn back, to change your mind.'

She smiled gently, shaking her head. 'No, there is no more time. Do not worry, Anomen, I know this path is not for you, I will make sure you are kept free of its taint.'

He felt an angry desperation surge through him, unable to stop himself from grabbing her shoulder roughly.

'That is _not_ what I am worried about!'

Fritha wrenched free of his grasp with an annoyed look just as the rumble of shifting stone from the vault heralded her arrival and they both turned to meet the smiling face Bodhi, an entourage of vampires at her back.

'A problem?' she inquired politely. Fritha sent Anomen one last glare and shook her head.

'No, no problem, my lady.'

Bodhi nodded, the hint of a smile curling the edge of her mouth at this immediate deference.

'So you have reached your decision?'

Fritha nodded, a tense silence buzzing about them, those that still breathed not daring to, and Anomen closed his eyes, waiting for this pronouncement of his ruin.

'Yes, Bodhi, my answer is no.'

Anomen's eyes snapped open, taking a moment of adjust again to the gloom, though even for that he could not miss the way Parisa had suddenly paled, hollow black eyes now fixed upon Fritha. Bodhi, though was not looking at the vampire to notice, focused on the girl before her she was, her jaw tense behind the coolly drawled words.

'I see, that is… a pity.'

'I'm sorry, Bodhi, but my loyalty was and must remain with the Shadow Thieves.'

'Your loyalty is misplaced. The thieves have used you from the very start. Why even now you raise coin for them.' Bodhi feigned a look of repentant surprise, 'Oh, did you not know that?'

Fritha shook her head evenly.

'No, but it doesn't matter. We were always were raising the money for someone and as the sages say,' she smiled faintly, 'better the devil you know.'

Bodhi sent her a cold look. 'Very well, you may yet serve my purpose, though you will not realise it until it is too late. Go, aid your wretched thieves; may it be your downfall.'

Bodhi turned to sweep back into the mausoleum behind her, the vampires following though one seemed more reluctant than the others, Parisa lingering, her gaze still fixed upon Fritha and filled with loathing, the woman looking like she wanted nothing more than to lash out and snatch her about the throat, before she at last swept after her mistress and they too turned to depart, the group making a brisk pace through cemetery, no one speaking until they were safely outside its walls once more, Aerie whirling on Fritha as soon as they had cleared the gate.

'You, you had no intention-'

Fritha gave a hollow laugh. 'Ah, the faith you lot have in me.'

'So you never…' came Jaheira, looking just as stunned.

'Oh, don't get me wrong, I _was_ tempted.' Fritha turned a wan smile upon her, 'I may not be a saint, but even _I_ draw the line at working with ones as so obviously evil as they.'

'Ah, Minsc and Boo knew it would be so!' boomed the ranger, the only one among them who looked in any way pleased, the man giving her shoulder a hearty slap. 'Never would young Fritha agree to ally us with such creatures!'

'The way you chatted on so merrily… you merely wanted information, did you not, my raven?' confirmed Haer'Dalis, looking somewhat astounded himself.

'Got it in one, sparrow,' Fritha chirruped with the same tired smile, 'Parisa always seemed an affable sort -well, for one of her kind; I was rather hoping she would let some clue of Imoen's whereabouts slip, but she would not be led and I will have to suffice with just some hints of where they keep their stronghold and how they recruit the thieves -still at least Renal will be pleased.'

'Well, then _why_ didn't you say as much before?' the druid demanded. Fritha shrugged.

'I needed your reactions to be genuine. Parisa could have believed my desire to find Imoen might have swayed me to Bodhi, but the rest of you? It would looked too suspicious if we'd all pitched up elated at the prospect of allying with _vampires_.'

Aerie swelled with righteous outrage. 'So you- you just _lied_ to us?'

Fritha halted to send her a stern look.

'Name one instance where I told you we would be allying with the vampires. I merely refused to comment either way and you all assumed I was desperate enough to go ahead with it –and, goodness, if you all weren't almost right,' she laughed ruefully, her eyes taking on a certain distance. 'To have Bodhi before me, someone tangible who could stand there and say, _"I know where Imoen is"_… it was almost like being next to her herself…'

Fritha shook her head, the dull resignation back to her voice as she continued, 'Anyway, I needed to talk to them, however unlikely it was they would let something slip; I had to try… We would have been watched from the first moment Parisa approached me; I could not tell you of my plan and risk them discovering what I intended. I'm very sorry if you feel betrayed in this, but it was the only way I could see to proceed… Still,' Fritha sighed, turning to resume their course and seemingly unconcerned as to whether anyone was following her or not, 'at least I've enough information now to clear my debt with Renal.' She smiled faintly, 'I would have before hoped that, had we learnt enough, he could have been persuaded to put the resources of the Shadow Thieves at our disposal to aid in Imoen's search, though that seems rather unlikely now we have discovered _their_ part in this production…'

There was a bitter finality to her voice and no one spoke again until they reached the Coronet, their group taking a table together in the bustling common room and bringing with them the unnatural cold of the graveyard which seemed to be, unsurprisingly, directed at Fritha. And it was an atmosphere that someone, at least, felt was overly harsh, Haer'Dalis volunteering to get the first round of drinks in and pointedly asking Fritha if she would help him and they were gone, the group's order arriving on a tray borne by an obliging maid shortly after with no sign of the pair's return.

Anomen gazed down at the dark heavy ale that half filled his tankard, letting the clamour of his surrounds drift over him unheeded. Minsc had already retired, bidding them all a cheery 'Goodnight', merely glad they were not to be working with the vampires, though Cernd, Jaheira and Aerie lingered at the table still, the former two in quiet conversation, while the latter was sat but one place from him. Anomen glanced to the elf from the corner of his eye, Aerie taking to the wine with a much more enthusiasm than usual and she was already on her third cup, her eyes fixed unwavering on the bar and he craned his neck to see at what she was staring so vehemently, though he was sure he could have made a good guess.

Fritha and Haer'Dalis were sat at the bar, presumably where they had first arrived, two large pitchers he could only assume were full of alcohol making them instantly popular, and the pair were both engaged in talk, Haer'Dalis chatting with the traveller on his right who looked to be some sort of minstrel from the balalaika slung across his back, while Fritha…

Anomen felt his face flush as he watched her talking animatedly with a blond elf whom he recognised from that summer spent in the Coronet looking for a company with whom to make his name when he was but a squire. Salvanus, as the elf was called, had spent _his_ evenings looking for company of another sort, trying to charm his way into the bed of any woman within the tavern who was not inclined to charge. Though, for all that, he did not seem to be getting too far with Fritha, whatever courting techniques he had at his disposal no more than the height of hilarity from way she was laughing, Haer'Dalis always with half an eye on her as they spoke.

Anomen sighed, lifting his tankard for a flat warm mouthful, her exuberance grating on him in a way it never had before. He wished he could just be as Minsc, and a part of him was as well; so relieved that they were not to be allied with the vampires, that he would not have his loyalties to the Order tested so harshly, and Fritha's reasoning for the deception had been rational enough. But for all that, _he_ could not reason away the hurt he felt, his mind and heart stuck in that moment back at the cemetery, his desperation at its peak as the girl had wrenched herself away from him, all his concerns dismissed as selfish worries for his own reputation, and all he could think on now was how she had known then that she was to refuse Bodhi; how it had all been an act…

The past few days he had spent in worry and turmoil were now found to have been utterly unnecessary, and though he understood her reluctance to reveal her plans, the knowledge did nothing to ease the ache of her duplicity.

Anomen shook his head, letting his eyes find her again in hope that the sight of her would soothe him as it had many times before. She was still in conversation with Salvanus, the elf now sat on the stool next to her and the knight watched as he leaned closer, long slender fingers stroking suggestively around the rim of her cup as he shifted in his seat, a leg suddenly pressed against one of her own.

Anomen did not recall standing but he was certainly on his feet now, marching across to them, the elf's voice rising from the general din as he approached.

'Women are like wine-'

'Yes,' interrupted Fritha promptly, 'you can't tell the difference once the label's off!'

She, Haer'Dalis and the minstrel promptly burst into raucous laughter, Salvanus undeterred as he leaned closer.

'Oh, my lady, you do me great wrong. I guarantee, let me peel the clothes from your form and I shall lavish attentions upon you which are wholly-' a shadow fell over him, the elf turning to gaze up at the huge form looming behind his seat, Anomen's eyes almost black under the scowl he was sending him and the knight felt a slight satisfaction as Salvanus paled. The elf emptied his cup in one gulp. 'Oh, I appear to be quite dry, perhaps I should-'

He was gone in an instant, Fritha laughing as she kicked out the stool he had left, Haer'Dalis and the stranger going back to their previous talk.

'Ah, Anomen, pull up a pew. Can I offer you a drink? We've ale or wine.'

Anomen eyed the two earthenware pitchers with a frown, her blithe ignorance merely fuelling his temper.

'No, thank you,' he answered, each word clipped, 'So, you intend to save your feet and get drunk _here_ for a change?'

Fritha smiled wryly, taking another sip.

'Well, I don't think Parisa is very happy with me at the moment and she might just be foolish enough to ignore Bodhi's orders and come to have a go; not the best time to be wandering about the city.'

'Well, I am glad, at least, to see that you have not allowed your myriad of _deceits_ to ruin your evening.'

Fritha slammed her cup down with a force than made him start, unmindful of the dark red wine she had just spattered up her sleeve.

'Oh yes, I'm having a bloody marvellous time, can't you tell? Gods, I was so _close_ to her…' she breathed, her eyes narrowed and bright with a darkness he had not seen in them before. 'Do you know what it was like? To be stood there before Bodhi, to _know_ she knows where Imoen is, that if I could just somehow _make_ her tell me…' Fritha snorted bitterly, 'But, no, and I refused to ally with her too, and now my only hope of seeing Imoen before _midsummer_ is to find a man who can't be found! And to top it all off, I've got Aerie over there sending me a look that could vinegar mywine, and now _you've_ arrived to upbraid me!' Fritha sighing deeply, her anger seemingly spent, 'Not that any of this was unanticipated…'

Anomen just sat, silent as she turned back her cup, lifting it from the puddle of wine and leaning casually over the bar with the manner of one who was on first name terms with the servers to fetch a rag from under the counter. So much misery and frustration all borne so resignedly, as though she really had stopped expecting anything better, her raw emotions mixing with his own, and it was all he could do not to embrace her where she sat. He watched, rigid in himself, as she dropped the rag back under the bar, leaning back to sigh and raise her cup for another sip.

'I'm sorry if you feel betrayed, Anomen. The chance to find Imoen might not have been worth allying with vampires, but it was certainly worth you all hating me and that, I fear, is that.' She glanced to him with a tired smile. 'You'll understand one day.'

Anomen drew back with a sharp breath hardly able to believe her words. _He _had been willing to lose everything, to endure the condemnation of both his peers and his superiors for her, and yet there she sat, cool and belittling, as he was once again judged as the man he no longer was.

'And that is how you see me, is it?' he demanded, everything around him falling away as his resentment was suddenly in control, 'Some- some self-centred _lout_ who has never had the desire or even the _thought_ to put someone ahead of his own interests? Who- who cannot _understand_ what it would be to risk everything for someone! The _things_ I would have done, Fritha!' He shook his head, jaw clenched as he forced the confession back

_No, not like this…_

Anomen drew a deep breath, stepping from his stool as he did so. 'I know very well of the sacrifice of which you speak, _my lady_, so do not presume to condescend to me merely because you are blind to anything but your own troubles –and ones which, for once, you mostly brought upon yourself!'

Fritha made no word in her defence, merely dipped her head in deference to his anger and turned back to her drink, Haer'Dalis noticing to place an arm casually along her shoulders and bring her into his conversation, topping up her cup with his free hand as he continued his talk with the man at his side. Anomen stared down at them a moment longer before turning to sweep away; many more things were waiting behind his tensed jaw, too close to being said, and some on matters that should never be shouted in anger.

xxx

Jaheira let her hand close about the banister, the stairs seeming a much steeper climb than they usually did, her bones creaking like the wooden boards beneath her feet, Cernd but a step behind her, though they were not the first pair to have retired that evening.

Haer'Dalis and Fritha had left the common room together about an hour ago and the atmosphere over their table had got, if possible, even worse; Anomen sat nursing his ale with a permanent scowl while the elf had drunk almost a whole carafe of wine to herself and Jaheira really had no desire to see the monster that would awaken, the druid finally deciding to call it a night, Cernd rising as she did and together the pair had left the table. She glanced to the man just behind her, his face dipped slightly as he climbed and though she did not need to see it; he had been wearing the same lifeless expression since he had left the park, as though all the colour had been drained from the world.

Not that she had expected much else, and for a moment she was back there, at the far side of the park where a grove of trees had been planted, so close their branches entwined above them, the pair having left their group only moments before to allow Cernd some time to vent his emotions, the man no less than raging at existence for the injustice of his situation before breaking down, Jaheira stood beside him in the gloom, silent as he had wept.

A sigh behind her as they finally reached the landing, the hallway now wide enough for two and Cernd moved to stand next to her.

'Well, it has been quite the day; it seems an age ago that we were sat downstairs together, looking up at a moon that defied the dawn.' He smiled absently to himself. 'I feel like a different man…'

Jaheira sighed. 'I am sorry, Cernd, I do not know what to say.'

He shook his head, smiling, albeit weakly. 'What can be said? What words will change the mistakes that have been made. But I should remember that my pain is just that: my own. Ahsdale seems well and happy in his home and that is the most important thing. I must learn to accept this and move on. Well, goodnight, Jaheira,' he finished hoarsely, pointedly avoiding looking back to her as he moved off down the corridor.

'Yes, goodnight, Cernd.'

She watched as he disappeared into his room, wishing she could do the same, though one remaining task fell to her before she could finally take her rest. Jaheira walked along the hallway, past her own room to halt outside another of the plain doors, the sound of singing drifting through the wood. She knocked.

'Fritha?'

But no answer was made and she pushed open the door, the scene that greeted her quite as she had expected. Haer'Dalis was sat on the floor, back resting against the bed frame, a large pitcher of wine at his side, while Fritha lay supine on bed behind him, cup in her hand and her head hanging over the edge of the bed to rest level with his, albeit the wrong way up, a waterfall of copper curls cascading down to pool on the floor next to him. They had not noticed her entrance, the pair of them singing earnestly as they were.

'_It is good to be merry and wise, it is good to be honest and true, it is best to be off with the old looooove, before you are on with the new!'_

Fritha was smiling, straightening only slightly as she brought her cup to her lips and the druid watched, waiting for the liquid to surge over her face as the girl tipped the cup almost vertical, but it did not happen, and Jaheira wondered if even the girl realised how her powers were growing.

'Fritha.'

The girl let her head hang back, regarding her from an upturned face. 'Ah, hello Jaheira.'

Fritha handed her cup to Haer'Dalis, sitting in one smooth movement and turning around to face her again, her hair falling about her, so wild and dishevelled she was almost lost in it, the girl looking pale and small within as she continued. 'I'd ask if you are here to join us, but I know you are not.'

'I would talk with you,' said Jaheira simply.

Haer'Dalis heaved himself to his feet with a sigh. 'Ah, this sparrow is enough of an actor to hear his cue. I shall return anon, my raven.'

He set their cups on the dresser at the foot of the bed, pausing only to affectionately ruffle Fritha's hair as he made to leave. Jaheira sighed, sinking on to the crumpled covers next to her as the door clicked shut.

'What are you doing, Fritha?'

Fritha smiled wearily. 'The best I can. Are you here to lambaste me for it too?'

'Oh, Fritha, why do you play such games? You must have known how well some of our company would accept your deception –Yes, I _know_, you did not actually lie…' she added with a sigh in face of the girl's indignation, Jaheira placing a conciliatory hand upon her knee as she continued. 'I am not here to condemn your actions, Fritha, but I am worried as to what prompts them… I sometimes wonder whether you don't _want_ us to be angry with you, perhaps as a way to distance yourself from us all.'

Fritha glanced down to her hand with an absent look.

'There is no distance for some of us…'

Jaheira snorted crossly. 'Oh, you speak of Haer'Dalis, do you? I should have know that _troublemaker_ would have a leading role in this!'

'Do not blame him,' Fritha objected sharply, 'this was my plan and mine alone. I make my own choices and I would still do the same were he here or not –though I will not deny they _are_ easier to make when I know there will still be at least one person speaking to me afterwards.'

Jaheira shook her head, feeling tired and certainly not the person to be lecturing anyone about matters of trust.

'And can you blame them? You misled them, Fritha, and I understand your reasoning, but for some it is not enough to take away that sting. You are their leader; they trusted you.'

'Yes, you lot _trust_ me -let us make no mention of the fact you all thought I would ally us with the _vampires_,' Fritha snapped, pulling back from her touch, 'But, yes, I am your leader and you all trust me to make the decisions that will keep us alive… Every mission we undertake to raise this coin brings with it dangers; risks of injury and death and it is _I_ they trust to lead them through unharmed. My plan was uncertain but even so, to have been given something that could lead us straight to Imoen's whereabouts, to instantly be able to end the need for us to crawl through sewers and battle dragons and do who knows what other treacherous work we will have to accept to raise the rest of the coin if this fugitive remains untraceable!' She shook her head, calming as she added, 'You can question much of me, Jaheira, but the fact that I want to get Imoen back and keep everyone alive while we do it, the fact I always have the best interests of this group at heart, that you cannot doubt.'

Jaheira scrubbed a hand across her face, feeling suddenly old as she realised how much such worries clearly pressed upon the girl.

'Oh, Fritha, I do not doubt it, and I do not believe the others do either, but there is more here at stake than just hurt feelings.'

Fritha nodded, sighing deeply. 'Yes, I know, Parisa and her, no doubt, _raging _desire for vengeance. I knew that my decision would make an enemy of her but I stand by it nevertheless; the risk was worth the slim possibility of success and I do not regret it.'

'Worth it?' cried Jaheira; the self-destructive path the girl seemed so content to walk merely worrying her further, 'Fritha, the woman likely wants you dead!'

Fritha shook her head, the absent look back as she turned to gaze at the dresser behind her, the two cups of dark red wine set side by side.

'No, she won't kill me, not once she's calmed down anyway. You heard Bodhi, _"you may yet serve our plans"_. This wasn't about the money or even the guild war; they want something, something from me.' Fritha turned back to her, her voice firm. 'Parisa won't dare kill me, not when there's a chance something even more horrible will happen to me; I sincerely doubt that whatever Bodhi has planned is going to be pleasant.'

xxx

Haer'Dalis leaned back against the wall with a sigh, rather wishing he had brought his wine with him as he waited outside Fritha's door for the druid to finish her admonishments and leave the pair of them in peace once more. The poor raven; she had suffered much at the hands of the Fates lately, and her ongoing resilience reminded him of his friends in the troupe. Dramatic sensitive people who were all too willing to bemoan their fortunes and drown their sorrows, but with that same steel which rested beneath the histrionic exterior, and all knew that, when the time came, they would be the first to get their heads down and just get on with it.

'Oh, so you're out here then,' came a voice along the corridor and Haer'Dalis turned to see Aerie stood at the top of the stairs, the girl swaying ever so slightly as she set off towards him. The man shrugged loosely, knowing she was likely in a temper with him and not much caring.

'For the moment, yes. Jaheira arrived to speak with the raven not long ago and I am waiting for her to leave before I make my return; you can join us if you wish.'

Aerie sniffed coldly. 'No, thank you, I wouldn't want to _intrude_.'

Haer'Dalis just checked rolling his eyes; why hadn't he just waited in his room?

'Aerie, it is no secret. The raven and I are merely following the grand theatre tradition and expunging her sorrows in wine and song -the former something you yourself seem to have been partaking of this evening,' he added in an undertone that Aerie missed, the girl still choking on his first sentence.

'_Her _sorrows? Fritha is the _root_ of all this! And what of anyone else's troubles? What of _mine_?'

Haer'Dalis sighed, trying to keep his tone more on the side of concerned than exasperated.

'What in the planes is wrong, Aerie? You did not wish to work for the vampires and we are not; I truly thought you would be happy.'

'_Happy?_' she repeated shrilly, 'Fritha lied to us! All that worry and uncertainty; I feared this group would fracture under the weight of the decision –and you have no _idea_ what poor Anomen had been prepared to do!'

Haer'Dalis snorted his disdain. 'Hand her over to those paladins, more is like! Fritha did what she had to do. Just as _I_ did when the troupe was being hunted, and I seem to recall you were forgiving enough of my own lies back then.'

'That was different. You were fleeing for your lives and we hardly knew you. But Fritha is our leader; doesn't it at least bother you?' Aerie drew back from him, eyes suddenly narrowed in a calculating look, 'Unless- unless, she told you of her plan.'

'Of course, she did not, my dove. She knew to tell me would only have put me in a poor position lying to you.'

'Oh, so you _would_ have lied to me then.'

'_What?_' he cried, hardly able to believe how he was getting backed into an argument, 'Aerie, I refuse to quarrel with you about things that are irrelevant! Fritha did not tell me of what she had planned and I do not care either way; it was a worthy gamble and I am sorry it did not pay off for her.'

Haer'Dalis shook his head, heaving a sigh as he pushed himself upright and set off down the hallway.

'Where are you going?' Aerie called after him.

'To my room -and I think _you_ should retire to yours.'

She did not heed him though and he listened to her footsteps follow him to his room, the man sinking on to the bed as soon as he entered, turning to find Aerie lingering in the doorway looking small and dejected.

'I'm sorry, Haer'Dalis.'

The tiefling sighed and patted the space next to him, putting an arm about her and kissing her temple once she was at his side.

'As am I, dove. I know you were worried that you would lose your place in the world; I just do not think Fritha needs your blame at the moment. Ah, how the tempests of this life harry and toss us fragile birds as the world falls to decay around us; it is times like these I do not doubt that the silence of oblivion is the only true peace.'

Aerie glanced to him, the hurt plain on her open face. 'Oh, Haer'Dalis, why do you say such things?'

'Because experience has shown me it is so and I believe you would have a much existence if you accepted it as well, my dove.'

The elf shook her head. 'I can't and I don't understand how you can either… but I want to…'

She fixed him with those clear blue eyes, Haer'Dalis drawing back as to better read her face as he confirmed, 'You wish to know of the Doomguard philosophy?'

'Yes, and how you came to believe it… I want to understand it all.'

Haer'Dalis sighed; it was the same question over and over, phrased a thousand different ways. When would the girl understand that trying to force him to recount his past would do nothing bar make him relive it?

'And what do you wish to hear, Aerie? That the theatre can be an escape for the actors as well as the audience? That sometimes a philosophy is all one has? The Cage is a place of wonders, my dove, but it expects recompense, in either blood or spirit. Lokith, Deev, sweet Kaerid; all friends, all dead before their lives had even begun!'

He halted the rant before it got away from him, drawing a deep breath as he continued, 'I was but fifteen when my mother died, not old for one of my kind and still young enough then to be lost without her guidance, however sparing it had been. I was homeless, destitute, with no useful profession. There were still my mother's friends, of course; they would not see Violisé's son out on the streets.' He sneered bitterly, 'Though, naturally, I was expected to _fit in_. It was almost as though she had not died. The way I was welcomed into their circle with open arms, bowed under the weight of her mantle they had placed about my shoulders; no pleasures, no horrors, all acts justified as _experiences_.'

And for a moment, the room about him seemed to darken and he was back there, shapes moving in the shadows about him, faceless in the gloom, the air heavy with incense and smoke and he could feel the hot stale breath on the back of his neck. Haer'Dalis blinked and it was gone, the bard back in his room with Aerie, the girl staring up at him with that soft pleading look.

'Yes,' she murmured, easing a hand under his, 'all of it. I want to hear all of it.'

He shook his head, firm and unmoved. 'No, you do _not_. And _I_ do not wish to tell of it. I found the playhouse a year or so later, and the Doomguard not long after that and I, at last, came to realise that such things were not something to be suffered, but rejoiced in. That this entropy and decay in which we are so steeped is not only the way of things, but a necessary one. This world, this existence is flawed to its very core, only when it ends can a better one be born…'

He glanced back to find Aerie still staring at him, her expression a mask of the predictable pity as she moved to lean her face against his chest.

'Oh, Haer'Dalis, I am sorry, I am so sorry… But, don't you see?' she continued, her voice stronger and filled with a sudden conviction as she straightened, 'You don't have to feel like that anymore. I can understand that back then, to embrace it was easier than to fight on. But it is not like that now. You're here, you have me and together we can make it better; you can be happy.'

He gently cupped a hand about her face. 'Sweet Aerie, and what makes you believe that I am not? And I have no doubt that my upbringing helped me to my present understanding of the world, but does that make the philosophy any less true? Everything I have seen and experienced has affirmed this belief within me. I am a Doomguard, Aerie; it is who I am.'

She pulled back from his touch with a desperate anger.

'But _why?_ How can you be happy, believing in such things? An existence without hope, where all you have to rejoice in is destruction and decay and the end!'

Haer'Dalis gazed back at her, tired of arguing about something that served only to make them both unhappy. Somewhere in the hallway outside a door slammed shut.

'That will likely be the druid leaving,' he said quietly, making to rise, 'I should return to the raven.'

Aerie snorted, uncharacteristically embittered.

'Oh, yes, _Fritha_. Go running to her as you always do, the both of you together, making merry toasts to misery rather than attempting to pull yourselves from it.'

Haer'Dalis turned away, feeling dull and tired. 'At least _she_ accepts this sparrow as he is.'

'And I _don't_, is that it?' the elf cried, 'It is only because I care! You have suffered as I have, I- I just want to make it better for you.'

'But do you not see, Aerie?' he moved to crouch before her, imploring her to understand, 'Those experiences, however unpleasant- they shaped who I am and I accept them.' Haer'Dalis sighed deeply. 'Perhaps I am broken, Aerie, but maybe I am better this way… My dove-'

'Don't call me that!' Aerie snapped, 'Gods, it's like we're in a play, giving each other these names and acting out a part, _anything_ to keep you from actually connecting with another person.' She stared down at him, brow furrowed in her distress. 'To be paired you become part of one another, you share things, even if they are painful. You say it is what made you who you are, that you accept the things that happened to you, well then why won't you talk of it? You haven't accepted it, you've just buried it all; shrugged it off as the way of things –the eternal dirge of the Doomguard!' She reached a hand out to him, 'Haer'Dalis, _please_, I know I can heal you if you will let me.'

Haer'Dalis shook his head gravely, making to rise.

'But for whose benefit will you do so, Aerie? This is who I am now and I am happy in myself. To dredge all that up for nothing… I am not you; I do not want to be healed. You have suffered and you say you have accepted it, but have you? Have you truly? This desperate need you seem to have to learn of my past and somehow erase the mark of its trials… Perhaps I am not the one who requires healing.'

Aerie looked astounded; wide-eyed and flushed in her disbelief. 'Wh-what do you mean?'

'You could wipe away my past and make me anew, Aerie, but it will not bring back your wings and it will not return to you those stolen years.'

'How- how can you bring that up?' she breathed, looking suddenly close to tears in her shock, 'I have accepted my place here, chained to the earth under the sky that was once mine –and at least _I_ have come to terms with it rather than telling myself such miseries are unavoidable and letting the rest of the world suffer as I have!'

Haer'Dalis snorted. 'Come to terms with it, Aerie, or merely ignoring it? Even the way you speak of your loss, of your scars-'

'No,' Aerie cut in, flustered and nettled, the elf standing as well, 'I am done with this! Keep your secrets and your misery, I cannot help you if you will not help yourself.'

She brushed passed him and he did not try to halt her, just listened as her footsteps faded into the hall and a door was slammed shut. Haer'Dalis stood a moment in the silence she had left him in before he turned to leave too, moving along the hallway to a familiar door.

He did not bother to knock, just pushed it open to find Fritha laid upon her bed once more, half curled on her side, her bare feet resting on the pillows, the girl turning her head and smiling faintly as she recognised him.

'Hey sparrow.'

He returned her smile, moving to sit at the foot of the bed, combing gentle fingers through the soft mess of curls at her forehead.

'Hello dear raven, has the ptarmigan finished her scolding?'

Fritha nodded, eyes fluttering closed with an almost feline pleasure, her voice quiet.

'Yes, though to be fair, she was more worried than anything and it was no less than I deserved. They're right to be angry with me; I knew they would be, but I acted anyway.'

'Angry with you?' Haer'Dalis snorted crossly, 'They should be proud of you! That performance was wonderful, my raven. The way you crept so carefully, every question hidden by a veil of artless curiosity and melancholy worries. I have all the _more_ faith in your ability to lead us after such a display!'

Fritha smiled wryly. 'I don't think Jaheira quite sees it like that. She thinks I am being reckless for the sake of it, that I am happily dancing towards my own ruin. But it is not like that. It's just… life is experiences and not all of them are good, and sometimes you must just accept the bad ones and let yourself be broken.'

He laughed quietly, tousling her hair. 'And who is my happy little Doomguard?'

But the girl shook her head, frowning as she tried to explain herself.

'No, it is not about hastening or even embracing it, but accepting that things exist to be broken and change and grow.'

'Ah, if only the dove could see the world as you do.'

'Tut tut, Haer'Dalis,' Fritha reproached with a smile, shifting on to her stomach to rest her chin on her hands, 'you do not like it when Aerie tries to change _you_ –besides, I think you rather like her eternal optimism.'

Haer'Dalis sighed, sinking on to the floor next to her to lean back against the bed frame as he had been before he left.

'Perhaps I do, though I do not believe the same for her about me. I fear she has had her fill of my doom-saying, however cheerfully it is borne.'

'You've had another argument?' Fritha confirmed, sighing ruefully. 'It was my fault wasn't it; this trick with the vampires.'

'Yes, on the surface, though, to be truthful, I am beginning to see that Aerie and I have been arguing about the same thing now since we left Trademeet.' He wondered for a moment whether it would make any difference if he elaborated for her, but perhaps Fritha understood better than he had thought, the girl turning her head to pillow it upon her forearm, eyes staring blankly out at the world.

'People like Aerie, they get hurt badly early on in life and they can live in fear of it forever more. They don't get to understand that however you start out -like children, so innocent and full of love- you cannot remain so. You live, you break, you mend and change and grow; it's not destructive or tragic, it is just living.'

He watched her sigh.

'But at the same time as it is natural to break, it is also natural to mend.' At last, Fritha glanced to him, her eyes black in the lamplight. 'I am not saying you need to change your philosophy, Haer'Dalis, but you came by it from your experiences in the world and it would seem strange to resist further and some might say more pleasant ones for fear of losing your beliefs. Aerie is still trying to work through her pain and you are content remaining broken and neither of you is doing the other any good at the moment.'

She shifted slightly, turning away from him again. 'Life is not a simple thing, but it can be _lived_ simply. What do you want, Haer'Dalis? Just find out what you desire more than anything and then go for it.'

Haer'Dalis frowned, feeling strangely exposed. He did not like Fritha when she got like this; all slow and measured and too insightful by half.

'Interesting advice, my raven, though I do not see any evidence that _you_ are following it,' he accused, but the girl merely laughed tiredly.

'You do not believe that. This whole evening should have shown you what _I _strive for.'

Haer'Dalis swallowed dryly. 'But at the expense of everything else?'

'Yes, if that's what you want. If it's worth it.' She fixed him with an unyielding look, a quiet intensity to her face, 'Is it worth it, Haer'Dalis?

He turned away from her, staring down at his pale hands, calloused from lyre and blade both. Well, was it?


	63. A house divided

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**A house divided**

It was very late; or very early, depending on which way one was to look at it, a watery grey light just beginning to creep over the eastern horizon, a hint to the dawn that was still a couple of hours away. Haer'Dalis looked out on it with tired world-weary eyes, the city as grey as the sky that hung over it. The Prime, that of place such mild diversity. It had not the extremes of the planes -of infernal and celestial splendours both, of suffocating rules and boundless madness- but its own even mix of all of them still kept it interesting in its own unique way.

He had first travelled there out of necessity, the Prime as good a place as any to hide from those bounty hunters and the troupe had secured the theatre and spent a few dull months in Athkatla before they had been discovered and his skills were called upon to fetch the planar gem and secure them a means of escape. A task that had been managed eventually though not as any of them had envisioned, and he remembered it very clearly, stood, his friends of the troupe pressing in about him, making their farewells as that Astral prison collapsed around them.

When he had first asked to join with Fritha and her Prime-bound band he had never planned to stay. Not that he had ever really _planned_ anything, content to take life as and when it came, just as he always had. No, the Prime had merely been a place where he could make an escape of his own, working so closely with Raelis doing nothing to heal her rejection of him, and he felt the break would do him good before he made his return to the planes with fresh eyes and a mended heart. But the Prime had formed a far greater claim on him than he had ever expected.

He had liked Aerie almost from their very meeting, the girl open and enthusiastic, unmarred by the ever-present cynicism which pervaded in Sigil. She had seemed naïve too, another rare trait, though as he grew to know her better he had realised that such may have been more assumed on his part than was actually the case. She had suffered much in her young life and it merely made her all the more the rarity that she could still see the world with such bright optimism, and throughout their myriad of confessions and quarrels, it had been that, her beautiful aura of hope that had kept his regard firm.

He could never have anticipated that it would be the thing that eventually came between them.

He had been a Doomguard for decades now; ever since he had been introduced to its philosophies and his eyes had finally been opened to the nature of the multiverse. It had been his guide, unwavering and true, through the twisted chaos of the planes. And so why did he suddenly feel the wretched _namer_, as though he had been giving false worship to a philosophy that had no hold on his heart?

It was not as though he had lost his beliefs; indeed, he saw more than enough to give credence to the Doomguard philosophy all about him. But it was not an issue of whether he could or could not believe it anymore, but a nagging doubt that perhaps Aerie was right, the philosophy he had followed almost all his life merely a shield he hid behind, rather than facing up to the ordeals of his past.

Of course, there was only one true way to find out, and it was one which could serve to change him and all he believed forever. Still, perhaps it was as Fritha had said; perhaps _she_ was worth it.

The girl on the bed behind him stirred, muttering something too quiet for him to understand. Fritha had been so ever since she fell asleep, whispering away to herself, sometimes in languages unfamiliar to him, though she never woke and with her cheeks still holding their vinous blush, he had not even bothered to cover her with the quilt in the end. He watched her a moment longer, curled upon her side with her back to him and the world beyond the window, one hand entwined about the cords at her neck while the other lay carelessly next to her, palm up and fingers parted, as though waiting for another's hand to lead her in some dance.

The bard left her sleeping, stealing from the room and locking the door behind him, confident the girl's magics would not make a prisoner of her. The corridor was dark and silent and seemed much longer than it usually did, her door a few paces from him and he walked them with a trepidation that was as frightening as it was stirring.

He knocked softly, more concerned of alarming than waking her; he knew that Aerie, like him, was unlikely to have slept that night. And sure enough, there was a rustle, a creak and a voice croaked out, 'come in'.

The curtains were closed against what little light there was, the whole room laid out in shades of grey as though he had somehow stepped into the Plane of Shadow. And there she was in the gloom, sat on the bed slightly hunched and wearing the same clothes she had been when they had parted, Aerie staring blankly back at him as he moved to kneel before her, gazing up into a face that could have been carved from alabaster so emotionless it was.

'Aerie, I cannot apologise again; I fear we are both tired of hearing the words that come to naught. But I have been thinking, and what I will say is this: I am yours and, from now on, whatever you wish to hear of my past, my thoughts, anything, then you need only ask; I lay it all bare before you and will accept the consequences as they come, because I love you and there should be nothing between us.' He stared up at her face, her eyes bright and glassy. 'Aerie?'

She said nothing, just dipped her head as she began to sob into her hand and for want of anything else, Haer'Dalis rose to sit next to her, a gentle arm about her shoulders as he let her cry.

xxx

Fritha slowly opened her eyes, a wan grey light pouring through the open curtains and she could feel the beginnings of a headache already throbbing in her temples. She did not recall getting to bed the night before, but she was there now, laying face down and fully clothed on top of the quilt, her hip sore from where one of her belt buckles had been pressing into it as she'd slept. Fritha rolled on to her back to stare up at the ceiling with unfocused eyes. She knew what would have to be done now, had known since last night and Bodhi's little revelation, and Fritha, wanting to look at it practically, knew it would be something that would be easier to bear with the haze of last night's wine still blanketing her from the world. She sighed and slowly sat, heaving off her tunic and wondering vaguely where her bag was as she made to change her clothes.

The world outside was like an assault to her senses, even at that early hour, the stale heavy reek of the slums combining with the low rumble of a city awaking and Fritha felt as though she could still be asleep, the world about her distant and unreal. The clear grey sky above was pale, glary with the dawn's light and she was glad of her hood, drawn up to shield her eyes as she made her way to the docks.

Myrtle was there as she always was, sat at the foot of the stairs pouring over a ledger that was likely the guildmaster's diary for the day and, though she looked surprised to see her there so early, the girl showed her straight up, explaining that the Thief Master had only just risen himself in that cheerful way of hers that Fritha found somehow depressing that morning. And finally the door was open and she was stood in that simple room before that familiar low table, not yet strewn with parchment as it usually was and baring only a neat lacquered tray set with tea, Renal Bloodscalp looking up with a genial surprise.

'Ah, good morning, Fritha,' he smiled, gesturing to cushions opposite, the girl removing her cloak and taking a seat as he continued, 'Well, this is a surprise, though not an unpleasant one, I might add. Will you take tea?'

She nodded and he poured her some, passing it over to her. Fritha stared down at the cup now nestled in her hand, a fine white porcelain with the inside glazed in blue, so neat and pretty, and she felt suddenly very sad.

'Well, to what do I owe this pleasure?'

'I have more information for you concerning the vampire guild,' she answered promptly, the girl relating to him all that Parisa had rather foolishly told her the night before. Renal listened to it all in silence, though he made no attempt to hide his admiration when she at last finished her account.

'Well, even for one who makes his living by gathering such information, that is astounding work, Fritha; how on Toril did you come by this knowledge?'

Fritha watched the tealeaves drift in her cup.

'Actually, their guild approached us. They offered us a path to my friend, Imoen, and for only five thousand gold.' She glanced up from her tea to fix him with an unwavering look, 'A quarter of the sum the Shadow Thieves asked of us.' Renal did nothing. If he was surprised, he betrayed nothing of it in his face, the man just sat on other side of table like a statue as she continued, 'I just want to know one thing: did you know where Imoen was all this time, Renal?'

He remained still a moment longer and Fritha dropped her attention back to her cup listening as he swallowed, though his voice was clear as he spoke and she did not look up to watch him as he answered; if he was lying she did not want to know.

'I know no more than you, Fritha, the name of the asylum. Only the Shadow Master, Aran Linvail, knows of its location. Funds were needed to finance this on-going guild war. Your gold was to pay for your transport there and keep our own guild from falling to the vampires.'

Fritha nodded once, draining the last of her tea and setting the cup down on the table before her with a certain irrevocability.

'I see. Well, it seems our arrangement is finally concluded.'

For the first time ever in their acquaintance, Renal looked rattled. 'You- you accepted their offer?'

Fritha smiled humourlessly, shaking her head as she rose.

'Come now, Renal, I should hardly be here telling you all I have if that were the case. No, no, despite popular opinion to the contrary, even _I_ draw the line at working with vampires. I was referring to our agreement: that you would look out for work for us in return for information on the guild. I do not think they will be quite so trusting of me in future, not once they find out I've brought everything they told me straight to yourself, and you have more than fulfilled your part of the deal.' Fritha looked down at him, this man whom she had so trusted, and against everyone else's advisement too, the aid he had afforded them no less welcome despite this betrayal. 'You have helped us greatly over the last few months, Renal, and I thank you for it. Well,' Fritha sighed, swinging her cloak about her shoulders once more, 'I don't imagine we will ever have reason to meet each other again now our arrangement is concluded.' She dipped a bow. 'I wish you well, Renal. Goodbye.'

Downstairs, the room was empty, Myrtle nowhere to be seen and Fritha crossed instantly to the alcove she knew was nestled beside the main doors, pushing aside the long dark curtain to spend a few blissful moments sobbing in front of the shrine to Mask, before she manage to compose herself enough to make her prayers for Imoen, leaving the collection bowl a few coins the heavier.

The sun had finally crested the eastern rooftops by now, staining the world a sleepy yellow and the docks were alive with people; travellers and sailors alike all rushing down to the quays, ready to sail with the morning's tide, while lines of couriers ran past her, shallow trays of fresh fish in their arms as they headed for the markets of the Promenade. The bustle of the place was almost painful and she could feel the shrine to Oghma calling to her, enticing her to lose herself in its sanctuary of dust and silence. But, it would do nothing in the end and she knew it, and she forced herself past the place, the girl walking a slow pace back to the slums.

xxx

Anomen walked the streets of the slums, sunlit and pleasant, the warm dawn light seeming to lessen the weight on his heart. Losing his temper with Fritha the previous evening had been a disappointing return to old habits and he had wanted very much to speak to her that morning. But he had risen early to attend matins and he did not feel waking her, especially after the evening she had undoubtedly had, would have been particularly welcome. He glanced up to her window as he finally arrived back at the Coronet, the curtains open just as they had been when he had left and he wondered if she was awake yet.

He was still trying to decide whether or not it was too early to wake her as he reached the corridor, finally settling on knocking very softly on her door with the idea of leaving if there was no answer, though to his surprise it opened but a moment later, revealing the girl up and dressed, her sword already slung at her hip.

'Oh, Fritha, are you going somewhere?'

'I've just arrived back from the Thieves' Guild,' she answered with an impatient glare.

'I see… I wonder if I might speak with you about something, my lady?'

She sighed deeply, turning back into her room leaving the door open behind her. 'Fine, come in and let's get this over with.'

Anomen frowned, following her inside though he had barely closed the door when she whirled back to him, eyes flashing.

'Come on then, I know you're _dying_ to say 'I told you so'. Go on, say it! I knew the Thieves' Guild were trouble and now you've got just as you deserve and-'

'Fritha, will you please calm down,' he cut in firmly, her anger unusual enough to be alarming, 'I have no intention of saying anything of the sort. That we were raising this coin for the thieves all along really is the least of any evils I would have been expecting of them. Really, does it even matter as long as they uphold their part in the arrangement and Imoen is returned to you?'

The girl seemed to sag where she was stood, sinking on to the bed behind her with a sigh.

'I'm sorry.'

Anomen frowned, this melancholy far harder to bear than her anger had been.

'As am I. If I detested Bloodscalp before, it is certainly nothing compared to how I hate him now, having seen you so distressed.'

The girl just nodded, not even bothering to look up. 'I'm sorry about last night too, the things I said -I don't know what's wrong with me at the moment.'

'I should apologise as well, my lady, 'I'm sure half of what I was saying did not make sense, but-' Anomen chuckled nervously, no explanation ready for her, though she did not seem to expect one and he felt his heartache blossom anew at her despondency. 'But please do not dwell on this, my lady-' he continued hastily, having to force himself to speak past the sudden dryness to his throat, 'Er, Simon has arranged a gathering tonight, he wishes to know if you would like to attend.'

Fritha looked up, the beginnings of a frown creeping in. 'A gathering?'

Anomen flushed, trying to look anywhere but her face.

'Ah yes… it has been planned for a long while now, though I forget the occasion –it should prove an adequate distraction, if nothing else.'

He glanced down to see the girl considering it before she nodded, smiling now, albeit wanly.

'Yes, that would be nice. Thank you, Anomen, and please give Simon my thanks too. I have to attend some rehearsals at the theatre, but it shouldn't go on too late. Perhaps I could meet you all somewhere afterwards.'

It seemed only moments later Anomen was stood in the courtyard of the Order's compound on the edge of the smiths, a familiar blond head dipped before him, its owner hunched slightly as he slowly drew a fine long blade across the whetstone.

'Simon?'

The squire glanced up, smiling as he recognised him.

'Anomen, what brings you here? I thought you'd have a full schedule rescuing damsels and slaying dragons.'

Anomen shook his head, ignoring his teasing to say only, 'Simon, I need a favour.'

**…**

'This is _exactly_ the sort of thing I was talking about the other night; it is as though you don't _want _her to like you!'

Anomen sighed deeply. It had not taken him long to explain to Simon his rather impulsive falsehood and the reasons for it -though he had neglected mention the _cause_ of Fritha's melancholy. And for his part, Simon was more than willing to aid him in the task, agreeing that he would get word about their friends and arrange a hasty gathering; though not without giving the knight a stern lecture first it seemed, the squire before him now and frowning as he continued his reprimand.

'You always were you own worst enemy when it came to such things, Anomen, forever unwilling just to be yourself and keeping everyone at a distance with unnecessarily formalities. I notice you still insist on addressing her as _my lady_.'

'Simon-'

'And why we are pretending this was all _my_ idea when it was your own and all for the reason of cheering her? It is care like this Fritha needs to see!'

'Simon!' Anomen snapped, finally halting his friend's tirade, '_Because_ if she suspects this is all just for her benefit she would feel as though she were inconveniencing us and refuse to come.'

Simon sighed, shaking his head though he seemed appeased enough.

'Fine, fine, I will speak to everyone and let you know.'

Anomen nodded once, gripping his friend's shoulder firmly, wishing he could somehow put the same strength of feeling into his words and express the deep gratitude he felt.

'Thank you, Simon.'

The man just grinned, clapping his arm heartily before turning back to his work and Anomen knew he had understood.

xxx

Jaheira nodded as the maid quickly rattled her order back to her, the girl making note of where they were sitting before disappearing off into the kitchens, Jaheira turning from the bar to head back to her table and two men she had left. It was late in the afternoon in the common room of the Coronet, the street outside washed in a contrast of golden light and blackest shadows as the sunset blazed in the west. Fritha had been occupied at the theatre all day, which had left Jaheira to organise the rest of their group in a search for some work while they continued their so far futile hunt for Valygar, though it had been easier said than done. Haer'Dalis and Aerie seemed to have vanished from the face of Toril, no sign of the pair when the group had assembled around a table at lunch and, according to Cernd, no one had answered when he had knocked for them either.

Jaheira sighed as she watched the man himself gazing blankly out the window next to him, Minsc clearly knowing enough not to disturb his introspection. Cernd had been the same at noon, no outward change to his actions or words, but there was nothing behind them, his eyes dull above the bland smile. His new found despondency with the world had not prevented him from offering to accompany Minsc over to the Council Buildings to look at the bounty notices though and Jaheira was grateful that whatever pain he felt he was willing put it aside for his duties to them and this reluctance to wallow in his misery gave her hope that he would recover from his loss in time.

Anomen had been helpful too, the knight informing her he had already asked at the temple of Helm that morning and agreeing to visit the temples of Illmater and Tymora in the slums, which had left her with the unenviable task of asking about the bustling Promenade.

Jaheira had borne the crowds as best she could, though it had still been a fruitless task and it had been she who had returned to the inn first, taking a table in the common room to mull over a tea and her continuing worries. Anomen had arrived back not long afterwards to join her in a cup, before he had disappeared off to his room, returning an hour later in the tunic she recognised from Moira's funeral and his knighting both, the man looking rather handsome and _very _nervous as he's bid her a polite 'farewell'. Though she was not alone for long, Minsc and Cernd finally arriving back having enjoyed no more fortune than she or Anomen.

'Well, I have placed our order,' Jaheira began, Minsc and Cernd glancing up as she returned to their table, 'it should not be long.'

'Ah, dusk comes and we find our birds here at roost.'

Jaheira turned in her seat to confirm what she already knew, Haer'Dalis stood behind her chair with a roguish smile, Aerie at his back.

'There you both are! Where have you been today?'

'You were worried, my ptarmigan?'

Jaheira snorted coolly. 'Not in the slightest, though it would have been good of you to join us earlier --perhaps while there was still _work_ to be done.'

Haer'Dalis smiled and dipped his head with what looked to be almost sincere regret.

'Forgive us, good Jaheira, but, as I am sure more than one of us can appreciate, last night had not the most restful of airs and this day found Aerie and I catching up on some much needed sleep -though this sparrow is happy to make up his toil now if you've some task for me?'

Jaheira shook her head. It was not as though there had been anything urgent to do that day, and she understood well enough. She suffered from it on occasion herself, that weariness that came from a life spent always on the move, never settling anywhere for long, always wondering where the next coin was coming from, the quarrels and bad feeling they had been steeped in lately hardly helping matters. If the couple had managed to escape it all for a day then she wished them well, though Jaheira wonder how beneficial it had truly been, still something of the weary lingering about Aerie, the girl looking drawn and pale as she silently took the seat the bard was holding out for her.

'No, no,' the druid dismissed, waving away his offer with a sigh '-though we have already ordered our meal if you planned to eat with us.'

Haer'Dalis nodded once, immediately sweeping off to the bar to no doubt make a couple of additions to their order.

'So, good Jaheira,' came Minsc after a silence long enough to make even him uncomfortable, 'what are we to be enjoying this evening from the kitchens?'

The woman shrugged. 'The choices were crab stew or grilled mackerel and rice; I ordered one dish of each.'

'Ah, very fine, though no good for Boo, eh?' the ranger laughed, gently fishing the hamster that had been nestled and sleeping in the pouch at his belt, the creature yawning widely as it perched in his hand, rubbing tiny clawed hands vigorously over its face. 'Boo does not worry though, he knows I am always carrying seeds for such occasions.'

'Should we not have waited for Fritha and Anomen to arrive as well?' asked Cernd quietly, seemingly only just realising the pair were absent, Minsc glancing up too, though Jaheira shook her head.

'No, I spoke to Fritha before she left for the theatre; she and Anomen won't be returning until much later tonight.'

'They are _out?_' came Haer'Dalis from behind her chair, the man returned from the bar and fixing wide near-black eyes on the druid as he exclaimed, '_Together?_'

The druid smiled slightly. 'Indeed, apparently there is some gathering of the Order or the like tonight –Anomen's friend, Simon, invited her.'

Haer'Dalis threw himself into the chair next to Aerie with a loud laugh.

'Ha! The Squire Simon, you say? How wonderful! That should cheer her- er, which will, ah, benefit us all…' he finished falteringly, sending a wary look to Aerie, but the girl had not even lifted her attention from her hands and Haer'Dalis turned back to the table looking disheartened. 'So,' he sighed, though he looked little interested in the reply as he asked, 'does another noble quest await these birds on the morrow?'

Jaheira shook her head.

'I fear not and our own funds are dwindling. There is so little work in the city now the winter is here -it may be that we will have to widen our search and postpone our hunt for the fugitive while we engage in work away from Athkatla to earn some coin.'

The bard whistled through his teeth.

'I do not envy the hound tasked with broaching that with Fritha; perverse in nature though it is, this Valygar is her saviour.'

Cernd nodded absently. 'She gave up on the vampires' aid and now she must give up on the Cowled Wizards' as well? You ask much of the girl.'

Jaheira frowned, wondering who she was trying to convince as she assured them, 'Fritha is not unreasonable, merely… _focused_. She will see sense.'

'Here we are,' came a welcome interruption at her shoulder, Jaheira glancing up into the round and slightly shiny face of Bernard, the portly barkeep, a large tray carrying two pitchers and several cups grasped in his slab-like hands. 'Right, it was one of the wine and one of the wheatbeer, was it not?' he confirmed cheerfully, leaning over to set the tray on the table before her and unload it, his ample bulk easily hiding the small square of parchment as he dropped it into her lap, her name written on the front in a familiar angular hand.

'And your meal should not be much longer. Enjoy your evening.'

xxx

Anomen pushed open the door, the tavern beyond still quiet from the afternoon lull, the staff using the time to make their preparations for the considerably busier evening ahead. A group of musicians were setting up in the corner of the dance floor, while maids flitted back and forth lighting lamps and cleaning tables, one stood on a chair and polishing the large mirror that hung over the fireplace, Anomen catching a glimpse of himself in it as he passed, his face almost pale when next to the dark blue of his tunic. It felt strange to be dressed so formally and he wondered again if he should not have just worn one of his plainer ones, worried Fritha would notice the effort he had gone to and somehow realise long-buried feelings from that alone, however implausible such an event was. Simon was easy enough to find, sat at a table one row back from the dance floor and looking relaxed and cheerful in a tunic of deep sky blue, the silver embroidery at the cuffs glinting in the newly lit lamps.

'Ah, Anomen you're here; Erick is just at the bar and Tristan and Marcin should be arriving soon too-'

'Sir Tristan?' Anomen interrupted, as he took the seat next to him, 'I thought he was on campaign in the southern marshes.'

'He was; he and Sir Marcin returned just last night and full of talk about how many lizardmen they slew and villages they rescued.' Simon laughed. 'To hear them talk, you would think it had just been the two of them, not a whole battalion of knights! Now, Sir Diesveld and his sister will be coming later, as will Sir Hugo and his lady wife, Deorna. I spoke to Sadir as well and told him to come and to bring William and Aiden -I imagine Aiden will bring his lady too- Oh, and I invited Lady Irlana and her friends as well. In fact,' Simon grinned, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied look, 'it should be quite the gathering. But where is the guest of honour?'

Anomen shook his head, unable to help smiling; his friend had really surpassed himself.

'_Fritha_ had rehearsals to attend, she said she would be here as soon as she could.'

Simon beamed. 'Ah, I can just see her now. Girls _love_ to go out dancing -my sisters are just the same- she'll be flitting about that theatre of hers, all of a flutter as she dresses her hair and finds her jewellery.'

…

'No, no, no,' scolded Higgold, his nasal voice shrill in his frustration, the man waving a copy of the script under the young actor's nose, 'how many times, Davith? There is a _pause_ after the second line!'

Fritha closed her eyes for the briefest of moments, feeling that this reprimand was hardly likely to help the boy's nerves, Davith looking red-faced and contrite as the rest of the cast fidgeted, tired of these continued interruptions.

She had been at the theatre all day, most of it spent watching this first full rehearsal, though with all the problems and interruptions they were barely halfway through the play. Higgold kept assuring her she could leave 'just after the next scene', and the last hour had found her stood in the wings, all her preparations for that night's gathering done in the snatched moments during set changes, the girl nipping back and forth to her office to wash her face and change her clothes. Fritha sighed tiredly, returning her attention to the comb she was pulling through her hair as Higgold turned back to her.

'Really, my lady, he was much better yesterday.'

'Yes, well, I don't doubt it, but I really should-'

'Perhaps, if we take it again from the top,' Higgold offered, neatly ignoring her protestations.

'Honestly, Higgold, I really have got to leave soon.'

But the director had already turned back to the stage, clapping his hands affectedly. 'Right everyone, we're taking it again from the top. Ketrick, if you can realign the lights.'

Fritha sighed, returning to her brushing, Wynn and the two actresses, Jenna and Iltheia, moving to join her in the wings while Meck and the other hands hurriedly reset the stage.

'So, where are you headed tonight, my lady?' asked Iltheia quietly, angled green eyes taking in her mane of frizzy curls with an openly pained look. Fritha shrugged, head tilting slightly as her comb caught another knot.

'Just to the Mithrest; Simon invited me.'

Jenna just about suppressed a squeal.

'Oooo, _Simon_ -he was lovely!'

'Erick was handsomer,' offered Wynn practically. Jenna shook her head.

'Yes, but he was too quiet. Simon is a _much_ better match for the Lady Patron.'

Fritha smiled and rolled her eyes. 'Will you two behave, I said I'd go dancing with him, not marry the man.'

Wynn grinned in a way that seemed to suggest she knew otherwise.

'As you say, my lady. So what do you intend to wear, then?'

Fritha gestured to her dark red tunic, her amber sash loosely slung across her hips, battered old sandals just visible under the hems of her black linen trousers.

'You're looking at it.'

'No!' cried Jenna seemingly before she could stop herself and looking rather abashed as she continued, 'I mean, you look very nice, of course, but I've a dress that would be perfect.'

'My Lady Patron, we are ready,' trilled Higgold, sending the four a rather stern look over the agreeable smile. Fritha grinned, gathering up her hair to pin it in place.

'Ah, looks like we've just run out of time, girls -From the top then, Higgold?' Jenna hurried and Iltheia sauntered back to their places, Higgold moving from the stage.

'Right then and-'

'Oh, just a moment there,' called a voice from the flies above them, 'the lights still a touch out-'

'That is _it!_' shrieked Iltheia, the elf throwing the thankfully empty tea tray Meck had just handed her to land in the auditorium with a dramatic crash, 'I refuse to work a moment longer with these- these _amateurs_!'

'Oh, Illtheia, my dear! Now, it will just-'

But the woman was not to be placated, the elf sweeping past Higgold's ineffectual flapping to march across the stage and Fritha could have sworn she saw the elf send her a wink as she stormed past them for the dressing room.

'Well, I never,' breathed Wynn, looking deeply impressed that the haughty actress seemed prepared to use her tantrums to help as well as hinder, though Fritha doubted Higgold would have agreed with her.

'Damnation! Ah, I had better go and fetch her back.'

'I really _do _have to go soon, Higgold,' Fritha reminded, the man looking torn before he finally gave up, throwing his hands heavenward with a frustrated sigh.

'All right, all right. That's it for this evening everyone; Ketrick and Alhana, please prepare the stage ready to rehearse the parlour scene first thing tomorrow and then you're all free to go. Iltheia, my dear!'

He bustled past them, leaving the stage with a rather more cheerful atmosphere as the cast began to pack up for the night, Jenna marching straight back to them, her face wearing an unnervingly predatory look, Wynn sweeping an arm towards the dressing rooms.

'Right this way, my Lady Patron.'


	64. Time and tide

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Time and tide **

Fritha moved swiftly through the darkened arena, Waukeen's Promenade empty now and rather eerie for it, all the stalls packed away for another day, while the circus tent loomed out of the darkness, a bright pavilion of life and light in the deepening twilight. The sounds of laughter and applause were echoing about the arena, the scores of windows that were set in the high tiered walls glowing softly, stretching up to the glittering sky as though the stars were falling to earth.

Fritha had reached the north-eastern end of the Promenade by now, the newly rebuilt tower and its shiny copper dome a dark silhouette against the deep blue sky. She did not linger to look at it though, passing quickly to trip up the nearby steps to the first wide terrace, six bright windows set into the warm sandstone frontage, the dark red sign above the door proclaiming _The Mithrest_ in ornate gilded letters.

Fritha paused, suddenly wishing she were instead stood before the familiar peeling door of the Coronet, or even back at her theatre. A whole evening of polite questions and awkward answers seemed to stretch before her, where she would be forced play another role from her rapidly expanding repertoire: Fritha, the demure young lady.  
She sighed, slipping off her coat to fold it over her arm, her eyes drifting over the simple yellow dress she was wearing, narrow-sleeved and full-skirted, her own amber sash now opened out and tied tightly under her bust to form a elaborate bow at her back. Well, at least she looked the part.

If truth be told, she had regretted telling Anomen she would attend almost as soon as the words had left her mouth, her hopes that she would change her mind as the day progressed all coming to naught. Fritha frowned, instantly cross with herself. She would have usually been delighted to have been invited to such a gathering, with its promises of music and dancing, but it had come at the wrong time, with Renal's betrayal and her own group's previous displeasure still hanging over her and she just felt melancholy and out of sorts. She knew as well, though, that it had been very kind of Simon to invite her, just as it was kind of the girls at the theatre to lend her clothes and dress her hair, and she could not change her mind now. Fritha drew a deep breath and released it slowly, nipping at her cheeks to raise a healthy blush and straightening her sash before she at last pushed open the door.

She did not spot them immediately, her eyes scanning the colourful chaos of people before they finally came to rest on Simon's honey-colour head. The squire was sat talking with Anomen, Erick and two other men of Amnian colouring who she did not recognise, one round faced, an untidy mop of dark curls falling about it while his taller companion was rather elven in his features, though he was most definitely human, all high cheeks and sharp chin. Simon glanced back at her approach and suddenly the five men were all on their feet, Fritha feeling even smaller as she arrived at their table, Simon perhaps sensing her reluctance as he stepped forward to take her hand and lead her in graciously.

'Fritha, you look lovely -tell her how nice she looks, Anomen.'

'Fritha, I ah-'

'Ah, Erick, you're all over here,' interrupted a deep voice, Fritha turning to see a man stood behind her, tall and rather square of face, his black curly hair cropped close to his head, 'And this must be the Lady Fritha,' he continued, glancing down to her with a smile. 'Simon here has been singing your praises since breakfast.'

Fritha felt instantly caught out, glancing back at the now grinning squire as she hastened to refute the claims. 'Oh, Simon is too generous in his compliments.'

The man's smile broadened. 'Usually I would agree with you, but this time I think he has been right on the mark.' He took her hand politely, 'I am Diesveld, m'lady and this is my sister, Elsenda.'

He stepped aside to reveal a timid looking girl in a gown of deep green velvet that put Fritha in mind of some sort of opulent moss. She seemed a few years younger than herself, with rather hooded eyes and the same dark hair as her brother, though the length had tamed the curls somewhat, neat waves rippling to just past her shoulders. She looked about as uncomfortable as Fritha felt, the pair of them bobbing a curtsey in unison and mumbling, 'Well met'.

Simon smiled, stepping back to continue with the introductions.

'Lady Fritha and Lady Elsenda, this is Sir Tristan and Sir Marcin.' The two men nodded, Fritha only just given time to bob her curtsey when yet more people arrived behind her and she felt rather like she was drowning in that sea of smiling strangers. 'Oh and here are two more of our company,' announced Simon genially, 'Ladies, these fine gentlemen -and fellow squires- are William and Aiden.'

Fritha turned to greet two men of barely eighteen, the former tanned and blond and looking rather like Simon's younger brother, while the latter was more slight in his build with floppy black hair and a rather weak chin, a pretty girl of no more than seventeen summers at his side. Simon took her hand. 'And this must be the Lady Brigitte -Aiden speaks of you constantly, my lady.'

The brown-haired girl giggled behind her hand, ringlets trembling, William smiling as he pulled out a chair for her.

'Ah Simon, will you never tire of being so vilely charming? Oh, and Sadir asked us to tell you that he will be along later; I left him grooming Sir Gethan's horse.'

Simon nodded pompously. 'Ah, I am glad to hear it! Some of these squires are getting ideas _far_ above their ranks and need to be humbled with more mundane tasks. Right,' he continued with a grin, 'I think we are going to need some more chairs.'

And men were suddenly all bustling about her, moving chairs and pulling the nearest table closer so they could all sit together, Fritha stood with Elsenda and Brigitte feeling rather helpless and silly, and she was glad when Simon appeared at her shoulder.

'Here, Elsenda dear, have this seat next to your brother. And Fritha, please take my chair.'

Fritha sank gratefully down next to Anomen, the knight sending her an apologetic look in the cover of this surrounding activity.

'Your pardon, Fritha, had I known it would be like this, I would have met you at the theatre.'

Fritha forced a smile, shaking her head. 'It's fine, Anomen, I'm just a little overwhelmed is all- all these names and faces- but it's fine, I'm fine.'

Anomen frowned, though Erick forestalled whatever he had been about to say, the paladin smiling as he watched Simon directing the chaos.

'Look at him; the man is in his element. But how have you been, my lady? The last time we spoke, I fear we parted in less than favourable circumstances.' Erick dropped his voice slightly, his look grave, 'Did you have any troubles from those creatures?'

'Yes, but I am pleased to say they have passed, at least for now.'

'That is good to hear, my lady. Oh, and Hugo has arrived –Sir Hugo!'

Everyone had just got seated, but the men all stood again as another knight and his lady arrived at the table and Fritha rather hoped she was the last of them, all these ups and downs were making her dizzy. Simon was shaking hands with Sir Hugo, the knight quite a bit older than the rest of them, probably his late thirties by his appearance, his face ruddy beneath his thinning brown hair, as one who spends much time out of doors. His wife, Deorna, was of a much darker cast, olive skin just beginning to line about her eyes and mouth the only hint to her years, her black hair tidied away in a gold net set with pearls that picked up the golden accents on her deep red gown, the woman smiling regally as Simon bowed and kissed her hand.

And, at last, the three sat, prompting another round of introductions which Fritha was rather glad of, the girl appreciating the opportunity to be reminded of everyone's names.

'Right,' said Hugo, clapping his hands together enthusiastically with the air of a man who was used to taking charge, 'shall we get some drinks ordered?'

Simon nodded. 'I heard from one of the maids that they've a new batch of cocoa in, the boat from Maztica docked just this morning.'

'Oh, can we?' cried Brigitte, turning at once to her dark-haired sweetheart, 'I should love to try some.'

'Well-' Aiden faltered, looking rather caught out and Fritha was pretty sure she knew from where his hesitation stemmed; anything that had had to be imported from halfway across Toril was unlikely to be cheap and she doubted the squires of Order were left with much in the way of allowance once their necessities were paid for.

'Of course!' interrupted Simon, instantly catching the eye of a passing maid and subtly slipping more than enough coin for all of them onto her tray. 'Can we have a pot of cocoa here please, miss, enough for,' he paused to count them quickly, 'thirteen of us.'

The girl bobbed a curtsey and hurried off.

'So under what occasion are we gathered here, Simon?' asked Deorna, turning that majestic smile upon the squire once more and Fritha thought it looked rather affected up close.

'An occasion?' he repeated with a genial surprise, 'Goodness, do we need one?'

A round of polite laughter, Deorna smiling fondly as she continued.

'Ah, Simon, you always were such a card. I was speaking to your mother just the other day, she tells me your sisters are doing well; are neither of them out with you tonight?'

'Ah, no, my lady, my father feels that they are still perhaps a little young.'

'A pity, such nice girls and they would have certainly evened up the numbers. But it is nice to see _you_ out, Elsenda dear; we missed you at young Lydia's presentation.'

The girl made no reply, though the flush to her cheeks said more than enough.

'I fear we were otherwise engaged that evening,' explained Diesveld promptly, Deorna nodding graciously as she turned her attention to Fritha.

'And I do not believe we have met, my dear.'

'No, the Lady Fritha is new to the city and to our company,' provided Erick with a kind smile to the girl in question.

'I see. They introduced you as a friend of Sir Anomen's, yes? And what is it that brings you to our fair city?'

Fritha took a moment to answer her, trying to find the best way to phrase her reply. 'Well… I suppose you could say I am here on business.'

'Business? And what is it you do, my dear?'

'Well, I don't really have a trade per se,' she stalled, not really wanting to start the evening off on a falsehood. A mild frown was creasing Deorna's brow, the woman clearly about to press for further clarification on this, though she did not have the chance.

'The Lady Fritha is always too modest,' cut in Simon with an easy grin, 'I notice she neglects to mention the fact she owns the playhouse on the bridge.'

'Truly?' cried Elsenda, the first time she had spoken since they had sat down and none looked more surprised than she, the girl suddenly rigid in her chair as Fritha nodded mildly.

'Yes, you are interested in the theatre?'

'Yes, a little,' the girl mumbled to the table, already blushing fiercely.

'Come now, Elsenda,' Diesveld reproached gently, 'my sister has always been a most ardent enthusiast of the theatre, my lady.'

Fritha smiled kindly, still trying to catch her eye. 'I can arrange for some tickets to be sent to you and your brother for the opening night, if you would like. You can even come backstage and meet the cast.'

Elsenda glanced up at her offer, seeming to struggle a moment with her shyness before she was smiling, albeit tentatively. 'Yes, thank you, I should like that very much.'

Diesveld beamed.

'Ah and here we are,' announced Simon as the maid arrived at his side with a tall pot and a tray of cups. 'Thank you, miss.'

There was a lull over the table as the girl moved around them all, passing out cups and pouring out the steaming cocoa. Fritha eyed the cup before her: a fine white porcelain with a handle so small and ornate it seemed to be more for decoration than any real use. Indeed, the men had all ignored them in favour taking their cups casually about the bowl. Fortunate really, since the mere _thought_ of a dozen burly knights genteelly balancing their cups betwixt thumb and finger was enough to send Fritha scarlet with suppressed laughter, though she had noticed the few woman around her were doing just that and her amusement faded soon enough, all her concentration on lifting her cup without dropping it neatly into her lap. The liquid within was dark and unnervingly opaque, rather like it had just been scooped from a muddy puddle, though the smell more than made up for the appearance and Fritha found herself quite disappointed as she took that first sip. The taste was bitter and overly milky, a sickly sweetness rushing up as she continued to drink, lingering at the bottom of the cup where the sugar had been added and Fritha released belatedly she probably should have given it a stir before she began.

'And how do you like it then, Lady Brigitte?' asked Erick genially. The girl took another sip, smoothing her lips together thoughtfully.

'It is bitter, but in the same instance sweet.'

'Like love,' Fritha quipped absently into her cup, glancing up as a ripple of polite laughter travelled the table.

'Oh, Anomen,' chuckled Deorna, 'your friend is quite the delight; how did the two of you meet?'

Anomen glanced to her, looking uncertain and more than a little concerned and Fritha was rather touched he understood she might feel awkward, though there was nothing they could really do. She shrugged imperceptibly to him; the truth will out as the sages said, the pair of them turning back to Deorna for Fritha to answer, 'I am part of the same mercenary company as Anomen.'

The woman raised a well-plucked eyebrow. 'Oh, I see, a soldier _and_ an actress; you are a young woman of many talents. Are you hoping to gain entrance to the Order as our Anomen has?'

Fritha swallowed, the conversation was taking a route she would have rather avoided.

'Ah, well, no… I just need to raise some coin.'

'Coin?' came Brigitte innocently and Fritha suspected she had never had to earn the stuff, 'Why, whatever for?'

Fritha placed a serene smile over her discomfited heart. 'Well, they say a girl can never have too many gowns.'

More polite laughter, Simon glancing back sharply at the sound of the door.

'Ho Sadir, over here!' he called, perhaps a little more enthusiastically than was strictly needed, the squire standing to welcome his friend and present him to the table. He was a handsome young man of about Simon's age and of Calimshite descent, his skin close in colour to the cocoa that still lingered in her cup, the man's dark eyes gleaming in the lamplight and Fritha noticed both Brigitte and even Deorna straighten slightly under the broad smile as the introductions passed to them.

Anomen sent her a wary glance under this distraction, still something of the anxious to his eyes and Fritha smiled, puffing out her cheeks slightly and exhaling in a hint at the relief she felt. The knight grinned, looking unexpectedly pleased, the gesture lingering as he turned back to the table.

And there was much there to keep him smiling, Simon and Sadir keeping the table entertained between them, the pair a foil to one another's wit and it was not long after that the musicians struck up and the tables all but cleared, those with partners taking their places on the floor while those without lined the edges in pairs and small groups to watch and converse.

Fritha did not much feel like dancing that night though, and after the first few rounds she and the similarly reluctant Elsenda had stolen away and secured a place on the edge of the floor half hidden behind a pedestal and the feathery-leaved potted fern atop it, the girls talking politely about the dances and the number of couples.

That was until but moment ago, when Sir Tristan had arrived to ask for a dance, Elsenda led away to the floor looking stricken. Fritha smiled, watching the girl, rigid in her posture as she moved through the steps of the bransle they were playing, her eyes fixed on some point just above Tristan's left ear and ignoring the man's valiant attempts at conversation. The tavern was busy and Fritha felt quite invisible stood there watching the couples about the room dance and talk; the subtle flirtations, the unspoken rivalries, the girl rather enjoying her evening as a blossoming little wallflower, though it seemed she was not to be alone for much longer. Anomen had either been looking for her, or had perhaps just noticed Elsenda's departure, the man spotting her alone and excusing himself from Sir Marcin's company on the opposite side of the room to move towards her, stopping only to collect some drinks from the tray the maid had just arrived with, the man passing her a cup of wine with a smile as he arrived.

'Are you enjoying your evening, my lady?'

'It has been pleasant enough so far.'

He raised an eyebrow, clearly hearing this stiffly formal echo of _his_ customary response. Fritha grinned at him and together they laughed.

'Ah, Anomen, I would not have thought to see _you_ in the midst of such merriment.'

Anomen turned, seemingly confused himself, stepping back to reveal a tall fair-haired man with dark narrow eyes who Fritha found strangely familiar.

'Cadril?' exclaimed Anomen.

'Why, indeed, Anomen,' the man confirmed smoothly, 'you look surprised. Sir Rowel and I met the Lady Irlana as she and her friends were leaving the Order and she invited us along as well. And who is this,' he continued, turning to her with measured smile, 'you must introduce me.'

'Cadril, this is the Lady Fritha of Candlekeep,' Anomen announced importantly, his eyes fixed on the knight. Fritha raised an eyebrow slightly at this rather formal introduction, but said nothing. 'Fritha, this is Sir Cadril.'

Cadril smiled, scooping up her hand and placing a kiss upon the back with a practiced movement that made it seem more perfunctory than attentive.

'My lady, it is such a pleasure to finally meet you, after having heard you spoken of so much, and so highly too.'

'My thanks, Sir Cadril, though please call me Fritha.'

She smiled and Cadril watched her in silence for a moment before returning it, the first _genuine_ sentiment Fritha felt she had witnessed from him.

'If you will but call me Cadril, m'lady,' he continued amiably, seemingly much more himself as he released her hand, 'Indeed, though the first instance we have met, this is not the first time I have seen you. I believe it was about a month ago now, you were calling to Anomen here from a window of an inn over in the slums.'

Fritha beamed, finally placing the man.

'Oh, yes! It was _you_ Anomen was speaking to, was it? Oh, you should have heard the telling off I got for that,' she laughed brightly, glancing to the man at her side, 'What was it you called me, Anomen? An old fishwife?'

Anomen said nothing, his posture suddenly stiff. Cadril raised an eyebrow, smiling as he turned back to Fritha.

'Ah, well, Anomen has always enjoyed a reputation about the Order as man of charm.'

'And, of course, you know Lady Irlana,' Anomen interrupted through gritted teeth as the pretty young woman herself appeared at his side in a pale yellow gown that brought out the gold in her hair, Simon at her arm, 'it is a pleasure to see you as always, my lady.'

The young paladin smiled warmly. 'A good evening to you also, Anomen -and the Lady Fritha is here as well,' she greeted, stepping forward to take both her hands in her own, 'how lovely it is to meet with you once more.'

Fritha beamed. 'Irlana, it is nice to see you too -I didn't know you would be coming.'

'Of course -what lady could resist an invitation from the Squire Simon?' Irlana smiled, the man himself looking rather pleased by their teasing as the two girls giggled merrily.

'In fact, might I borrow you a moment, Fritha?' Irlana continued, glancing politely to the men surrounding her as though she expected them to protest, 'I believe we have a mutual acquaintance of whom I should like to ask you.'

Fritha nodded, clearly bewildered as the woman linked an arm through hers. And Anomen watched as the young paladin led her away to the far corner, away from the dancers and the tables to talk, Fritha hiding an astounded smile behind a hand as Irlana chattered earnestly at her ear, before the three men seemed to realised as one that not one of them had spoken since the girls had left, Simon the first to break the silence.

'Well, that was all very curious. I wonder what secret has so enthralled them both…' he considered aloud before clearly deeming it none of his concern, the man shaking himself and turning back to continue carelessly 'Well, don't let us keep you, Cadril.'

Cadril sent the shorter man a cool look but took the hint, nodding curtly as he, too, took his leave. Simon sighed tersely, turning back to Anomen with a frown.

'What is _he_ doing here?'

'He said Irlana invited him.'

The pair glanced back to the two women, both pouring over a small square of parchment, pink as they giggled lightly.

'Ah, I recognise that look,' said Simon turning back to send him a wise nod, 'a love letter. Well at least _someone_ has got his act together.'

'And what is _that_ supposed to mean?' Anomen demanded archly. Simon sent him a stern frown.

'This is the first time you have spoken to Fritha all evening.'

'No, it-' he began though Simon would not let him finish the defence.

'You know what I speak of, Anomen; you complimented every lady of our company with some gesture or another, except for her.'

'I most certainly _have_-'

'_No,_' Simon interrupted again with a maddeningly calm air, 'you have shown her _friendship_, which is very important, I agree, but it does nothing to impart to her the depth of the feelings you hold. I understand it is difficult, that it feels awkward when you are already friends and that Fritha will likely find it all very bemusing in the outset, but she will not know until you show her.' Simon sighed, turning back to them, the two women now joined by Elsenda and Tristan. 'Look at her, so bright and amiable; I haven't seen Elsenda talking so much to anyone outside her own family.'

Anomen glanced to them, Tristan now talking with Irlana while the two girls watched the dancers in reserved silence. He turned back to Simon with a pointed look which his friend ignored.

'Anomen, Fritha is a nice girl, she deserves to be courted properly and if you won't, I have no doubt that someone else will before long.'

And with that Simon turned to leave as well, joining those in the far corner, the whole group lost to laughter but a moment later and Anomen wished, and not for the first time in his life, that he could be as gregarious as his friend.

xxx

Aerie stood staring blankly at the ghostly outline of a girl she almost didn't recognise reflected in the black glass before her, the lamplight of the room making the night outside the window all the blacker and she imagined Fritha somewhere out in that darkened city, in a tavern warm with laughter, a whole world away.

Behind her, Aerie heard Haer'Dalis shut the door and she turned from the window to sink onto the bed, the covers still crumpled from where they had slept the day away.

They had stayed at the table for longer than she would have expected him to wish to be surrounded by the mild talk of the others, Aerie sat, letting their voices drift around her in inharmonious song as she pushed the food about her dish. But at last he had suggested they retire and there they were, Haer'Dalis flitting, moth-like and erratic, about her room, stoking the fire and drawing the curtains while she sat motionless on the bed they had not long left. The fact they had slept all day had been the only way she had managed to get through it. Lain in perpetual dusk of that room, curtains drawn against the world, her own mind hovering in the twilight between sleep and waking, because despite what Haer'Dalis had promised that morning, despite the pain she felt when she considered what would have to be done, in her heart of hearts Aerie had at last given up.

Haer'Dalis had paused at the window, curtain in hand and he made to draw them, the man gazing out over the darkened city as she just had.

'Ah, I feel better for our sleep, but I wonder now if we will merely find that rest eludes us later. If you are the same, perhaps we can walk out for a bit, the night air might do us good, my do- ah, Aerie,' he corrected hastily, glancing back to check on her reaction to this slip, their argument still fresh in his mind it seemed.

Aerie said nothing though, running a distracted finger over the fraying embroidery at her cuff. The meal they had shared, his presence there before her: none of it felt real, as though they were merely filling in time until the inevitable confrontation with reality. Haer'Dalis turned to face her with a melancholy sigh; the moment was approaching.

'Aerie, what is wrong, my love? You have been the same all day, so weary and cheerless. I understand you are likely still injured from my words last night but-'

'No, it's not that,' she cut in, forestalling the unbearable contrition before she completely broke down, 'I- I just don't think I can do it anymore.'

'Do what?'

She shrugged dejectedly. 'This… us… You were right last night; I haven't accepted the loss of my wings, not truly. I have tried to continue on, earth-bound, trying to heal the world around me while ignoring the pain I still feel inside, hoping that it will just fade over time. But it won't, and I just don't see how it can if I am with someone who thinks such things are to be accepted and celebrated and- and _encouraged_… I just think I need to be alone for a while, to figure things out by myself… '

Haer'Dalis was frowning though it did not hide the suddenly panicked look to his eyes.

'I am glad that have taken this step forward towards ridding yourself of your pain, but must we be apart for you to accomplish it? Please, Aerie, not now when I am finally beginning to understand. I know I was recalcitrant before but I would welcome your aid now if you will still give it and I shall help you if I am able and we can continue on together… that is, if you still wish to.' He crouched before her, fixing her with a piercing gaze to ask, 'Do you love me?'

She turned away, unable to stand the desperation to his eyes. 'It's not that simple.'

'No, Aerie,' he countered firmly, 'it _is_ that simple. Tell me now: do you love me?'

She stared back at him, past him to all the joys and the miseries those last few months had brought her. She could feel it inside her: that small grain of love, as bright and fierce as it had ever been. But it was crushed under the weight of the uncertainty and the poisonous jealously and their endless quarrelling over differences that would never be resolved.

_Even love ends, my dove…_ his voice echoed behind her eyes and she just could not bear the thought of struggling on when she knew it was all due to come to nothing anyway, because how could it be otherwise when he believed in such things?

Aerie swallowed, tears spilling down her face, and told herself over and over it was not a lie as she whispered, 'No.'

Haer'Dalis blinked slowly, an emptiness to his expression as he drew back from her to stand once more and Aerie dropped her face again, whispering fervently into her lap. 'I'm sorry, Haer'Dalis. I'm so sorry.'

'I see,' he said eventually, his voice wavering and hoarse, lost in a way she had not heard before, 'I… must think on this. Please, excuse me.'

And Aerie did not raise her face again until she heard the door click shut.

xxx

They stayed at the Mithrest until the moon was high and the minstrels had played their last, the crowds of the tavern thinning as the band began to pack up and their own group had decided to leave as well.

They were outside now, the windows of the inn behind them casting panes of warm yellow light across the terrace as they gathered there, making their farewells as the group parted ways and Anomen let his attention drift to Fritha. The girl was stood slightly apart from the others on the narrow wall that ran along the edge of the terrace, seemingly transfixed by the arc of star dusted sky above them though she turned to him as he approached, stepping down from her perch with a smile.

'Is everyone leaving now?'

'Well, yes, most are, though Simon has yet to admit defeat; he says he knows of a tavern over in the north west of the city that makes the high boast of "music until the dawn" –though we do not have to attend,' he added quickly, considering the girl may wish to end the night there as well.

'No, I am happy to go –oh, unless you are tired,' she offered just as hastily.

'No, no, I am fine, my la- ah, Fritha,' he corrected, remembering Simon's lecture from earlier and feeling himself going red as the girl sent him a suspicious look, as though trying to work out why, after nigh on three months of pestering him to use her name, he had suddenly decided to heed her.

'Fritha,' came a timid voice behind him and he turned to see Elsenda, her brother stood reassuringly behind her, the girl pink in the glow of the windows as she made to continue, 'Fritha, ah, Simon plans to move on to a tavern in the Government District; ar-are you attending with him?'

Fritha nodded, glancing briefly to Anomen before she answered, 'Er, yes, I think so,' Elsenda immediately turning a pleading look on the man at her side.

'Brother?'

Diesveld smiled kindly. 'Ah, and I suppose you will now wish to attend as well, then? Why not? I've nothing pressing on tomorrow.'

Elsenda smiled, she and Fritha moving away from them a pace, as Tristan and Marcin came to make their farewells.

'Are you two heading off now then?' Diesveld confirmed, Tristan nodding, a frown creasing his tanned forehead.

'Yes, why, aren't you?'

'No, we plan to stay on for a bit.'

Tristan looked surprised, eyes glancing back to rest for the briefest instant on Elsenda, the girl now stood with the Fritha on the wall, the pair smiling as they returned to her previous star-gazing.

'Oh, really? Ah, I might stay out for a touch longer too.'

It was Marcin's turn to frown.

'But you were only just this moment complaining about how tired-ah!'

Anomen snorted, trying to hide it in a cough as Marcin send Tristan a scowl, sullenly rubbing the spot where the elbow had caught his ribs, though any reproach was forestalled.

'Come on, you lot,' shouted a voice beneath them, Simon already stood at the foot of the steps below them, Erick next to him and looking as though he was already beginning to regret not returning to the Order when he had the chance. And the group finally parted ways, those who had yet to do so making their farewells and heading back to their homes or dormitories, while they, _that stalwart few_, as Simon had titled them, headed for the nearest bridge.

Simon, of course, led the way, his fellow squires, William and Sadir, either side of him, the three laughing and keeping up a constant stream of banter as they went. Erick was following them in a statelier manner with Tristan, Diesveld and his young sister, Elsenda glancing back to send the girl next to Anomen a smile, he and Fritha bringing up the rear alone.

Anomen looked to her too, Simon's most recent admonishments still haunting him, Fritha humming absently to her self as she swung her long skirts.

'What are you doing, my lady?'

She glanced to him, seemingly surprised. 'Sorry? Oh nothing, just trying to delight in one of the 'eternal joys'; it's rare I get to wear anything like this, though my appreciation is not really coming tonight.'

She sighed slightly, smoothing out her skirts and moving to button closed her long woollen jacket as a cool breeze stirred about them. Anomen smiled, recalling his surprise when she had first arrived looking fair and warm in the deep yellow gown.

'Yes, I noticed you had dressed for the occasion.'

She shrugged. 'I thought it was worth it since we were dancing and I didn't want to shame you in front of your friends.'

Anomen stumbled over his words in his haste to correct her.

'Fritha, I- I would never be ashamed of you! You could have arrived in –in your chain for all I care on the matter.'

Anomen felt his insides groan; that had not come out as he'd wanted, but Fritha just laughed lightly anyway.

'Calm down, Anomen, I was only teasing. To be honest, I was at the theatre just in my tunic and my amber sash, but when I mentioned I was going dancing, Jenna wouldn't let me leave without insisting I borrow a dress from her. It's a touch too big but my sash hides it. Of course, my sash is not quite the right colour; it's too similar in shade to the dress especially with my hair the colour it is. I should have a nice light green one or something, but…' she trailed off, such matters hardly anything to fret over it seemed, Anomen hesitating a moment, his heart in his throat, before-

'You look like an autumn leaf.'

Fritha shot him an incredulous look and immediately burst out laughing.

'You should drink wine more often, Anomen, it clearly does you good.'

'Don't-' he said quietly, feeling foolish, 'Don't laugh; I meant it kindly.'

But the girl just beamed, slapping his arm heartily. 'So did I, Anomen, so did I. And Jenna and the others seemed to think I look well enough. To be honest, I don't think Iltheia would have let me leave if she had not thought so; she spent the _longest_ time fussing over my hair -and none too gently either,' Fritha added with a wince, moving a hand up to gingerly pat the back and Anomen laughed, feeling more at ease as they returned to their familiar camaraderie.

'You look very nice, Fritha, and I should have said so earlier, though I notice a certain _ornament_ is made conspicuous by its absence.'

He let his gaze flick pointedly down to where her sword was so often hanging at her hip, Fritha holding up her hands to forestall this lecture.

'There was no way I was wearing a sword with a _dress! _But do not be too quick to judge for not even _Jaheira_ should have any grounds to complain this evening. Higgold, it seems is of your minds, for he got very fatherly when he found out I was leaving my sword in the dressing room and demanded Marcus and Davith walk me all the way to the Promenade. And I am not entirely unarmed either; I've my dagger in my coat pocket, though if we meet any trouble you'll have to do the all fighting on your own, you understand; I'll just stand behind you and shout encouragements, because I _can't_ risk spoiling Jenna's dress.'

Anomen laughed and bowed his head. 'As you would have it, my lady; I shall endeavour to serve.'

She smiled, edging closer to him to make more room on the narrow street as a group of men passed them, no doubt headed for the Promenade they had just left, the men laughing and calling to each other as they went.

'Fritha?'

They both halted at the voice, turning to the alleyway they had just passed, the dark shape of a man stood at its mouth. The stranger took another step forward, the lamplight falling on a tall pale man with an elegantly dishevelled crop of black hair and for one irrational moment Anomen feared the vampires had already arrived for their retribution, when Fritha's eyes fell upon him and her face seemed to light from within.

'Eriyn?' she breathed, taking a step towards the stranger, frowning as though she expected to be mistaken, a smile suddenly lighting her face when she realised she was not.

'Gods, Wren!' she shrieked, flinging her arms round his neck, looking happier than Anomen had ever seen her, the man laughing as he patted her back affectionately, the pair still beaming as they parted, the stranger holding her shoulders as he looked her up and down.

'Fritha, look at you, all dressed up; you look beautiful!'

'Oh, never mind about that,' she dismissed with a laugh, her eyes still shining, 'I thought you were keeping all your trading to waters around Waterdeep now the weather's turned?'

'Well, we managed to sell all the cargo in the Gate, so the Captain wants to make one more run to Calimport before the winter really sets in.'

'That's wonderful! So, how long are you docked here?'

'Ah, there's the catch. Only for tonight.'

Fritha's face fell and Anomen felt his stomach follow.

'Which is why I am here,' Eriyn continued, clearly trying to cheer her, 'I just visited the Coronet in hopes that you would be there, but, of course, I was out of luck and I was just on my way back to the docks, when…' He trailed off, smiling down at her with a dazed disbelief as though he could not quite believe his good fortune. 'But I can see you are already engaged and in far finer company than I can provide,' he added, at last stepping back from her to politely greet the crowd that had gathered. 'Good evening, Sirs,' he nodded to Elsenda, 'm'lady.'

Fritha seemed to awake from a dream, the girl flustered and full of smiles. 'Oh, where are my manners? Eriyn, this is Sir Anomen, Sir Erick, Sir Tristan, Sir Diesveld and his sister, the Lady Elsenda. Ah, everyone, this is Eriyn, an old friend of mine.'

Murmurs of 'Well met' were cut short as a loud voice echoed back to them.

'Come on, Erick!' shouted Simon, the man and his friends now at the end of the street and virtually out of sight, 'What is the delay?'

Eriyn turned back to Fritha, eyes reluctant behind the smile. 'Well, I should leave you to evening.'

Fritha nodded, as one who was doing her best not to look utterly forlorn.

'Oh, yes…'

Anomen sighed inwardly, glad his own reluctance was not reflected in his voice.

'You would be welcome to join us, of course.'

Eriyn frowned, but even that could not hide the hopeful cast to his eyes.

'Oh, I should not want to impose.'

'No, we would be glad to have you join our company, would we not?' Anomen assured, turning to get the agreement of someone who could actually put some sincerity behind the offer. He was in luck.

'Why, yes,' enthused Diesveld amiably, 'any friend of the Lady Fritha's.'

Eriyn smiled and nodded politely. 'Well, I would be honoured to accept then.'

'Come,' said Erick, 'we had better set off again before Simon tires of waiting and leaves us stranded.'

And the group continued on, Fritha falling into step with Eriyn looking delighted as they immediately set to catching up, Erick falling back to bring up the rear with Anomen, the paladin sighing deeply.

'You are a saint.'

xxx

'You are an idiot!'

Anomen sighed tersely, letting his eyes take in the unfamiliar surroundings of a tavern he had not even known existed until that night, anything to spare him from having to look at Simon's face and seeing his own frustrations mirrored there. It was similar enough to the Mithrest in décor, the only real difference being the group of minstrels that took up permanent residence there, the troupe currently playing a merry jig, much to the delight of the tavern's many patrons. The place was busy despite the hour and the rather remote location, set in a north-western quarter of the city on the plateau that housed the majority of Athkatla's nobles, the tavern on one side of a grand piazza that Anomen knew was popular for its views over the harbour.

The knight glanced back in time to see his friend shake his head despairingly.

'Oh, Anomen, you are _hopeless_. You arrange this whole evening for her and when you finally seem to be opening up to the girl, you then decide to invite along a rival!'

'Do not start at me with that, Simon. What was I supposed to do? Apart from being exceedingly impolite to have just sent him on his way, Fritha clearly wanted him here.'

Simon sighed, but thankfully said no more, turning instead to cast a critical look over the man who had been the cause of this uproar, Eriyn sat at a table with the rest of their company holding court, Fritha no less than glowing as he turned to speak to her. At his side, Simon sighed again sending Anomen a painfully sympathetic look.

'Do you know who he is yet?'

'Merely an old friend of Fritha's. They met in Candlekeep some years back and then more recently in the Coronet a month or so ago now.'

Anomen turned back to the table, both Fritha and Diesveld beaming as the sailor managed to tempt a laugh from Elsenda. Simon shook his head.

'The man is a god. Come on, sulking over here won't help,' he continued turning to head back to the others, Anomen having to bite his tongue against reminding the squire that it was _he_ who had dragged him away from the table in the first place.

They arrived to another round of laughter, Fritha still beaming as she glanced up to greet them.

'Ah, Anomen and Simon, Eriyn was just telling us the funniest story.'

Anomen forced a smile. 'So we gathered.'

'Ah, it was not so droll…' the sailor dismissed easily, eyes flicking slyly to the girl next to him as he continued, 'and I believe Fritha was about to regale us with the tale of how her last night about the city ended up with her feigning a sprained ankle so as to avoid a rather _insistent_ suitor who was pressing her for a dance.'

'Wren!'

The table laughed as Fritha flushed scarlet and gently struck his arm in punishment, and Anomen almost winced, the pair sat so mildly side by side, teasing each other like brother and sister.

'Do you spend many evenings about the city, m'lady?' questioned William, still grinning.

'I have been recently,' she answered evasively.

'And how does this night compare?'

'Hmm, well, it is quite a bit more civilised than I am used to.'

The two squires shared a look, Sadir's dark eyes shining with this hint at mischief as he pressed, 'And which do you prefer, my lady?'

Fritha paused, smilingly slightly. 'I've time for both.'

William and Sadir laughed raucously, Elsenda joining them though much more uncertainly, hiding the gesture behind her hand as though she was not sure whether she should be finding such things amusing.

'Well, shall we get another round of drinks in?' asked Simon, his friend Sadir nodding once as he rose as well.

'Yes, what was it? A pitcher of the Sembian white and one of the mead? -And we should get a flask of the warmed rice wine they serve here too.'

'Simon, go easy on that rice wine,' Erick called after them, 'you never could hold your spirits.'

'Of course,' the squire assured him, waving a casual hand that served only to emphasise that this warning would be duly ignored. Erick frowned and clearly decided his place was at the bar as he rose hastily to follow the pair, Eriyn smiling as he watched them leave.

'They could be brothers.'

Diesveld gave a genial bark of laughter. 'Ha! You are not the first to have commented on such; Simon certainly _ignores _him like he is family.'

'I hope you pay more heed to your brother, m'lady,' Eriyn teased the girl across from him, Elsenda laughing shyly, Tristan seemingly disgruntled by the scene.

'Ho, William!'

The table glanced up at this address, the squire himself standing, a smile suddenly lighting his face as he sent a wave to the large group of young men and women who were gathered about a cluster of tables next to the dance floor.

'Oh, it's Veren and Lee,' William explained for the benefit of those still seated, 'They said they would be out tonight.'

'Squire Veren?' repeated Elsenda, the girl turning in her chair to get a view of him as well.

'Yes, I believe you know his sister, do you not?'

'Well, yes, if it is the same…'

William smiled, taking her hesitance in his stride. 'Truly? Well, I can introduce you if you like.'

'Well, ah…' Elsenda faltered glancing to her brother, though it was not he who stepped in to her _rescue_.

'Come, my lady, I shall escort you, if you wish,' came Tristan, the man already on his feet, holding an arm out to her and making the _offer _a little too insistent to be truly considered such, Elsenda looking flustered as she rose as well, muttering her thanks as she let the knight lead her after William.

Diesveld watched the three go, glancing back to the bar to where Simon and Sadir were clearly finding something amusing, Erick's face a picture of weary frustration as he shook his head.

'I think I will go and lend Erick some moral support,' Diesveld chuckled, rising as well to leave Anomen, Eriyn and Fritha alone at the table.

'So,' began Fritha, turning to Eriyn eagerly, 'were you docked for long in the Gate?'

'A couple of days longer than the captain would have liked,' the sailor laughed. 'A storm was moving down the coast from the North and it would have been too risky to put out until it had passed. It is a shame it could not have struck a little further south; I would have much preferred a few days trapped _here_. I would put in a quick prayer at the shrine to Umberlee, though I fear she would keep the seas calm just to spite me.'

'Then do!' cried Fritha with all seriousness, 'I do not like to think of you sailing in bad weather.'

Eriyn sent her a kind smile.

'Ah, our ship is a fine one and our crew finer still; you need not worry, we have weathered far worse. In fact, it sounds as though it is _I_ who should be worrying about you,' he frowned, Fritha drawing back looking somewhat uncertain until he continued with a grin, 'gadding all over the city causing trouble -I hope you are keeping an eye on her,' he added to Anomen with mock severity.

'As much as any man could,' Anomen muttered in quiet reply, Fritha sending him a sunny smile as she laughed, 'Oh, Anomen isn't the one who has been leading me astray.'

Eriyn smiled, hooking a stray curl behind her ear with a familiarity that Anomen would not have dared to venture.

'I'm glad to hear it.'

The pair shared a smile and Anomen was about to speak, no idea yet of what he would say, driven only by his need to interrupt the unbearable simple sincerity of it all, though he was saved the embarrassment. A shadow fell over the table as the maid appeared, a large pitcher in each hand, a glance behind confirming that Simon and Sadir had been tempted over to the more lively grouping of tables with William and his friends, Erick and Diesveld caught in a more decorous discourse as they lingered together at the bar.

Fritha nodded her thanks as the girl bobbed a curtsey, turning to the man at her side.

'You were drinking wine, were you not, Eriyn?'

'Oh, ah, yes,' he confirmed, she and him both reaching for the pitcher only to stop as they each saw the other, hesitating a moment before they shared a laugh.

'Wren!' Fritha scolded, gently batting his hand away and taking up the jug to fill first his, then Anomen's and finally her own cup.

Anomen raised it instantly to his lips, glad for the solid distraction of it, the wine within pale as white vinegar and almost as sour, even for the Sembian grapes, Fritha coughing slightly as she drew that first sip.

'How is it?' Anomen asked, the girl smiling as she admitted, 'A little sharp, but not to worry.'

'Here,' came Eriyn, gently taking her cup to mix a little of the mead in with it. 'There, how do you like it now?'

'Much better,' she said, smiling as she tasted it, though Anomen considered from her look she would have likely said the same had he just handed her poison. 'So, how was the Gate?'

'Ah, as pleasant as ever it is. The people are a whole lot friendlier now the threat of war has passed.'

Anomen smiled, his eyes falling fondly onto the girl next to him. 'Yes, both Baldur's Gate and Amn owe much to those heroes who risked their lives in order to expose the Iron Throne's treachery.'

'Ah, yes, I suppose that is so,' Eriyn agreed, clearly nonplussed as to why he was bringing such observances into the conversation. Fritha flushed pink, the girl suddenly fussing over topping up her cup and Anomen could hardly believe it as he realised the girl must not have told the sailor anything of her part in the city's rescue.

'A war along the Sword Coast would have claimed many innocent lives,' the knight continued, trying to make some justification for his words though his efforts were wasted.

'So where did you visit about the city?' came Fritha abruptly, Eriyn smiling lightly through his obvious confusion.

'Well, most of the men just found a nearby tavern for the duration, though a few snuck off to Madam Rosalind's salon to waste their coin in even great haste. By Waukeen, you'd think they were allergic to the stuff the rate at which they dispose of it! I stayed close to the ship though; the Captain needed my help logging and distributing the cargo.'

'Oh, that's a shame. Though if you ever _do_ manage to get to the salon and while there meet a man named Niklos…' Fritha paused to take another sip, her face dipped in the slyest hint at coy hesitation. A grin was slowly spreading across Eriyn's face.

'…_Yes?_'

'Then punch him in the nose from me for he is surely owed it!'

'Fritha!' the sailor exclaimed, roaring with laughter as the girl continued her tirade.

'Making me sit in that bloody cellar for three hours while he flirted with Imoen –Oh, and if Urtis is there with him, you can tell him I said hello,' she added in mild afterthought.

'Oh Fritha,' Eriyn sighed, still grinning widely. 'Well, it seems my first trip to Rosalind's will likely be my last too, since I will be barred for brawling soon afterwards.'

Fritha waved a dismissive hand. 'Ah, that would be no loss; contrary to its scandalous reputation, is _very_ dull -though I will admit it offers entertainments I probably couldn't appreciate.'

Eriyn laughed. 'I will have to take you about Waterdeep if you are ever in the city; the City of Splendour holds many diversions. Perhaps we can get you the same reputation for carousing there, as you seem to have earned here. -Oh, mind your elbow,' he cautioned, catching her arm as she nearly placed it into a small puddle of mead that some careless hand had spilled on the table, the man producing a surprisingly clean handkerchief from his coat and not releasing her until he had deftly mopped up the last of it, Fritha laughing as she exclaimed, 'Oh, thank goodness you noticed; this dress isn't mine.'

'Truly? Does the owner know you've it on?'

'Wren!' she laughed, though another interrupted her before the girl could make her retort, and the three turned to see William before them, others of their company already on the floor behind him, 'My lady, will you come and join us in a dance? We are short on ladies.'

Fritha rolled her eyes. 'Well, since you put it so _nicely_.'

And she excused herself with a smile, moving to join Elsenda as those milling about the dance floor took their places, forming two long rows, Fritha opposite a man Anomen did not recognise as they made their opening obeisance. The dance was a lively one with many turns, Eriyn smiling as he watched Fritha laugh and send him a wave on the second pass.

'So,' began Anomen, as much to draw the man's attention from her as break the awkward silence the girl had left them in, 'Fritha mentioned you are first mate on a trading vessel.'

Eriyn nodded once, grinning genially. 'Yes, that is so. The Calistoriaus out of Waterdeep.'

'So that is were you make your home? Waterdeep?'

'Well, I have lodgings there, though nothing permanent. I spend most of my time aboard ship.'

'You must spend most of your life at sea,' Anomen said, adding pointedly, 'Not the most stable of existences.'

But the sailor merely nodded. 'Yes, it can be difficult. But what of you, sir? I hear you are a knight of the Radiant Heart; Fritha is fortunate to have the services of one such as yourself in her company.'

'Oh, well,' Anomen faltered, not really sure what to say to such a statement, especially since he had done nothing so far but intimate at the man's shortfalls as a suitor. Eriyn smiled slightly, as though he understood his confusion.

'I know her life is more dangerous than she would have me believe, raising this sum for her friend's rescue. It is not something I am happy about, of course, but it is not something I am in a position to change either and so I find I can merely be glad that if she must journey such a path, she has companions such as yourself to walk it with her.'

Eriyn turned back to the dance floor and Anomen followed his gaze to where Fritha was dancing, the girl chatting brightly with her partner as they went. 'She looks older than when we last met. Not in the face,' the sailor hastened to add, chuckling absently to himself, 'she is still the prettiest girl in Athkatla. But something in her eyes has changed. Your search for her friend, it doesn't go well, does it?'

'Ah, no,' Anomen answered shortly, unaware how much of _that_ Fritha had divulged to the sailor either, 'she was made an offer of Imoen's retrieval by another group not long past, but the price was too high.'

Eriyn took a long drink of wine, shaking his head as he set the cup back on the table. 'The Gods are cruel.'

The dissent was on his lips that very instant, years in the seminary and then the temple both instructing him in the strict philosophy that the Gods were beyond the judgement of mere mortals, the reasons for Their actions veiled and subtle, based on factors men could never hope to understand. But in that moment, Anomen was not sure he believed it anyway. He sighed and took a long draft of the bitter wine.

'Yes, They can be.'

Fritha sent her partner, a man of William's acquaintance whom she did not know, a smile as he took her hand and led her in a turn. Truth be told, she had wanted to quit the floor after the last song, but her leaving was made awkward by the fact her doing so would have forced her partner to leave as well and Fritha did not think it fair that her pleasure be a source of someone else's disappointment and stuck with it. Her patience finally was rewarded at the end of that song, a group of girls returning to their company from where they had been taking a turn of the room and Fritha immediately excused herself, a voice calling out over the din the moment she set foot from the dance floor. Simon was sat with Sadir at a table of their own just to the edge of the floor, the man beckoning her across with a smile, his voice affectedly melodious as he called to her.

'Sweet Fritha; prithee come here, m'lady, and grace us with your company.'

Fritha felt the smile already pulling at her mouth, tripping over to their table and gathering up her skirts to bob a demur curtsey. 'I come as you ask, gentle Simon.'

The two squires roared with triumphant laughter that their game had been taken up, Simon turning to his friend to exclaim, 'Ha! I told you she was perfect, did I not?'

Sadir nodded, his teeth a flash of white against coffee-coloured skin as he grinned. 'You did indeed.'

Fritha smiled as well, sinking to the chair opposite them.

'Well, thank you both, though I think _perfect_ might be stretching the truth a bit.'

'Nonsense,' dismissed Simon, 'We Lathandites strive for perfection in ourselves, so we know when we have found it in another.'

Fritha laughed, feeling rather caught out by such earnest compliments; Salvanus had _nothing_ on these two.

'Good grief, I can see you two being popular with the young ladies of this city.'

'Ah, would _that_ were true,' sighed Simon dolefully. Sadir snorted.

'Speak for yourself.'

Simon threw a camaradic arm about his friend's shoulders and neatly cuffed the back of his head, the squire's other hand already about the tall narrow flask of rice wine that was on the tray before them and filling three of the four small porcelain cups it had arrived with.

'Come, Fritha, drink a toast with us. To bright dawns and new beginnings!'

They emptied their cups in unison, Sadir catching up the flask as soon they were back on the table.

'To glorious quests and fair damsels!'

Fritha laughed, the rice wine of the second toast warming all the way down to her stomach, the girl feeling rather giddy as she took the flask Sadir was proffering her and filled their waiting cups.

'To clear skies for the next tenday,' she pledged to the rafters, the three laughing as they sank their wine.

'To- oh,' Simon faltered, the still upturned flask in his hand as he went to pour another round and barely got one cup filled.

'I'll go and fetch another flask in,' offered Sadir, the man already on his feet and Simon moved into his empty chair to close the gap between them.

'Goodness,' Fritha sighed, fanning her flushed face with a hand, 'I really must slow down or poor Anomen will be carrying back to the Coronet.'

Simon grinned broadly. 'I am sure he would not mind such a task.'

Fritha felt herself smiling, the image of it suddenly clear behind her eyes, Anomen hefting her in his arms, struggling to carry her deadweight as she lolled and groaned. _Anomen… Anomen, I think I'm going to be sick…_

Fritha started back to find her smile had widened to a grin, Simon watching her with an amused look.

'_Yes_… I think you are envisaging a different scenario as to me, Simon.'

The squire laughed loudly. 'Ah, such blithely-borne expediency. You remind me so of Olivia.'

'Olivia?'

'Yes, my sister.'

'Your sister,' repeated Fritha, for a moment back in the Mithrest as she continued, 'yes, I heard the Lady Deorna mention you had sisters. What are they like?'

'Well, Isobel is fifteen and Olivia is just thirteen, but by far the more sensible of the pair. You'll have to meet them, they would _adore_ _y_ou.'

Fritha frowned slightly, the glint to Simon's eyes making her wonder at just _why_ the girls would find her so appealing; she did not fancy adding corrupting the young to her current list of transgressions within the city and said so. Simon really laughed then.

'And who would bring such charges? My father is the worst of all of us. He hates the expectations placed upon him because he is of noble blood, all the unspoken rules telling him what he should do and say and wear. He believes that if one acts always in goodness, one can never stray too far from the right path.'

'But don't the other nobles find him a bit, well, eccentric?' asked Fritha, recalling the treatment Nalia had received for her similar stance. But Simon merely shrugged.

'Oh, I expect so, but he is the head of one of the oldest families in Athkatla -and one of the richest too, if you'll pardon my frankness. Things such as that count for a lot in the City of Coin and I suppose no one feels they're in a position to judge. My mother is of the same mind as he. She worships the Morning Lord as well, so she was thrilled when I followed her path and joined the Order in His name. And my older brother, Gerard, is already married with a young son of his own and another on the way. They are always at our house so that my mother can dote on the blooming Fariha and my sisters can play with young Adris. Ha! Poor Gerard finds himself quite ignored. So, do you not have _any_ family?' Simon questioned, and after describing the lively chaos of people that was his own household, Fritha could see why he found it strange, 'No brothers and sisters to drive you to distraction?'

Fritha smiled, deciding to take a more open-ended view on what counted as a sibling than the mere ties of parentage and blood. 'No, none to speak of. Imoen was the closest thing I had to a sister, since we grew up together.'

Simon looked suddenly pained, and she could see him silently berating himself for reminding her of it.

'I am sure you will be reunited soon, Fritha.'

'Yes, of course,' she nodded reassuringly, a silence swelling between them as Fritha wracked her brains for something to say which would put him at ease, though the squire continued before she had chance.

'So, you have known Master Eriyn a long while now?'

Fritha shook her head, unable to help but smile at the mention of her friend.

'Not really, I suppose a short while over a long period would be more accurate. I was only with him for a few moments at most when I met him in Candlekeep and then for an evening when we met again more recently at the Coronet.'

Simon was watching her with an unreadable look. 'You seem very close for it.'

'Do we? Some people just seem to have an affinity with each other, I suppose. I see the same in you and Erick; a shared link that comes from more than just the friendship that grows over time.'

Simon smiled and nodded, usually reflective though the moment was lost as Sadir appeared back from the bar, the man cursing under his breath as a flurry of revellers hurrying to the dance floor nearly caused him to drop his tray.

'Ho, Sadir, you're weaving well! Need to call it a night?'

'Not on your life!' the man snorted, setting the tray down before them, four small cups and a tall glass bottle of clear liquid suddenly before her. 'I can still drink you under the table. Something which I will now prove since that was their last batch of rice wine.' He glanced to Fritha with a smiled, 'Have you before tasted, my lady, the subtle delights of juniper spirit?'

Fritha gave a great bark of laughter.

'Indeed I have, and neither _delight_ nor _subtle_ would be words I could use to describe the following morning. Ah, hello Anomen,' she greeted as the man himself appeared behind her chair, 'have you come to talk some sense into these two?'

He smiled slightly. 'I would not even make the attempt, my lady.'

'Oh, is Eriyn not with you?' Fritha continued, noticing the man's absence and peering behind Anomen to find their table empty.

'They were short on gentlemen who knew this dance -it is an old Waterhavian one apparently- and your friend volunteered himself as a partner,' Anomen explained as he drew out the seat next to her and Fritha turned to see Eriyn dancing a complicated bransle with Elsenda, the girl surprisingly bold, head high and smiling, Tristan watching them from the edge of the floor with a sulky look.

'I thought _you_ would be up more often than you have been, Fritha,' came Simon, drawing her attention back to the table, 'I was told you love to dance.'

'I do,' she assured with conviction, 'I suppose I just haven't my dancing shoes on tonight -literally now I think about it.' And there was a round of laughter as she drew up her skirts an inch to show them the battered sandals that adorned her feet.

'Sweet Sunrise, they must be freezing,' exclaimed Simon. 'Your feet will likely need a dance soon, if only to thaw them out! Tell me, what is your favourite and I _vow_ I shall find you one.'

'Ah, that is easy: a waltz.'

Sadir looked surprised. 'A waltz, you say? I would have thought you'd have liked something faster.'

Fritha shook her head, smiling wistfully.

'No, it is a waltz for me. Get the right tune and it's like you're dancing on a cloud.'

Simon grinned. 'Well, you'd be hard pressed get one in the taverns, but the Order holds a ball every Midsummer; you could always attend with Anomen here.'

Anomen shot the squire a dark look, though Fritha hardly noticed, laughing as she was.

'Oh yes, in an enormous gown with flowers in my hair and a good half-dozen attendants, I suppose?' She sent the squire a soft look. 'I like the way you see me, Simon. Oh, excuse me,' she continued as the dance finally drew to a close, the girl rising to rejoin Eriyn who had now returned to their empty table. Simon sighed deeply and shook his head.

'Oh, Anomen, she is lovely. Lovely and merry and so very sad at the same time. I should have just told her about the last Midsummer ball where you and I had to go together because we'd left it too late to find ladies to partner us. At least then she'd have laughed.'

'I know I did,' quipped Sadir. But Anomen just ignored them, reaching forward to pour himself some juniper spirits merely for something to do.

'I wish you would not keep forcing me at her so.'

Simon snorted impatiently. 'And I suppose it would be better to just sit over here with us and sulk about it, would it? Come on, man! She barely knows him, she said as much herself; he has no advantage over you.'

Anomen turned back to the table behind him with a frown, Fritha beaming as she refilled Eriyn's cup, her hand hovering over his as he held it out for her.

'No, he has one.'

Eriyn smiled, raising his cup in toast to her as she finally set down the pitcher and retook her seat, the man drinking at least half of it in one healthy gulp. 'Ah, that's better. I haven't had a jig that fast in a while.'

'Well, Elsenda seemed to enjoy it.'

'Yes, lovely girl, very light on her feet –certainly made me feel my age!' he huffed, Fritha laughing.

'Oh, you're not so old.'

Eriyn downed the rest of his wine with a sigh and a grin.

'No, I do not suppose I am. But be assured that I _am_ honoured that so fair a lady would compromise her virtue by sitting with me without her chaperone.'

'Sorry?' she frowned, turning at his nod to see Anomen watching them, the man going back to his drink the instant she'd turned to catch him staring. 'Oh Anomen,' she sighed to herself, adding as she turned back to Eriyn, 'He doesn't mean anything by it, he's just over-protective.' Though any further explanation of Anomen's behaviour was cut short.

'Will you come and partner me in a dance, my lady?' called Sadir, the young man already on the floor, William, Tristan, Elsenda and a few of the people of William's acquaintance all bustling about him as they took their partners for the reel that was already in its opening bars.

'Ah, no, Sadir, not this one, I'm feeling a little tired,' she called back, the squire easily finding another willing girl to partner him, Fritha feeling Eriyn's eyes on her as the dance began.

'You know I'm beginning to wish I hadn't come.'

Fritha turned to him, her eyebrows raised and a small smile pulling at her mouth, secure enough in his company to know he was joking.

'Oh _really_?'

'Yes, I should have just let us part ways and followed you here in secret; then I could have stolen you away for myself.'

Fritha laughed warmly, turning slightly in her seat so she could better ignore the scowl Anomen was sending them.

'And what makes you think you would have to _steal_ me away?'

Now it was Eriyn's turn to laugh, a new intensity to his eyes as he leaned in and took her hand.

'Why can't we?'

'What?'

He glanced hastily about them, half their group dancing while the rest were either watching or caught in talk, Anomen finally distracted apparently trying to talk Simon out of another round of juniper spirits.

'Come on!'

And Eriyn was suddenly on his feet, grabbing her coat from the back of her chair and ushering her to the door, the man slipping out into the darkness beyond. Fritha hesitated at the threshold and for a moment they stood, her in the noise and light of the tavern, him cloaked in deep blue shadows, the glow of the lamps bathing his face gold and she could just see the beginnings of the lines where his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

Somewhere behind her, a man's voice called her name; Erick perhaps, she wasn't sure. But in that instant, she made her decision, taking Eriyn's outstretched hand again and slipping through the door after him.

It was another world out there and Fritha felt pleasantly nervous stood with him in the twilight, her skin pricking with the unaccustomed thrill as Eriyn placed her coat about her shoulders.

'You're not cold, are you?'

She smiled and shook her head, slipping her arms into the sleeves. 'No, I'm fine.'

Eriyn smiled as well, taking her arm as he led them across the small square, past the arrangement of fountains and ornamental trees to the low wall that boarded the edge of the escarpment, the lights of homes and taverns both stretching down to the harbour far below them, the sea shimmering in the moonlight.

'Here, wait a moment,' he said softly as she went to sit, stopping her until he'd laid his coat over the cold stone. And there they sat in the darkness, the din of the tavern they had left just a murmur on the breeze behind them.

Fritha had half-wondered, almost worried, what Eriyn would perhaps expect once he'd got her out there, but as it was he made no move towards her and there was a calmness to the air as they sat staring out at the moonlit sea, their legs just touching.

Down in the harbour, the dark silhouette of a sail could be seen making its way towards the horizon as it headed for open water and Fritha absently watched its progress until Eriyn caught her eye.

'Tempted?' he grinned.

'Sorry?'

'There are plenty of boats moored down there; it wouldn't be too difficult to _acquire_ one to make our escape.'

'Our escape?' she repeated with a laugh, 'And where would you sail me to?'

'Everywhere!' he exclaimed with an expansive gesture that ended with an arm being draped causally over her shoulders. 'Halruaa, Damara, the far off Isles of Wa.'

Fritha smiled, leaning into the embrace. 'I don't think Damara has a coastline. And the Isles of Wa would be quicker to get to over land from here.'

He grinned roguishly. 'Not the way _I_ sail.'

She laughed at that and he let her, waiting until she'd quietened before continuing.

'Yes, we three would sail the world, -'

'_Three?_'

'Yes,' he answered, trying to hide his grin, 'every ship must have a ship's cat. Ours will be Samson.'

Fritha paused, pretending to contemplate this deeply for a moment until nodding once.

'Fair enough. You and I and, of course, _Samson_, will sail the world, as free as the sea and the sky. Then what?'

'Well, when we have been _every_where and seen _every_ thing, we shall return here and you shall write plays of our journeys for that theatre of yours to perform and every third tenday, Samson and I shall sail to Calimshan to return with silks and spices.'

Fritha smiled, feeling a deep melancholy joy as she left herself imagine such a life.

'That sounds lovely, Eriyn; I think I like it all the better for the impossibility of it.'

The man next to her sighed. 'Oh, how can so alive a girl be satisfied with such whisper-thin dreams.'

'They are more filling than you'd suspect, especially when there is nothing else to be had.'

For a moment she thought her words had prompted it, though she realised immediately he had likely been thinking on it for a long time, his voice carefully careless as he began, 'You know, I have quite a bit of leave owed to me… the captain is always very good about us taking it at short notice…'

Fritha felt her heart wrench, the unspoken offer hanging in the air between them and for a moment it was all she could do not to cry out, 'yes!' and grasp him and the much longed-for life he was offering to her with both hands. But she could not be that person now; there was no time, no room for such gentle fragile weakness. He was just another thing to lose, and it seemed the closer she wanted Eriyn, the further away she needed him to be.

'Very short notice; you sail in but an hour's time,' she agreed with a wry laugh. But Eriyn merely watched her, not in the slightest fooled by her levity and she turned away with a sigh.

'Oh, Eriyn, no. It's so kind of you, but you don't know what you're offering and I can't, I just can't -I mean, I tried before and, well…' She trailed off, giving herself a moment to calm her emotions before she could continue firmly, 'This life I must lead, Wren, is not for me, and it is certainly not for you and I feel better knowing only one of us has to live it.'

Eriyn sighed again, though he managed a faint smile for her all the same.

'I understand. Just remember, you will not be living so forever.'

She nodded once, frightened she might cry if she tried to speak again, though he seemed to understand, his arm tightening around her shoulders for a brief embrace just as a voice somewhere behind them called out.

'Lady Fritha? Master Eriyn?'

They rose and walked back to the tavern together in silence, his arm still about her.

xxx

Jaheira paused at the corner, still cloaked in the shadows of the alley as she let her eyes scan the tavern front, deserted save for a couple of men who were slumped outside, though from the low rumble in the air she could tell it was still busy enough within. The northern quarter of the slums was rough even by the area's low standard, the grim locale hardly lessening her unease. The grimy windows were giving out just enough light to illuminate the area before the tavern, a narrow courtyard of cracked cobblestones ending after a only a few yards, falling away to an overgrown bank which sloped straight down to the river, a rickety fence the only thing keeping the local drunks from a watery end.

Jaheira moved closer, the flowing water flecked with yellow in the lamplight, the same colour and similar consistency to oil in the darkness, though she knew it looked little better in the daylight. A stiff breeze was blowing from downstream in fits and starts, the sign hung above the door squeaking as it swung back and forth. _The Black Swan_. Very appropriate, thought Jaheira as she considered the murky water; she could not imagine anything remaining white in that soup.

Footsteps behind her and she turned to see the one she had been waiting for, Dermin's lined worn face serious for what little she could see of it, the man stood, half cloaked in the shadows of the alleyway as she had been.

'Jaheira, you came.'

'Of course,' she answered as she moved to join him in the darkness, 'your note said it was urgent.'

Dermin sighed. 'Yes, though I do not know how much help it will be for you to know of it…' he fixed her with a grave look, 'Galvarey knows Fritha went tomb-robbing the other day.'

Jaheira gave a bark of cold laughter. 'By Silvanus, if he means to lay that crime at her door then he can charge me for it as well; I am just as guilty.'

But the old Harper merely frowned, looking pensive.

'Yes… I believe _that_ is what worried Galvarey; that the girl is corrupting you.'

'Corrupting- I've never heard anything so ridiculous! Fritha has done nothing but good since she arrived in this city. She even refused the vampires' offers of Imoen; she never had any intention of joining them.'

'That she tells you.'

Jaheira drew back, his words striking at her very heart.

'Not you as well, Dermin…'

'Please, Jaheira, I am just giving you a taste of what others will say.'

She snorted, not bothering to hide her contempt. 'Others -you mean _Galvarey_.'

Dermin sighed deeply, looking suddenly old.

'When are you going to understand, Jaheira, he is on your side. You are both Harpers, you fight for the same things.'

'Yes, but on this…' Jaheira shook her head. 'You do not understand, none of you do; Fritha, she not like anyone else. If you could only meet her, you would see…' she trailed off as she realised the words that had just left her mouth. Jaheira pressed her lips together, her voice barely a whisper as she asked, 'Dermin, what should I do?'

'Do you trust the Harpers?'

Jaheira tried to swallow; it was painful.

'The Harpers, yes, but Galvarey…'

Dermin sighed again, tired and exasperated.

'Galvarey is a part of the Harpers. And yes he is young and hungry to prove himself but, be assured he has done so for our cause time and time again.' The man sent her a stern look. 'Jaheira, do you trust _me_?'

'Yes,' she answered without a moment's hesitation, glad there was something, at least, she was sure of. Dermin stared back at her, the pride plain on his lined faced.

'Then let Galvarey evaluate her. Let him come to see her as you do and we can all stand together, side by side within the Harper ranks once more.'

The Harpers. More than just a group, it was an ideal she had served for nearly all her adult life, and one that many people she was proud to call friends saw fit to join her in… that Khalid had once joined her in…

Jaheira fought down the last of her doubts and nodded once.

'Very well, I will bring her.'

xxx

Anomen stood watching the pair before him, just silhouettes in the lamplight of the huge schooner docked behind them, the couple unmindful of the bustle just yards away as the ship prepared to set sail. Her hair was down, Eriyn sheathing his dagger and kissing the lock he had just stolen, Fritha giggling as she gave his arm a playful shove.

Eriyn's ship was sailing with the midnight tide, Fritha saying she wished to see him off and their group had parted ways just before the docks, William and Sadir heading back to the Order, while Tristan offered to escort Diesveld or more likely _Elsenda_ back to their estate, Anomen, Erick and Simon accompanying Fritha and Eriyn down to the quays.

The sound of footsteps behind him as someone approached to stand at his side, Erick's profile sculpted and pale in the moonlight, as though his face was just an alabaster mask.

'He favours her,' he said simply.

Anomen nodded. 'Yes.'

'And she?'

The knight shrugged. 'Fritha maintains they are just friends –she would have no reason to lie about it,' he added, wondering just _who_ he was hoping to convince. He knew all to well that how people honestly described their present circumstances was no indication of what they _desired _of them.

Anomen sighed deeply, turning away from the pair and letting his eyes scan the line of dwellings and taverns behind them, looking shabby and sordid in the streetlamps, the scatting of drunks and harlots milling about before them hardly helping with the image.

'Where is Simon?'

'Just on the steps talking to some sailors –I left them trying to teach him a hornpipe.'

Anomen smiled in spite of himself. '_He_ would be a better match for her.'

It was Erick's turn to sigh.

'Anomen-'

But a bell ringing on the quays behind them cut him off. Anomen watched as Eriyn closed the gap between the pair, the man placing a hand against her cheek as he leaned in to whisper something at her ear. Fritha was leaning into the touch, her fingers clutching the sleeve of his shirt as she nodded before they parted with a smile, Eriyn moving off towards the large ship moored behind them, the man looking back to throw her a departing grin, before he turned to jog up the gang plank with the other stragglers and he was gone.

Fritha stood staring into the darkness after him, her shoulders heaving with a sigh before she was walking back to them, smiling in a gentle way that made Anomen feel even worse.

'Thank you both for waiting. Right, well, shall we head back then?'

They made their way back up the steep terraced streets from the quayside, Simon drunkenly lamenting that he had not been able to find Fritha a waltz as he had vowed and he led her in the dance all the way, girl laughing and trying to keep her footing as he swept her back and forth, singing enthusiastically. The four had reached the edge of the Bridge District by now, their group halted and about to part ways, Anomen and Fritha continuing east to the slums, while Simon and Erick would take the southern road back to the Temple District. Neither pair were getting very far at the moment though, Fritha leant back against the wall of an obliging house, trying to catch her breath as she giggled merrily, Simon stood before her, red-faced and laughing himself, Erick smiling through his exasperation as he tried to get his friend back to the Order before the dawn.

'Come on, Simon, I've got archery instruction tomorrow morning.'

'All right, all right.' Simon turned back to Fritha, taking her hand and dipping a deep bow that almost ended with him face first in the gutter, the man just regaining his balance to sweep upright once more.

'My lady, you have made this night. Promise me, the next time we have a gathering you'll attend.'

Fritha smiled, fanning at her flushed face with her free hand, her eyes sparkling. 'I promise, Simon.'

The squire beamed, looking down on her fondly.

'Oh, such a treasure -you need to hurry up and marry her, Anomen, because if you don't, I will!'

'_Simon!_' Anomen barked, Fritha lost to laughter once more as Erick finally lost patience with his friend.

'Come on, Simon! Gods, I'll wring Sadir's neck when I next see him!' He grabbed his friend's arm to half-lead, half-drag him along the street, the squire's voice echoing as he shouted back to them.

'Ask her, Anomen! Ask her!_ Ohhhhh, I've a dappled gelding, and a ship that sails the sea, but they're none so precious as my own sweetheart to me. Now some men call her Lucy and others Marie-Clair, but to me she is Sweet Friiiithaaa, the girl with the auburn hair!'_

Fritha's laughter finally calmed with a sigh as the men rounded the corner and Simon's song faded to leave the air still, the girl smiling warmly as she turned to Anomen.

'I think those lyrics might have undergone a slight revision. Oh, Anomen, you're so lucky, your friends are wonderful.'

Anomen had never actually thought about it before, but he supposed they were really.

'Ah well,' she continued, pushing herself upright and absently straightening her sash, 'I suppose we should be returning as well. Do you mind if we walk along to the main bridge and return to the Five Flagons so I can change back into my clothes and sword?'

'Your sword?' he questioned as they fell into step, 'I thought you had decided Jaheira had no grounds to complain.'

Fritha sent him a wry smile. 'I don't think she does, but that does not mean she will agree with me.'

Anomen laughed and the pair made their way to the inn in a silence that was at least comfortable even if it was more contemplative than he would have liked, Fritha seeming slightly pensive now Simon was no longer there to distract her.

A stiff breeze was blowing in from the harbour, damp and brackish, and he could not help but noticed as she shivered under her coat.

'Are you cold, my lady?' he asked, a hand already halfway to the clasp of his cloak but Fritha just sent him an absent smile.

'No, I'm fine. Ah, and here we are.'

Anomen glanced up, the Five Flagons before them, looking stout and welcoming and very much closed, not a lighted window to be seen over the whole building.

'The tavern looks to be shut,' he provided unnecessarily but Fritha remained unfazed.

'That's all right, I've a key to the stage door.'

He followed her around the back of the inn, a set of stone steps leading down to a heavy iron door, the girl producing a large key from her coat pocket, placing in it in the lock to turn it with some difficulty, though the door swung open without a sound. Inside it was dark, the light from the street lamps opening out a small narrow corridor and he could just make out a set of steps before the shadows closed in. Fritha called her werelight, turning back to him with a smile.

'I'll just be a moment.'

He nodded and she left him in the doorway, the girl tripping quietly along the corridor to the backstage, though there was hardly any need for stealth. Only Higgold and Meck actually resided at the theatre and even then their rooms were not there in the basement, the pair having permanent quarters in the inn above. The rest of the troupe had homes and lodgings about the city and she realised she had never seen the theatre so empty since that first night it had become hers. Fritha paused before the dressing room, the tables strewn with a confusion of make-ups and props, debris from the last rehearsal, everything holding an immediate air as though the actors had all just suddenly vanished. The place was eerie now she was so used to it full of people and bustle, but for all that she was glad everyone was already gone, Fritha unsure she could have borne having to face Jenna and the others just yet, having to chatter and giggle about Simon and her evening, all the while silent of the man they knew nothing of and the ache he had left her with. It had been bad enough on the docks, watching him fade into the darkness only to have to turn back and face the pitying expressions of the two knights. If it hadn't been for Simon, she did not know what she would have done; the squire's merry obliviousness making it all so much easier to ignore.

Her clothes and belongings were in her office where she'd left them and she changed quickly, neatly folding Jenna's dress over the back of a chair in the dressing room where she would notice it when she arrived in the morning.

'There, all finished,' Fritha called quietly, tripping back along the narrow corridor, Anomen turning back from where he had been gazing up at the sky, 'Thank you for waiting.'

'You are quite welcome, my lady.'

She locked up once more and they made their back to the slums in silence, Anomen's attention still focused rather wistfully on the clouded sky above them and he did not speak again until they were both stood on the darkened landing of the Coronet, paused before her open doorway.

'Well, goodnight, Fritha, I-' Anomen faltered, for an instant frowning before the mild smile was back, 'Sleep well, my lady.'

'Yes, you too, Anomen.'

She closed the door behind her, just leaning back against wood and letting the dark silence hang about her a moment before she finally felt able to break both, moving to across the room to light the lamp on her dresser.

After such an evening it did not feel right to go to sleep straight away, to so readily consign it to the past, and although she knew that she was fighting a battle that had already been lost, and that the morning may well find her having wished she'd been more prompt in getting to her bed, she stayed awake; pouring herself a little water as she got ready for sleep and moving ponderously through the routine only half a mind on it as the rest of her dwelled upon him.

Their ship would have left the harbour by now and she picture him busy, setting sails and trimming rigging ready for the voyage to Calimport. Part of her wished she was occupied too, as she put out the light and slipped between the cool sheets, rather than there alone with only her thoughts for company. But she had realised long ago that wishes did very little and with a sigh she settled down, shed a few tears, which she told herself came more as a result of too much wine and excitement than any real misery, and resigned herself to sleep.


	65. Last Orders

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

_Author's note: I'm publishing this a little earlier than planned since I am away this weekend (Watch out, Manchester! :-D). This is one of my favourite chapters of the ones I've been working on/published recently, which I suppose, in an ironic world, would be a cue for everyone to tell me they dislike it, but I will take that risk ;-)_

_Thanks, as always, to my betas, Maje, Drew and Arabellaesque, and to everyone who took the time to read and review._

-Blackcross & Taylor

**Last orders**

Aerie stood at the window, her head pillowed on her arms as they rested against the sill, the cold of the floorboards creeping in to her bare feet as she watched the sun slowly edge over the jumble of rooftops. She had not slept that night; she had not tried. Haer'Dalis had returned just after the moon had set, the man just appearing at her door, his bag at his back, already packed, and she could still hear the unbearable resignation in his voice as he had bid her that last farewell.

'_You have not changed your mind, of course. No, do not answer, I can see by your eyes. Well, my decision is made as well then. I cannot stay here. I suffered enough of love unrequited with Raelis and I will not put myself through the same again. Perhaps some time apart will do us both some good. Please give the others my apologies, the hour is late and I do not wish to wake them… Maybe we will meet again, but until then, fair thee well, Aerie.'_

Aerie sighed, a strange numbness blanketing her. She thought she would have been devastated, wracked by a misery without compare, but she just felt empty, looking back on the past two months and the memories of their relationship with a hazy disbelief; had it even happened? Had it even been she who had held his hand and laughed and kissed him. Nothing felt real, the city that was laid out before her no more than a model, the vast toy of some spoilt child.

Aerie turned from the window, taking only a few steps into the room before she had sunk down to kneel on the hearth rug and make her prayers. She did not have a set time for her worship as Anomen and Jaheira seemed to, just praying when the urge entered her heart, when she was full of joy or steeped in misery or when she simply needed guidance… like then. She knelt on the rug and raised her hands, the rough fibres pressing into her legs, the cold of the feet that rested under her seeping through her thin slip. She remembered in the beginning, the prayers of thanks that she felt she could have intoned for hours, thanks that she had finally found someone who had made her heart so sing. And then the more recent prayers, knelt begging to be shown what she needed to do to just _understand_ him and the things he did, and why he couldn't seem to help but hurt and upset her.

Aerie felt the lump rising in her throat. Slight at first, it grew large and hotter, a burning coal lodged there and when the tears finally came she did not try to stop them, cradling her head to sob into her hand until she was empty once more. And perhaps that had been what she was waiting for, a tiredness washing through her limbs as she straightened, the girl just summoning enough will to crawl into bed for a few hours, where she could lie unaware of the world before she would be forced to face the consequences of her decision.

It was only a few hours later when Aerie awoke from a restless sleep, the elf rising to wash and dress with little care as to she was wearing. Downstairs the room was busy and her own table was no less so, the life and noise making her feel all the more empty as she moved to join them, Fritha full of smiles as she regaled the others with tales of her evening with the knights.

'Oh, I had the best time. I swear, I think we would still all be there dancing now if Simon had had his way.'

'Dancing, you say?' came Cernd, his tone unusually light-hearted, 'So, our young leader's hand was not asked for in any more _permanent _basis?'

'Well, now you mention it, there _were _a couple of marriage proposals, though I thought it best to decline.'

'Good! Boo says we need our Fritha more than they!'

'Well, thank you, Boo.'

Aerie watched Jaheira send the three an almost rueful smile before turning to the knight.

'And did you enjoy your evening, Anomen?'

The man glanced briefly to Fritha before nodding once, his voice mild, especially when compared to the girl's enthusiasm. 'It was most pleasant, my lady.'

Jaheira smiled wryly. 'Such a glowing report, Anomen -you _were_ both at the same gathering, were you not?'

Everyone laughed, even Anomen managing a smile at her wit.

'Ah, good morning, Aerie,' Jaheira continued as the elf sank into the chair opposite, the maid arriving to set their final dish, a trencher of bread, on the table, the druid immediately moving to cut herself a few slices. 'Would anyone else like some?'

'Shouldn't we wait for Haer'Dalis?' asked Fritha.

Jaheira snorted. 'Would he wait for any of us?'

'Fair point -have you seen him yet this morning, Aerie?'

Aerie swallowed, her throat suddenly tight and she only just managed to shake her head. Fritha frowned slightly.

'Are you all right? You look ever so pale.'

'No, I- I'm fine.'

'Have you and he had another fight?' Fritha questioned, sending her a sympathetic look and not even waiting for an answer, sighing as she made to rise, 'I'll go and knock for him.'

'Don't!' Aerie cried before she could stop herself, the elf feeling her face growing hot as everyone turned to her.

'Don't what?' questioned Jaheira, 'Aerie, what is wrong?'

'Please-' Aerie cried, suddenly desperate, 'please don't go, he- he's not there!'

'Aerie, calm yourself, you are not making sense.'

'Yes,' agreed Fritha, 'what do you mean, "he's not there" –has he gone out?'

Aerie swallowed and shook her head. 'I- we had another quarrel last night and- and he left.'

'Oh, well, no matter,' sighed Jaheira, leaning across the table to slice some more bread, 'I'm sure he'll be back once he has finished licking his wounds.'

Aerie choked back a sob, their cruel obtuseness forcing her to relive the thing.

'I- I don't think… When we fought…'

Fritha leaned in, gently clicking her tongue as Aerie tried to swallow her tears, Anomen and Cernd suddenly very interested in their breakfasts.

'Oh come now, Aerie, I know it probably seemed like you both said things that you could never come back from, but I'm sure it is nothing you cannot resolve.'

'No, you're not listening!' she cried, angry at how Fritha had assumed it was just another of their silly little quarrels, 'He did not just _leave_, he has _left_; he has _gone_!'

'Gone?' repeated Fritha, drawing back from her with a frown, 'Well, when is he coming back?'

Aerie felt her throat tighten again, hardly daring to breath.

'I- I don't think he is.'

The table looked astounded, though none more so than Fritha.

'_What?_ He- he's just _gone_? Just like _that?_ No explanation? No note? _Nothing_?' Aerie watched as something about the girl hardened, eyes narrowing, her voice slow and measured, 'Well then _why_ didn't you stop him? Or- or even tell one of the others? Or _anything?_'

Aerie shook her head, this anger unexpected. Everything was happening so quickly, everyone staring at her waiting for an answer and she felt almost dazed.

'I- I just thought it would be better this way.'

Fritha's eyes flashed. '_Better? _Better for _whom_?'

'Fritha,' warned Jaheira, quiet but firm. Aerie swallowed, a bitter anger of her own rising within her.

'No, let her speak her mind, Jaheira!' she snapped shrilly. It had been building for days now, the desire mete out some of the pain she had been feeling as she'd watched them together, the way Haer'Dalis seemed to trust the girl, the pair relating to each other in a way Aerie would have always found impossible.

'After all, if we're dispensing the blame we should not neglect _your_ share. Always dragging him about the city, a companion to your misery, too caught up in your own troubles to see you were driving us apart,' she accused, feeling an unpleasant rush of joy as Fritha flushed. 'The way you would carry on with him, always laughing and going off together; you liked him from the very beginning, didn't you?'

Fritha's cheeks were scarlet now, though it seemed more from anger than any embarrassment, the girl suddenly on her feet and much taller than Aerie had ever remembered her being.

'I was nothing to Haer'Dalis but a _friend_, something you wouldn't understand since you're too _selfish_ to have ever had one! Haer'Dalis _loved_ you; he would have done _anything _for you! The way he would talk after your arguments, so desperate to understand why you kept picking at him, the way he professed to love you over and over. _You_ drove him away, Aerie, just you, and now he's gone and the group is one man down, and I am one friend the less, so I hope you're happy with yourself!'

'Fritha,' came Jaheira eventually in the stunned silence that followed, her voice quieter than it had been, 'that's enough now…'

Fritha shot the woman a dark look but said no more, abruptly grabbing up her cloak to throw it about her shoulders. 'Sod this, I'm going to the theatre!'

'Fritha!' someone shouted, but Aerie said nothing, her heart beating heavy in her chest as though she had just woken from a nightmare. About her, people were talking, but they sounded far away and she just sat, watching the battered tavern door where the girl had last been before she pushed her plate away and rose as well.

'I'm going to the circus.'

xxx

Outside the morning was cold and sharp, Fritha's breath misting in the air as she drew deep calming lungfuls. But it was no use. After last night and the pain of watching Eriyn leave again, to lose another so unexpectedly was too much for her. Haer'Dalis, her friend, the _one _person who had made that last tenday anywhere near bearable, was gone, more than likely forever, and she was alone once more.

Fritha felt her fists clench, eyes closing against the pressure building in her temples, the world pressing in about her. She _hated_ that city, that life she had been forced into, her head reeling with the sheer intensity of the feeling, the urge to just be free of it all coursing through her and before she knew it she had begun to run. It was slow at first, no more than a jog, but she pushed herself faster and faster and soon she was haring through the streets, Athkatla just a blur around her, her whole world reduced to the heavy pounding of her heart, the air burning in her lungs and for a few meagre moments she was free. She reached the bridge all too quickly though, the sight of the Five Flagon bringing her sharply back to reality and she skidded to a halt outside, Samuel stood on the front step smoking his pipe as he enjoyed the morning's quiet and she just caught a glimpse of his concerned frown before she bent double, her hands resting on her knees as she fought to catch her breath.

'You all right there, Fritha? You looked like Asmodeus himself was after you.'

'No, Samuel, no, I'm fine, I just…' she trailed off, feeling herself going red, all her hatred turned to embarrassment and she swallowed the sudden lump in throat, frightened she would just burst into tears right there in the street. But she did not.

Fritha drew in one final breath and slowly let it go.

'I- I am fine, Samuel. Is Higgold up yet?'

He was, but only just, the director still looking half as sleep as he greeted her in the tavern, the rest of the cast and crew all sat at the tables about him taking their breakfast.

'Oh, my Lady Patron, I did not think we would be seeing you until later, I, ah, there isn't a problem, is there?'

Fritha shook her head, trying to force a smile to reassure him but it would not come.

'No, no problem, I just had some free time so I thought to come here and see if you need me for anything.'

'Oh, well, you caught up with all the paperwork the other day and we are still awaiting the dyed parchment for the invitations… Oh, but I know Meck needs help fetching an old chest from the larger of the two storerooms -Ketrick was supposed to help him yesterday, but his back is troubling him again. Oh, but perhaps you should not-' he added in afterthought, perhaps worrying she would deem such a task beneath her.

'No, no. I'm sure I can be of assistance there. Where's Meck?'

The boy was already down in the theatre and she found him backstage, stood at the open doorway of the larger storeroom sizing up the chaos of furniture and props within and Fritha considered that once the season was over, she would definitely have to assign some people to the task of organising the place.

'Morning, Meck,' she sighed in greeting, 'Higgold said you were hoping to fetch out some chest?'

The boy started slightly, glancing up to her and seemingly surprised she was there though he recovered soon enough.

'Oh, morning, m'lady. Well, I was just thinking on that meself. The chest is somewhere in the back there; it's going t' take all day to shift that mess out to get to it though -I can see why Ketrick's back suddenly started playing up, aye?'

Meck laughed and Fritha smiled slightly, the boy's good humour somehow making the ache within her all the worse.

'Well, I don't really fancy spending all day shifting props. The path to the chest is mostly clear; I say we just sort of clamber over and we'll worry about how to get it out once we're there.'

It was agreed, Meck seeming rather enthused by Fritha's haphazard approach to the task and they clambered through the jumble, ducking under a barrier of blunted spears to walk along a faded sofa and squeeze past an overflowing chest of drawers, Meck laughing as Fritha was assaulted by a papier-mâché skeleton, which fell from the top of a nearby wardrobe to tangle her in a dusty embrace. The chest was resting against the back wall, half-hidden under a pile of poorly made tabards from some long-forgotten fictitious army and the pair of them spent a few moments clearing the area about it, Fritha climbing to the other side and she and Meck both crouched down, worming their fingers under the heavy base.

'Ready? And lift,' she signalled, half-straightening and nearly choking as the cords at her neck caught on the drawer handle next her. 'Whoa there, hold on before I strangle myself.'

They set the chest down again, Fritha taking a moment to untangle herself before she straightened.

'A key?' Meck confirmed, his attention caught by the large iron key and her jade stone that now hung above her tunic.

'Yes, though don't ask me what it opens for I haven't a clue,' she sighed, slumping onto the sofa they had just climbed across to take it from her neck, the boy perching next to her, 'We found it in the house of a fugitive we're supposed to be hunting, but the trail has been cold for days now. I don't know why I'm still wearing it, I suppose I just want to believe it's still important, that we can still find him.'

She let the boy take it from her, small hands running over the worn letters with a reverence which reflected the importance she had attributed to it.

'Hmm, _Samson and Wellings_.'

Fritha was astounded. 'You –You can read it?'

Meck glanced up to her smiling proudly.

'Oh aye, me ma taught me my letters when I were young, though I weren't so good at the time. I'm much better now though: Marcus's been 'elping me.'

'Well, good,' Fritha continued, feeling somewhat caught out, 'but I mean you can read it? The whole name? The first word is so worn none of us could make it out.'

Meck just shrugged. 'Yeah, but I know what it says anyway.'

'_What?_'

'Aye, from those digs I 'ad when I were in that street gang. It were full of stuff from when it were still a factory; old crates and jars and sacks and on them all that were stamped: _Samson and Wellings_-' He looked to her again, frowning slightly at her no doubt stunned expression, 'Lady Patron?'

Suddenly Fritha was on her feet, clambering back through the chaos and almost falling over herself in her haste.

'Meck, we've found him! We've finally found him!'

xxx

Aerie pulled aside the heavy canvas flap and slipped through the narrow gap, escaping the bright noise of the Promenade into peace of the circus tent, the air tinged with the familiar smell of sawdust and damp canvas as the morning dew dried on the sloped fabric roof above her. Though it was not early in the morning by any means, the last performance in the circus never ended until almost midnight, a much more bawdy routine entertaining the drunken crowds that filled the pavilion at that hour, and as a result the circus folk generally rose much later than was usual. Aerie stood in the small entrance chamber, the main pavilion through the curtains to her right, the rows of benches empty before a silent stage while behind the curtain to her left were the performers living quarters. They seemed just as lifeless as the circus proper though and Aerie was just wondering what she should do when the flap was pulled back, and Yasmine, the cheery halfling knife-thrower, bustled through, a towering basket of laundry in her arms.

'I'm sorry, the first performance isn't till- Aerie! I almost didn't recognise you! We have not seen you here in a while. I was just on my way out- there's a nice old gnomish lady in the east of the arena who takes in laundry- Here, let me call your uncle out.' She poked her head back through the curtains to bellow at a volume that quite belied her size, 'Quayle! Hey Quayle, you've a visitor.'

And the gnome himself appeared but a moment later, looking as though he had not long been up, shirt half-untucked and whiskers standing out at odd angles, the gnome fumbling for his spectacles. 'Now who-? Ah,' he cried as he finally fitted them to his nose, 'is that my little Aerie?'

Aerie smiled weakly, feeling a pang of homesickness so strong she wondered how she had ever left the place. 'Hello Quayle.'

'Hello indeed!' he scolded fondly, 'Why so formal, my child? Or are you too grown up now to be giving your old uncle a hug? Ha, that's better-' he chucked as they finally parted from a friendly embrace, 'Now what brings you back here?'

Aerie shrugged, not sure she knew the why of it herself. 'No reason, I just missed you, I suppose.'

Quayle sent her a searching look and nodded wisely.

'Ah, I see… Well, let's go in the back and have a proper catch up, then,' he offered with his familiar toothy smile, the pair of them bidding Yasmine farewell as the halfling left for the Promenade, Aerie slipping off her boots to carry them as she followed her uncle through canvas floored sleeping quarters.

Most people were still trying to catch up on their sleep before preparations for the first performance of the day required them to be up, people nestled about the room under piles of bedding, the curtains hanging here and there about the chamber the only attempt at privacy. Quayle was headed for the back of the tent, pushing aside another heavy canvas curtain to what served as the circus's kitchen, the battered old range already hot in the corner, the room dominated by a long table where Aerie herself had once taken her meals along with everyone else. She sank down at the far end of one of the long benches, Quayle setting two chipped cups before her and filling both with some well-stewed tea from a large iron teapot on the stove behind them before taking the seat next to her.

'So,' Quayle began slowly after that first bitter sip, 'that blue-haired fellow of yours not with you this time, then?'

Aerie dipped her face, taking another mouthful of the hot strong tea and across from her, she heard her uncle sigh.

'Aye, I thought I recognised that look. So, are you going to tell your old uncle all about it?'

'Oh, Quayle, everything has gone wrong!' she burst out suddenly, 'I wish I had never left you, never left the circus!'

'Oh, my Aerie, there now,' he soothed as she began to cry, 'what has happened?'

'Everything,' she hiccupped, her voice sounding almost echoed as she mumbled the words into her hands. 'Haer'Dalis has gone. We've been fighting and fighting and in the end I just let him go and now the others hate me and I am stuck here on this wretched rock, the world pressing in about me, all its pain and misery clogging up my mouth until I feel it will suffocate me!' she cried, the anger and sorrow she had been trying to forget for as long as she could remember finally flooding out of her, the girl flinging her arms about his neck as she cried, 'Oh, Quayle, why did they have to take them? Why did they have to take my wings?'

Quayle said nothing, just stood there with his arms about her, gently stroking her hair just as he had in the beginning. And, Aerie considered dully as her tears finally subsided, had anything really changed since then? At her ear, she heard Quayle sigh.

'Ah, my dear little Aerie, I fear I did you no favours when I took you in after the slavers cast you out.'

Aerie drew back from him, so shocked she could not even feel stung as she cried, 'How- how can you say that?'

'Oh, I don't mean it unkindly, but you've never had a chance to grow like the rest of us have. I protected you, yes, but I hindered you too, held you back; you've never had to be your own person, never had to face up to your loss.'

'If you thought so, then why didn't just cast me out again as the slavers did?' she snapped sharply. But the gnome just sighed again and shook his head.

'Oh Aerie, these things are not so easy to see and I cared for your well-being, truly I did. And in the begin it seemed only right I take you in, protect you from the harsh world outside in the bright pantomime that is the circus, where everyone has a role to play. But as time went on, I came to realise that it was no good for you, these canvas walls just another way for you to hide from your sorrows -because of me you had just swapped one cage for another. I knew it would be hard for you and a part of me just wanted to spare you from it. I hoped travelling with those adventures you might be able to find your true place in the world, but...' he trailed off with a shrug, taking another mouthful of tea.

'Oh don't talk of them, please, I can't bear it,' Aerie cried, an awful yawning hole suddenly opening just under her ribs as she imagined having to face them all once more. 'They will have no place for me anymore; Fritha hates me now Haer'Dalis has gone.'

Quayle reached across the table to pat her hand, a warm look on his old whiskery face. 'Ah, things aren't ever as bad as they seem.'

Aerie could not agree, merely nodding vaguely to ask, 'Do you think I did the right thing, letting him go?'

Quayle puffed out a long uncertain sigh.

'Well, now, if _you_ are unsure, _I_ surely could not say. I suppose time will tell, though I will say this: the decision is made now, for good or ill, it will be how you deal with the consequences that will truly make the difference in you.'

xxx

'Some more tea?' asked Cernd. Jaheira shook her head, her cup still half full on the table before her and the man turned immediately to the ranger at his side, Minsc offering Cernd his cup with a grim nod. Breakfast had hardly been the same after Fritha and then Aerie had made their abrupt departures, Anomen leaving for the temple soon afterwards and with nothing else to be done, Minsc, Cernd and Jaheira had just remained at the table, gloomily sharing out the rest of the tea and waiting for the others' eventual return.

Minsc sighed deeply as he swallowed that first scalding mouthful, returning the cup to the table before him with a dull clunk.

'Ah, all these quarrels -and between friends too,' the man shook his head gravely, 'not good, not good. Boo was sure that once these vampires were refused, peace would come again to our group.'

Cernd was murmuring his agreement, but Jaheira said nothing. The vampires had brought their group more trouble than either of them could ever know. She had not forgotten last night's promise to Dermin, though she was certainly having second thoughts about it after this morning's altercation. Jaheira sighed, she had wanted to draw Fritha aside today, perhaps mention something about needing her later, but then Haer'Dalis's departure had come to light and Jaheira had had no further chance.

The druid swirled her cup absently, watching the tea leaves whirl in the storm within. Such a conflict really could not have come at a worse time. Fritha was, at the very least, unhappy and probably very angry into the bargain –perhaps it would be best to delay this meeting until she was less irascible. Jaheira set her cup down again with a frustrated sigh, feeling old and foolish. Galvarey was a Harper, as she kept reminding herself; he would not let something so minor influence his evaluation. No, the time had come for this all to be brought out in the open and resolved, once and for all. She would take Fritha before Galvarey as promised, let him speak with the girl and see that, despite some unfortunate decisions of late, her heart was good, and then his and the seniors' worries would finally be allayed.

Jaheira took up her cup again, downing the last of her tea in one long cold mouthful and almost choking as the door banged open behind her, Fritha stood in the open doorway, haloed by sunlight and looking wild, the boy, Meck, at her heels.

'We've found him.'

--

The docks were busy. A trading vessel had just docked from Waterdeep and the quayside was a chaos of people, crew and dockworkers trying to unload her cargo, the few passengers that had disembarked milling about in twos and threes still trying to find their legs (and some their stomachs too, by their pallor) while merchants jostled in amongst them all, trying to collect the wares they were due, one man complaining loudly to the first mate about a consignment of blue-glazed pottery that had apparently been damaged on the trip. But even then, their group were still drawing looks, such a strange mix of people marching so purposefully through the throng, a young boy leading the procession.

'Gods, Anomen will have my head,' Fritha muttered to no one in particular, ignoring the press about her in a way Jaheira never could. 'He made me promise after the crypts incident that I would always tell him when I was planning to do something illegal and potentially dangerous.'

'There, it's that one over there, the one on the end of the block,' announced Meck as they reached the end of the quays, the boy pointing to a long whitewashed building that ran right up to the quay's edge where it merged with the harbour to go down into the sea, the three frontages it bore in differing states of repair, but all set with the three same rows of small sand-grazed windows. Fritha nodded once.

'Good work, Meck. Now I need you to run over to the temple of Helm and ask for Anomen and tell him –oh, just tell him this whole convoluted story and bring him here if he's willing.'

The boy nodded to show he'd understood and turned to run back up the hill.

'Right,' continued Fritha, casting her eye over the three buildings before her, 'let's find our fugitive.'

But it seemed this was to be easier said than done. As Meck had said, the factory which he had once called home was no longer, three properties now where one once stood and it seemed none of them had even seen their fugitive nor knew where they could find a door for their key.

Jaheira watched as Fritha came out of the last building, a large inn that looked like it served as a brothel as well from the large number of dubiously dressed women hanging about outside, the girl sending her a dull shake of her head as she made her way back to where Jaheira, Cernd and Minsc were awaiting her on the quays. Fritha looked strange in her chainmail, the girl so rarely wearing it about the city unless on some excursion to the sewers or graveyard or other place where she expected danger, and with her boots at last fastened _properly,_ the leather tightly laced to up over her knees, her contrast to the surrounding women could not have been more pronounced.

'Here, love, that were fast!' one of them called to her suggestively, no halt to the girl's pace as she turned to reply, 'You're telling me; I demanded my money back!' and Fritha reached them to a chorus of debauched laughter that was much opposed to her grim look, Jaheira absently wishing that the squire had been with them for this jaunt, if only so she could see his blush.

'The innkeep said he's never seen anyone matching the description around here and as for a door,' Fritha shook her head, and Jaheira guessed his answer had been the same one they had been given in the warehouse and the trading coster before it; that baring the floors and ceilings, the insides of the building had been completely re-worked during the renovation –nothing of the old factory was left. Fritha sat down on the rusted iron mooring bollard next to her with a discouraged sigh.

'This is impossible. This key was nothing after all; the door it fits probably doesn't even exist anymore.'

'But then why would Valygar have it?' questioned Jaheira, Fritha throwing up her hands in her frustration.

'Who knows? But no one round here seems to have seen him.'

'Well, that hardly means anything. If he can avoid the eyes of the Cowled Wizards, I doubt he would find hiding from mere citizens any feat- Cernd, what are you doing?' Jaheira questioned as she turned to see Cernd a few paces away at the end of the quays staring down at something in the harbour below.

'Cernd?' she called again, though he appeared not to hear her, the druid moving to disappear down the stone steps at the end of the quays. Jaheira was on her feet an instant later, Fritha and Minsc at her heels as they followed him to the edge, gazing down the flight of steps to find Cernd stood on the sloped wooden jetty beneath which ran a short way along the wall, the water of low tide lapping at the lower edge, while up against the harbour wall a silt bank had been formed by the changing tides, fine black mud pushing up through the wooden slats.

'Cernd?' Jaheira called again as she made her way down the steps to join him, 'Cernd have you found something?'

'Perhaps,' he answered slowly, the man gazing up at the wall behind them and as Jaheira reached him, she finally saw why. The outline of a huge archway was set in bricks just above the tide line, the area beneath it bricked-up now, a solid wall of stone a shade lighter than the rest of the wall, though it had clearly been a doorway at some point in the past.

'Of course!' he exclaimed suddenly, stooping to press his finger into the mud that caked the slats beneath their feet, the man touching it to his tongue.

'Cernd!' squealed Fritha, looking revolted.

'It tastes of soap, just like the mud from the footprint at the murder scene. This place, Meck told you it was a factory, yes?'

Jaheira was nodding slowly, an understanding dawning behind her eyes. 'It was a soap factory; where better to situated it, where the whalemeat needed could be brought straight here to be rendered.'

'So, Valygar was here then, on this jetty… Then where does this fit?' asked Fritha, holding up the key, the group casting about them when-

'There,' said Minsc, pointing further along the jetty, Fritha following his hand to an iron door to the right of the larger doorway and flush with the wall, small and plain enough to be easily overlooked.

The sense of expectation mounted as they walked, until they were there before the door, all crowded in about the girl as she place the key in the lock and slowly turned it, the tense silence finally broken by a smooth run of clicks.

Fritha's voice was unusually hushed. 'It's open.'

The was no handle, the girl merely placing a hand against the rusted metal, the door swinging open with an easy silence that spoke of frequent use and Jaheira leaned over the threshold to see a narrow set of stone steps spiralling up in to the gloom, the first few coated with mud and algae from the monthly spring tides.

Cernd frowned. 'Do you think we should wait for Anomen?'

Fritha shook her head, eyes lit with a fierce anticipation.

'No. We'll go up now and try to surprise him. Jaheira and I will enter first, Minsc and Cernd come in afterwards, but remain on the stairs unless we get in trouble, I don't want him getting past us.' She glanced to Jaheira, 'Ready?'

The druid nodded and slowly the girl drew her sword and they began their ascent, the stairs coiling upwards for at least two floors before they finally reached a plain wooden door, the stairs that would have continued upwards suddenly bricked off, likely blocked when the building was renovated. Jaheira put an ear to the door, but apart from the distant roar of the ocean and the light breathing of those about her, she could hear nothing.

She shook her head at Fritha, the girl adjusting her grip on her sword, her other hand twisting the handle and the door swung silently open to reveal a sunlit room packed with a half empty bookcase, a large desk and a wardrobe; a narrow pallet set against the wall behind them almost as an afterthought. Though all this was secondary, for the first thing anyone would notice as they entered was the sheer confusion of books and papers that covered the floor, scattering the desk and even the bed. Another doorway was set in the wall to their right and Jaheira crept towards it only to find a smaller room that was devoid of any furnishings or even the mess of the first and holding only two crates, both stacked untidily with books.

'No, there is no one here,' she confirmed, lowering her staff as she turned back to the others.

Fritha sighed, moving forward as well to make more room for the men behind her. 'What is this place?'

'It was likely some sort of office or temporary storeroom used to load waiting ships,' offered Cernd, gazing about the room as though hoping to find some evidence of it. 'Yes, you can still see the hole in the roof timbers where the crane must have been, and that was likely the loading aperture,' he continued, pointing to an uneven patch of bricks under a lintel in the lower part of the eastern wall. Fritha nodded, turning back to the room.

'Well, whatever it was used for, it looks to have been ransacked.'

'Not quite,' corrected Jaheira, casting a critical eye over the mess, 'There is no sign of any forced entry and the wardrobe is empty. Someone was definitely in a hurry to leave here though,' she drew a finger across the shelf behind her and wiped the dust off on her sleeve, 'and their departure was not recent either.'

'Oh Hells, so he could still be anywhere then?' Fritha sighed deeply, 'Well, there's enough parchment strewn about here. Perhaps one of them holds some clue. Right, Minsc, Cernd, you return to the inn –hopefully you'll run into Anomen and Meck on the way. Jaheira and I will make a search of this place, and join you all soon.'

A moment to wait for the men to move off and Fritha turned back to the mess before her, dropping to a crouch in amongst the papers. Jaheira knelt as well, sifting through the chaos of notes, diagrams and pages upon pages of magical equations, hoping something would catch her eye. She glanced to the girl next to her, Fritha frowning as she tried to decipher some strange-looking symbols. This was the first opportunity they had had to speak since the argument, and she was very aware that time was running out if she was to bring the girls to a reconciliation.

'You know Aerie left for the circus mere moments after you did…' Jaheira sent her a measured look, 'She seemed very upset.'

Fritha snorted dully, swapping the parchment she was examining for a large black bound book.

'Yes, I'm crying her that river.'

'Fritha, I know-'

'Look, Jaheira, we could be about to find the location of the fugitive that will finally secure Imoen's release, as far as I am concerned, we have better things to talk about than _Aerie_.'

Jaheira swallowed, very aware of the huge sandstone building that stood but a few hundred yards from them at the other end of the quays. 'Fritha, now is not the time to be revelling in such discord -you are our leader; people look to you and expect to see the calm responsible demeanour that such a position warrants.'

Fritha glanced up, her eyes narrowed. 'And when did _you_ suddenly begin to care what _people_ expect?'

Jaheira faltered, unable to voice the worries she had spent so long denying. More pressing concerns forestalled her reply though, a somewhat rough female voice drifting up the stairwell.

'Oi, what are you two doing here?'

Cernd's voice, calm and civil answered the woman.

'Just looking for the Wyndward Warehouse, I was told it was in the far east of the docks. It is not around here?'

Fritha hissed a curse, for a moment so angry she felt she could have screamed; was _nothing_ simple?

'Quickly, in here,' whispered Jaheira urgently, the pair leaping up to bundle themselves into the open wardrobe, Fritha's fingers gripped awkwardly about the lock and holding the door to; the _last_ thing they needed was to get locked in.

'I don't like this, Arvind. That door should have been locked, and those two blokes looked suss too. And- Besheba's Horns!' the woman's voice exclaimed as she finally reached the room. Her accent was that of the local area and broad with it, and Fritha was surprised when a dark-skinned young woman of Calimshite decent cross her narrow field of view, 'What in the Hells has happened in here?'

'Gods!' came another voice, male this time and sounding just as surprised as his companion. 'I know Valygar said he deliberately ransacked the place in case it was discovered, but to this extent? Do you think the Cowled Wizards have found this place? If they have that diary…' The speaker stepped forward, further into the room, the man tall and fair from what she could see of him and Fritha felt her heart groan, her arm instinctively tightening about the book she still held to her chest.

'If they had found _anything_ we'd know about it,' the woman reassured him, and Arvind sighing deeply.

'I know, but with finding the door open… That book contains all Lavok's notes concerning the sphere. If the mages have got hold of it they might be able to find another way to summon the thing or even build one of their own –Come on, spread out, we'll have to search for it.'

The floorboards creaked as someone crossed to the window.

'Arvind, those blokes are still hanging around out there.'

'Damn it!' Arvind cursed vehemently, 'It's no good. All right, you go and get Gaine and Haru and come straight back here and burn the lot, all the notes everything; we can't risk any of it falling in to the wrong hands. I'll set out for Umar right away, tell Valygar what's what and see if he needs any more supplies before the winter sets in; it can get really bad in those northern hills and he's far enough from Imnesvale to be unable to make the journey regularly.'

'Right, those two look to have gone; it seems as though they've given up, for now at least.'

'Good, I'll see you in a tenday, Sangeeta.'

They leaned in to kiss and Fritha felt rather uncomfortable, the girl letting her gaze drop, all her focus on her fingers and the pain aching through them as she kept the door wedged closed.

'Be careful, Arvind.'

'You too, my love.'

The sound of footsteps and the front door slammed shut. Fritha watched as the woman, Sangeeta, moved back in to view, crouching to sift half-heartedly through a few of the scattered papers before giving up as well, straightening with a sigh and Fritha heard the door slam a second time. She waited a few moments more, her heart beating heavily, before she pushed the door wide, stepping out into the sunlit room, the muted clamour of the docks unchanged outside the window, the world carrying on about her, unaware of her swelling sense of hope.

He was in Umar.

xxx

Everything was explained and planned in but a moment, an unnerving contrast to the time the actual search for the man had taken, and Fritha was marching them back through the slums at a pace even Minsc was struggling to match. Jaheira hurried along, feet pounding on the packed earth and gravel of the street, her stomach a twisted knot; she had spent so long avoiding the Harpers, the idea they could leave before their summons came was making her anxious. What if left they and Galvarey believed it was deliberate? Another attempt to keep him from the girl would just make things worse in long run and Jaheira was torn between trying to get word to them herself or hanging back and leaving it all to the Fates.

'Anomen, you're here,' came Fritha's voice ahead of her, Jaheira surprised to find herself already before the open door of the Coronet, Anomen glancing up and looking alarmed by their abrupt appearance.

'Yes, my lady, why is there a prob-'

'Ah, there-' came a voice behind them, Meck suddenly stood in the doorway they had only just left. 'Oh, Lady Patron,' he continued with surprise as he noticed them, 'how were it, m'lady?'

'The house was empty, but we've found another location for him. Thank you for your help, Meck'

'Not a problem, m'lady.'

He dipped a quick bow and was gone, the four turning back to the table as Anomen demanded, 'What is going on?'

Fritha was quick with her answer.

'We've found Valygar. I sent Meck to temple to find you, but…'

'My prayers did not keep me there long,' he explained promptly, 'so have you any news? You told the boy we've a location.'

'Indeed we have, we found his hideout within the city and while we were there, two of his company arrived. We overheard them talking: Valygar is hiding out in the hills somewhere north of Imnesvale. We leave first thing tomorrow -we are going to the Promenade now for supplies.'

'Is Aerie still at the circus?' asked Jaheira, Fritha seemingly losing interest in the conversation as she stooped to tidy her bootlaces.

'I have not seen her return,' offered Anomen as he gathered up his belongings.

Jaheira nodded. 'Well, we can fetch her once we arrive.'

Fritha snorted but said nothing she could hear.

xxx

Aerie sighed, leaning closer to Minsc as another shopper jostled past her, the stout woman too preoccupied to even notice her as she continued to upbraid the mulish young boy she was dragging in her wake. Her return had been strained; Yasmine peeking her friendly face around the curtains to tell them her group were waiting for her outside and Aerie had bid farewell to her uncle and those of her friends who were still eating a very late breakfast and had reluctantly gone to join them.

As Quayle had spent the last couple of hours reassuring her, her worries had been misplaced, though perhaps not entirely. Cernd, Minsc and even Anomen had greeted her return with welcoming smiles, though Jaheira had managed no more than a civil nod and Fritha had simply ignored her, merely talking to the group as whole as she had told them what supplies they required and divided the tasks amongst them, the girl leaving it to Minsc to explain about their discovery concerning the fugitive as Aerie and he headed for the western steps. They had been tasked with buying the cured meats, waybreads and other dried foodstuffs that would make up their rations for the journey to Umar. The best stall for such produce was the furthest from the rest, right out of the Promenade in the western plaza, but it had not been busy and they had finished their shopping first, the pair returning to where they had arranged to meet at the eastern end of the Promenade not far from circus tent she so longed to hide within.

Fritha was not far from them either, the girl stood before a stall but a few yards away, laughing and chattering with a merchant as they haggled over the price, a light-hearted face to that subtle serious business. And it seemed Fritha had won that bout, the merchant finally giving a smile that seemed more wry than calculated and nodding once, and Fritha was rummaging in her bag for her coin purse, Aerie about the make a comment as to the speed of the transaction when another passing shopper caught her shoulder.

The woman whirled back to her and Aerie was suddenly face to face with dark-skinned girl of a comparable age to herself, her bright eyes deep-set and as black as the long shiny curtain of hair that was tidied away into the hood of her travelling robes.

'Your pardon, I did not-' she began, the apology dying on her lips as the girl was suddenly transfixed by Minsc, something about the way she was staring up at him showing the elf it was not just the usual attention he received for his sheer size.

'What is your delay, Emurra?' called a commanding voice behind her and Aerie, for the first time, noticed her two companions: another girl of similar age and colouring though perhaps slightly prettier, and a much older woman who was clutching a staff, her hair now white with her many years, her swarthy face lined and creased like an old apple.

'Forgive me, Hath- ah, _Elder _Yundra but…'

The girl trailed off meekly, no need for any further explanation, it seemed, the white-haired woman transfixed as she had been, her eyes lingering on the striking violet tattoos that adorned his head and, to Aerie's surprise, Minsc began to flush red.

'You are a Rashemi,' said the woman eventually and it was not a question, 'You are accompanying a Wychlaran on her Dajemma, yes? Your markings clearly show it. Where is your witch?' she asked, suddenly casting about him, her eyes resting for the briefest moment on Aerie.

'Oh, it is not I,' the elf hastened to assure her.

'_Truly?_' sneered the other young woman who had been silent all this while and Aerie joined Minsc in his blush. Elder Yundra sent the girl a stern look.

'_Hulmeira_… I ask you again, brother: where is your witch?'

Minsc swallowed, his throat bobbing though his voice was steady as he answered her. 'Forgive me, sister, but my witch, she- she is dead.'

'And you still _live_?' gasped Emurra, though she looked more astounded than appalled. Hulmeira on the other hand…

'You _failed_ to protect her?' she cried so loudly that people nearby turned at the noise. Minsc's blush intensified as he rumbled, 'That is so, sister.'

Elder Yundra stared up at him with an unrelenting look and for the first time of Aerie's knowing him, Minsc looked cowed.

'If you failed to protect her, you should have returned home in shame to face the consequences, not be hiding from them here amongst these foreigners.'

Minsc said nothing, merely bowed his head and Aerie felt her indignation swell.

'He is _not_ hiding! He is helping someone. He- he had sworn to rescue-'

'His duty was to his witch! He swore to protect her or die in the attempt!' interrupted Hulmeira. Aerie ignored her.

'He is sworn to rescue an ally and is in pursuit of the mage who took his witch's life- Minsc, say something!'

'Who was your witch?' asked Emurra quietly.

Minsc did not look up as he answered, 'Dynaheir of Mulptan.'

'I have not heard her name ere this day, but I will carry it and news of her passing to those who have,' said Elder Yunda gravely.

Hulmeira shook her head pityingly, 'What angry spirit's umbrage cursed her with such a poor protector?'

'Any witch would be proud to have Minsc as their guardian!' snapped Aerie.

'Clearly _some_ witches have to,' Hulmeira retorted with a sneer that indicated that she did not think much of either of them.

'Enough, Hulmeira!' said Elder Yundra sharply, the first time the older woman had raised her voice and Aerie felt the hairs on her neck prickle; there was power in her. The young witch immediately dipped her face, hands pocketed in either sleeve in a stance of instant deference as Yundra returned her attention to Minsc, her manner serene once more.

'It is right that you pursue the one who murdered your witch and take his life, but do not assume that this act alone will purge you of your failure. Only when you return to our homeland and face the judgement of the Wychlaran can you truly began to find atonement; do not be delayed in seeking it. I wish you good hunting.'

And with that they were gone, Elder Yundra turning on her heel to continued her path west across the busy marketplace, people hastening to get out of her path in a way they never would have for Aerie, the two younger women hurrying in her wake. The elf turned instantly back to the ranger at her side, Minsc still looking wholly abashed.

'Who were they?'

'I am thinking, and Boo agrees, they were a hathran and her two blethran wards; the proud witches of my homeland. They are often known to travel past our boarders to learn more of the world, especially in their youth. Just as Dynaheir once did…' He trailed off, looking deeply sad, Aerie suddenly angry that those women had dared make one as kind as he feel so ashamed.

'But, but how can they say all that to you? They don't know what happened. You did all you could-'

'Do not make a fuss, little Aerie, they are right. Boo and I know their words have truth, have always known it. We will take our vengeance on Irenicus but we have failed our witch, and our honour never will be free of that stain.'

'But-'

He sent her an unusually stern look and Aerie could tell this meeting was not something Minsc wanted to discuss further. She sighed and determinedly held her tongue as Cernd and Anomen appeared from the crowds before them, the four exchanging mumbled greetings, Jaheira moving to help Fritha as the merchant passed over her goods, the women finally joining them a moment later, Fritha's chainmail chiming with each step.

'Right, is that everyone finished?' she asked absently, still struggling to push the last of her purchases into her already overfull bag. A murmur of unenthusiastic assent. 'Good. Well, I suppose we should see about getting something by way of lunch.'

'Well, since we are here, we could dine in the Mithrest,' offered Anomen, hoping to lift this somewhat gloomy atmosphere. Jaheira sent the well-kept frontage behind them a frown.

'No, I do not think so.'

'If it is a matter of the coin, my lady, then I will glad-'

'I said no, Anomen! I will not take my meal surrounded by the mindless clamour of Athkatla's rich and foolish!'

'Jaheira,' came Fritha, not shocked or reproachful, but the bland flat tone of one only interrupting from a sense of obligation and Anomen felt all the more stung. The druid heeded her all the same, dipping her head as she continued, 'I- my apologies, Anomen.'

'Come on,' sighed Fritha, turning to head towards the western steps and together the group trudged back to the slums.

The common room of the Coronet was busy, a group of what looked to be mercenaries in the corner and already drunk, the men roaring at the maid for more ale and Anomen had to bite his tongue against a comment at the distinguished company they were now taking their meal in. He doubted he would have been much heeded anyway, the frayed tempers of before leaving the group quiet and introspective. Fritha was staring into her dish with unfocused eyes, every now and then glancing to her bag and nodding imperceptibly to herself, as though mentally checking off all they would need for the morrow and as for the druid...

Jaheira had not spoken since her outburst in the Promenade and the only times she lifted her head from her dish from that moment on, were when the tavern door would open and she would glance sharply to it in a way that put him on edge, and Anomen was almost relieved when the door banged open once more, a messenger marching straight to their table to hand the druid a letter. The table watched, no one speaking as she read it over at least twice before placing it in her pocket and pushing back her chair.

'My presence is required elsewhere. Fritha, your attendance is also… _requested_.'

'Me?'

Jaheira glanced to the girl, something of the uncertain to her look and in Anomen's opinion something that was far more worrying than any of her displays of temper had been.

'Yes, is- is that a problem?'

It clearly wasn't, Fritha shrugging once, dipping to gather her bag from the floor at her feet, if curious about Jaheira's request she was not showing it. But Fritha's apathy did not extend to the rest of them, Aerie glancing between the women with a frown.

'What? Where are you both going?'

Jaheira threw her cloak about her shoulders, not even looking to her as she answered. 'To meet with some associates of mine. We shall return here later.'

'Should we not attend as well, my lady?' Anomen pressed, something about the woman's manner unnerving him.

Jaheira shook her head.

'No, that will…' she paused, the shadow of something flickering behind her eyes, before she turned back to them, 'Yes, I- I cannot see why not.'

Aerie raised a shrewd eyebrow. 'So, does that mean you'll tell us were we're headed?'

Jaheira was half-turned to go, a ghost of a smile gracing her features as she swung her cloak about her shoulders.

'We are going to meet with others of my number –at the Athkatla Harper Hold.'

--

The docks were cold, a chill wind blowing in from the sea as the group stood waiting on the quays before the large sandstone building where they had delivered the poisoned man so many months before. Though Anomen had suspected the druid was a member of some covert group just by her actions -the way she would sometimes disappear off on errands she refused to explain, he had still been surprised to learn Jaheira was of the Harpers. That disorganised and secretive group, working tirelessly to Faerûn's benefit, or merely meddling in its affairs depending on to whom you spoke. And he was not alone in his surprise either, Cernd and Aerie sharing a whispered conversation as they waited, though it did not appear to be a revelation for those who had known her longer, Fritha and Minsc stood side by side in silence. As for the Harper herself, Jaheira was at the doors now, talking to someone behind the grille who seemed reluctant to allow them all entry, though he finally relented, the door swinging back as Jaheira turned to beckon them forward.

The room they entered reminded Anomen of the Order's Great Hall, large and airy, though this was far more opulent, marble columns stretching up to a distant ceiling where small crystals hung, suspended by some magic and glowing softly, providing the room with light in the absence of any windows. A half dozen or so Harpers were milling about it, all watching them with a guarded look and Anomen could not help but notice they were all armed, hands twitching over their weapons as though they had been warned to expect trouble. Their group were immediately ushered over to stand a few paces from the doors, only Jaheira and Fritha allowed to continue on further into the room.

To one side a desk had been placed, an older grey-haired man in robes sat behind it while next to him was stood a man of about Anomen's age, tall and lean with a shock of dark brown hair. He was deep in conversation with the older man, though he glanced up at their arrival, smiling as he crossed to greet the druid.

'Ah, Jaheira, you have come as we asked and you have brought her –and everyone else you know as well, by the look of it.'

Jaheira raised a stern eyebrow. 'Was I not to, Galvarey? Your note did not specify.'

Galvarey smiled tightly and shook his head.

'No, no, it matters not, this is no interrogation, just an informal interview to assuage any lingering reservations held by the seniors. Perhaps your companions would be more comfortable waiting in the common room?'

Anomen shifted where he was stood, ready to protest this, though Jaheira got there before him, sending the Harper a pointed look. 'I am sure they are fine where they are.'

A pause, the tension between them almost palpable before Galvarey dipped his head in acquiescence, turning his attention instead to the girl next to her.

'As you wish. Ah, and you must be the young lady who I've heard so much about; Fritha, is it not?'

The girl nodded once, her face impassive. 'Well met, sir.'

Galvarey's smile broadened and Anomen felt an unease stir in his stomach.

'Ah, and so charming too, who could have predicted it? Has Jaheira explained to you why you are here. No? Well, allow me to oblige you. The Harpers serve the greater balance and as such we find ourselves concerned about the motivations of the young woman who is so cutting a path along the Sword Coast. So it was proposed, and Jaheira agreed, that you were to be questioned on your motives that we may lay any concerns we have to rest. Reasonable enough?'

Fritha shrugged, sending a chary glance to Jaheira as she answered, 'I suppose.'

'Excellent. Will you have a seat?'

Fritha sent another look to Jaheira, but moved to sink onto the low bench before the desk as she was asked. Galvarey smiled, moving to stand beside the seated man.

'Now, this is Ramas, a sage of our number who is to evaluate your answers and perhaps let us ascertain the logic behind them.'

Fritha sighed, turning an annoyed frown on the druid behind her. 'Jaheira?'

The druid stepped forward, frowning herself.

'Really, Galvarey, is this necessary? I thought you just wished to speak with her.'

The Harper laughed. 'And what would be the point in that, when she has charmed you all so completely? Surely you realised that this would be required when you agreed to bring her here, Jaheira? Goodness, we discussed it often enough.'

Jaheira flushed, Fritha's face suddenly stony as she turned back to the desk without another word. Ramas smiled, narrow-eyed and anguine.

'Hello, Fritha, now something simple to begin with, I think; may I inquire as to your favourite colour?'

The girl blinked owlishly. 'Sorry?'

'What has _that_ to do with anything?' interrupted Jaheira sharply, Galvarey sending her a quelling glare.

'As I said _before,_ we are hoping to get a glimpse into the unconscious mind. Now if you would just answer the questions, Fritha, with the first thing that comes to you.'

Fritha sighed. 'All right then, blue.'

Ramas nodded wisely, making note of something in the ledger before him.

'Ah, blue: the colour of grief and tears.'

She snorted. 'Yes, and my tunic. Can we hurry up here, please, I have quite a bit to do today.'

Ramas barely glanced up from the ledger.

'Hmm, becomes riled when questioned in the most minor of matters. Very interesting. Now on to my next; Fritha, what is your earliest memory?'

The girl sent him a tight smile. 'Well, I recall walking through that door back there, but before that is just a blur. Sorry.'

'Fritha!' cried Jaheira, a slight desperation creeping in to her tone, the sage shaking his head as he continued to write.

'Hmm, you are very antagonistic. Not good. Not good at all.'

'Fritha, please, just answer their questions!'

The girl sighed again and more deeply this time, scrubbing a hand across her face.

'It is the day I arrived in Candlekeep. I am in the gardens staring into one of the fountains by the main keep. Gorion and Ulraunt are stood at the top of the steps. They're arguing. I can't hear what they are saying, but I know it is about me. That's all I remember.'

'Interesting,' said Ramas, finally glancing up from his ledger, 'So your first memories are of discord, anger, hatred. Hmm, that explains much. Now, my next question: have you violent thoughts, Fritha?'

'You_ what?_'

'Galvarey!' shouted Jaheira, the man ignoring her to demand, 'Just answer the question!'

Fritha turned a defiant glare upon him.

'That question is unfair. Violence is a part of our world, it is unavoidable!'

'So you find violence _unavoidable_?' prompted Ramas. Fritha gave a hollow bitter laugh.

'Well, it certainly feels like it some days.'

Fritha had seemingly had quite enough of this inquisition, making to stand once more, Anomen and the others moving instinctively to join her and the Harpers about the room seemed to close in as well, gathering at Galvarey's back; the battle lines were being drawn. Jaheira forced herself between the two groups, looking almost desperate.

'Galvarey, I demand you put a stop to this- this farce immediately! Fritha did not mean it that way, this man is twisting her words. I brought her here for you to see her as she is, not as you would believe her to be.'

Galvarey shook his head, unmoved it seemed. 'And how can you tell what she is, Jaheira, when deception is a very part of her being? Can you comprehend the thoughts of an illithid or beholder? She is akin to these.'

'Only in your mind!'

'What- what are you both talking about?' came a tentative voice and Anomen glance to his side to find Aerie watching the pair argue with a confused look. Of course, Fritha must not have told her…

Galvarey turned to the elf as well, suddenly smiling in a look of cruel delight.

'_Oho_, have the lies been spun to even ones so close to you? Lament, elf, for the one you have followed so loyally all this while is none other than one of the Children, or, as they are more commonly known, a Bhaalspawn.'

Aerie whirled instantly to Fritha. 'You- you're _a Bhaalspawn?_'

'Yes, and the fact that I didn't _ever_ mention said heritage to Haer'Dalis should tell you more than first memories and favourite colours ever will!'

A look Anomen could not read seemed to pass between the girls and Aerie turned her attention back to Galvarey without a word, Jaheira attempting again to resolve the stand off.

'Galvarey this is not our way, as Harpers-'

'As Harpers,' he interrupted loudly, 'we have a greater duty to maintain the balance. How can you, as a Harper _and _a druid, sanction the freedom of this girl? Chaos and destruction are in her very blood.'

'But not in her will! She is good! Her presence restore the balance destroyed by the others of her kind.'

Galvarey snorted disdainfully. 'Restores the balance? As she did for Delthyr?'

'_Galvarey!_' Jaheira shrieked as though the man had invoked the name of Khalid himself. Anomen glanced to Fritha; the girl was white, her look of defiance replaced by a sudden blankness of expression.

'You understand, do you not?' Galvarey continued, his voice softer now, ignoring the druid to move closer to the girl and Anomen could not help but step up behind her. 'How your very presence in the world endangers those around you, all lives you touch, however briefly. Why, even those who travelled with you-'

'How _dare_ you rake up the past like this!' Jaheira shrieked, Minsc stepping forward ready to restrain her and Anomen took the moment to lay a hand upon Fritha's shoulder. She glanced to him, her face no more expressive than when she had stared blankly back at Galvarey and he felt his stomach tighten.

'Enough of this,' continued Galvarey coldly, 'It has been decided the risk is too great. Fritha, you are to be… confined.'

The girl whipped back to him, a sneering smile suddenly twisting her face. 'And where am I to be locked away? I do hope it is somewhere with a view.'

Galvarey enjoyed the slightest of smiles.

'You mistake me, Fritha, there will be no walls to confine you other than the ones woven by my mages. We cannot kill you -to do so would merely free the dark essence that rests within you, allowing Bhaal one step closer to his goal. No, I speak of an imprisonment to contain the very chaos you would sow, however unintentionally. Just a short ritual and you will spend the rest of your existence in a small container a few leagues beneath the earth. Quite peaceful, so I'm told.'

Anomen found his mace suddenly in hand, his grip about the handle so firm his knuckles were white. Fritha was practically shaking, her look wild.

'You,_ you-_',she breathed as though she could not think of a word horrible enough for him, 'I will _die_ before I submit to this!'

Galvarey sighed.

'That is unfortunate, but not unexpected. Jaheira your orders are clear, as are mine: by the will of the Harpers and for the greater good this girl is to be confined. The rest of your companions are free to go.'

'We go nowhere without Fritha!' roared Minsc, Jaheira nodding firmly.

'It is as he says.'

Galvarey whirled to her, seemingly astounded. 'You would go against the will of the Harpers to stand by this- this _monstrosity_?'

Jaheira stared back at him, unwavering. 'You are wrong, Galvarey, and I will not aid you in this injustice.'

'Very well. I was hoping to avoid bloodshed, but as you will. Kill them all, take the girl!'

The Harpers closed in about them, Galvarey stepping back perhaps hoping to avoid a fight himself, though it seemed Fritha had other ideas about that. The girl ignored Jaheira's cry to dive for him, the Harpers before her suddenly finding out how difficult it was to take someone alive, especially one who knew you could not hurt them, Fritha swinging her sword at anything within reach as she cleared her path to the man.

The others she had left were not so fortunate though. Anomen brought his shield up, guarding against another sword thrust from the grim looking woman before him, the knight countering with a rather feeble uppercut with his mace which she easily blocked. The Harpers had surrounded them an instant after Fritha had fought through their lines, their own group forced back to back, pressed in so close he had not enough room to swing properly and a place from him he could see Minsc was having the same trouble. The ranger was fairing better than he though, his greatsword brought up, one gloved hand at the hilt the other on the blade itself as he wielded it spear-like at his opponent's face and shoulders, keeping the man constantly on the defensive. Anomen blocked another attack with his shield. Though hardly fairing well himself, he wished he knew how Fritha was, but the girl had disappeared somewhere behind him and he could not risk letting his guard down for a glance back to find her, his only comfort the fact that bastard, Galvarey, had wanted her alive.

Fritha did not let her eyes leave the man for an instant as she upturned the desk Galvarey had been trying to keep between them, Ramas diving out from where he had been cowering underneath it and running for the stairs, Fritha barely sparing him a glance, all her focus on the man before her.

'Why so reticent, Galvarey? You wanted to capture the _evil Bhaalspawn_ and show your masters what a good little Harper you are. Well, now's your chance to _earn_ that glory.'

Galvarey's eyes narrowed, the man at last drawing the sword at his hip, the blade long and unusually thin, a blue sheen to the metal.

'You think I am defenceless, Bhaalspawn?' he sneered, adjusting his grip on the sword as they began to circle one another. 'I said you had to be taken alive, I did not say you needed to be _whole_.'

'You'll have me dead or not at all!' she screamed back, leaping forward, her sword at shoulder height as she swung at him with a vigour that stung her hand as he parried the move, her blade forced downward to crash against the tiles at her feet. She was slightly stooped now, her sword under his, Galvarey taking advantage of this and bringing his blade up to slash across her face, Fritha shifting her weight to dodge the sweep and barrelling into him, forcing her shoulder into his chest to send him staggering back a step.

'Still want me alive?' she spat, her only answer a vicious thrust to her shoulder, Fritha moving to dodge the blow, though she was not quite fast enough, the point piercing the links of her chainmail, the chainshirt riding up as the blade slid over her shoulder slicing through the flesh. Fritha screamed, though more from her fury that the burning pain that suddenly sang along her arm, the girl making a thrust of her own at his open stomach. With his sword still caught, it was all Galvarey could do to sweep her blade to the side with his free arm, his vanbrace not quite sparing him as she opened a long wound across his forearm and they both leapt back, panting as they circled each other once more.

Anomen watched the woman before him carefully weighing up her next attack as he tried to remain focused enough to do the same. He had heard Fritha's scream not long ago, the sound of it piercing right through him and he had been fighting ever since to keep him mind on the battle before him. At his back, Aerie was trying to call another spell, the close confines she had to work in, pressed inside their small circle of bodies, doing nothing for her casting. It seemed she was managing this time though, a crackling ice-blue charge building between her hands to bathe all around her in a fierce white light.

'Someone get on the witch!' came the roar from somewhere behind him, and Anomen heard the elf herself yelp an instant later, though he was not given time to contemplate what had caught her, his hair and skin suddenly pricking with static as the spell she had been weaving exploded, the energies surging outwards through the bodies surrounding her in a blinding flash. Anomen saw his chance, ignoring the jolting of burning pain as the charge ran through him to take advantage of his momentarily stunned opponent, knocking aside her feeble parry to thrust the edge of his shield into her throat, the women staggering back a step and finally giving him enough room to take a decent swing at her, his mace connecting with the side of her head with a force that rendered her helmet useless, the knight immediately stepping over her body to engage the man at her side and Anomen felt a rush of exhilaration as the battle finally turned.

Galvarey parried another thrust, sharply slapping her blade away with his own to make a slash at her knee, her shoulder aching as Fritha quickly leapt back swinging her sword up into a close guard as they continued to circle one another. Her was tunic clinging unpleasantly to her skin beneath her chainmail where the warm blood was soaking into the fabric, a narrow trickle making it all the way down her arm, her sword hilt growing slick in her hand.

Galvarey lunged forward, taking another swipe at her wounded shoulder, Fritha dropping her sword into a back guard and stepping into the attack, past his blade to swing up at his chest the tip just scoring his armour as Galvarey changed direction at the last moment to make an unanticipated slash at her throat. Fritha leapt back just in time, caught out by this change in stance; taking her alive was clearly no longer the _only_ option. In the haste of her retreat, her footing was all wrong, her weight too far back, Galvarey already pressing his attack, the man bringing his sword back in the opposite direction for another slash at her head to end the thing, Fritha ducking awkwardly under his blade, throwing all her weight forward to make one final desperate thrust at him, forcing her blade up through his chest, leather armour and all.

She could not hold him on his feet, the man collapsing to the floor to take her sword with him and Fritha had to brace a foot against his body as she eventually heaved it free, Jaheira rushing over as the battle behind her ended as well.

'Fritha, are you unharmed?'

'An _Imprisonment _spell?' Fritha shrieked, ignoring her question to whirl on the woman, her fury evident.

'I had no idea they would do this, I swear!'

'But you knew they were not to be trusted, didn't you? _Didn't you?_ That's why you had us all attend, isn't it? I heard Galvarey: been discussing this for _weeks_, haven't you? You _knew_ Galvarey was going to try something like this and you brought me here anyway.'

Jaheira looked stricken, reaching a tentative hand out to her. 'Fritha, I-'

The girl leapt back.

'Don't you touch me, don't you _dare!_'

For a moment they stood, Jaheira still with a hand hovering halfway to her, Fritha staring back at her, somewhere between defiant and distraught, when the girl turned on her heel and stalked from the hall.

'Fritha!'

Jaheira hurried to catch her, Minsc stepping in to place an arm across her shoulders, barring her way.

'Let young Fritha go, Jaheira. Only things you will both regret will pass between you if she stays.'

'But…' the druid protested weakly before she seemed to sag in his arms, gently shrugging the ranger off to turn, gazing distractedly over the carnage about her, her brethren fallen at her feet, dead by her hand.

xxx

Anomen moved through the dusty gloom of the backstage, following the directions Higgold had given him, the director's imperious commands drifting after him as the man continued to oversee the rehearsal that was currently in progress upon the stage. The remainder of their group had headed straight back to the Coronet at first to await the inevitable fallout, but as more time had gone on it had become clear that the city guards would not be arriving to arrest or even question them and Anomen left the others at the tavern to attend temple and try to find an inner calm before he set out for the one place he believed Fritha could be, her list of possible havens greatly reduced in number of late.

The steps to the flies were before him now and he ascended them, the girl slowly revealed as he climbed, Fritha sat at the opposite end of the long walkway, her feet over dangling over the edge and arms resting upon the rails as she started down at the stage, one hand red with the dried blood that had seeped down from the wound in her shoulder. Anomen paused as the railing creaked under his hand, Fritha clearly hearing it though she seemed to know who it would be and did not glance up as she spoke.

'Do you think you can look back on your life and find the exact moment when it all started to go horribly wrong?'

Anomen felt his heart twist, the pain sudden and sharp enough to make him wince.

'Fritha-'

'Don't. Don't tell me everything will be all right, Anomen; we both know it won't. That's enough now, Higgold, perhaps a break is in order,' she called to those below her, Higgold glancing up to nod once, ushering the players from the stage.

'Come along, you heard the Lady Patron, you all need to look over your lines more anyway. Meck, tell Samuel to send down another few carafes of his small ale.'

Anomen swallowed, wondering if she meant to dismiss him as well, though he had no intention of leaving, the man just standing there until he felt self-conscious enough to take the last few step and sink down beside her, the silence between them broken only by the gentle rumble of the patrons in the tavern above. He had so much in his heart, so much he wanted to say to reassure her and ease her misery, but he knew how it would come out; just words, empty of the feelings he so wished to express and in the end it jut all boiled down to a question.

'Who was Delthyr?'

'A half-elven Harper who sought me out upon my return to the Gate, after we were framed for the murders at Candlekeep. He warned me that our contact at the Flaming Fist, Scar, had been assassinated and that our other ally in the city, Duke Eltan, had taken to his bed with some serious illness. We met for only a few moments at most…' She shook her head, somewhere else a moment before glancing to him at last, a certain steel creeping into her manner.

'He was killed, Anomen, captured by Scar's less than loyal replacement and once he refused to tell them what he knew of me, they murdered him.'

She turned slightly, knees brought up and arms wrapped about herself as though cold, her eyes gaining a distant look and she was almost smiling as she continued. 'He was so young, so earnest… it's strange what you remember, isn't it? His eyes shone like black pearls in the gloom of the bar and he kissed my hand as we parted; no one had ever done that before…'

'Fritha, you did not kill him,' Anomen said with conviction, wishing very much she would look at him and having to fight the urge to grab her shoulders and make her. But in the end, she glanced to him anyway, the hardness back to her eyes.

'He died because of me, Anomen, I accept that. Do not mistake me. I do not blame myself, _I _did not kill him. But he did die _because_ of me and I will not shy from the weight of that knowledge; I would not dishonour his memory.'

A silence fell between them again, Anomen turning to stare down at the stage as she was. The place felt strange so empty, putting him in mind of the deserted ruins of forts and outposts he had sometimes come up on his campaigns with the Order; the dead relics of long defeated armies, chilled with ghosts and memories.

'Who was the first person you killed?'

Anomen glanced to her sharply at the question, Fritha sending him an unreadable look in the gloom and he shrugged absently as though he could not recall such a trivial thing. But she levelled that ever-even gaze at him and he at last answered, his voice feeling oddly hoarse.

'A mercenary, some years older than myself. He was serving with an orc tribe who were raiding villages on the northern edge of the Cloudpeaks. The Order were sent to rout them, though I was not among their number then. I was with a company of priests sent from my seminary to tend the wounded when the village in which we were stationed came under attack.'

Fritha nodded absently. 'Yes, my first was older than me as well, though I suppose that is likely when you start such things so young. He was an assassin who had sought me out in Candlekeep before I'd even left. I did not know his name, I can't even picture his face… but I can still hear the wet thud his head made as it hit the floorboards.'

'You feel guilty? But surely he attacked you?'

Fritha shook her head.

'No, Anomen, I do not feel guilty, but I did kill him. I killed someone: removed them from this world never to affect it again. I did that. I have done it to others since and I shall no doubt be forced to do it in the future. But I should never forget what I am doing, the weight of the influence I carry in my sword… it should never lose its significance.'

Anomen frowned. 'But surely you believe some people deserve to die. Irenicus-'

'Was a very bad man, yes, I know,' she cut in tersely, 'I'm not saying I don't want him dead, I'm not saying I do, but either way it is just my opinion. But _deserve_ to die? What makes me worthy to proclaim such a judgement? How can anyone?'

'But surely in some cases, you believe it is right?'

'Right? And who decides that? You? I? The one left standing? Right is subjective. I kill people, yes. I have before and will again, but I would never ever be deluded enough to fool myself into believing that it is somehow noble of me. That I was right and they were wrong and this makes it all fine.'

Anomen drew back, this self-destructive path she seemed so firmly set upon more disturbing than any of her previous melancholy.

'But- But you cannot think that way, my lady; surely, you will drive yourself mad!'

Fritha snorted bitterly. 'And is the alternative preferable? To just become accustomed to it, until it doesn't even raise my pulse anymore?' She shook her head darkly, turning back to the stage. 'Perhaps madness is the price of all that blood.'

He watched her for a moment, just staring out at the empty theatre, before finally she sighed, taking the rail for support as she heaved herself up.

'Enough, no more self-pity; we must all play the hand we're dealt. Come, I should speak to Jaheira, she will be worrying.'

They made their way back to the Coronet in silence, Fritha walking beside him through the gloaming streets with a loose indifferent gait, as though she cared for little more than just putting one foot before the other. The tavern was busy with patrons taking their evening meal and the pair were almost to their table before they were noticed by the others, Jaheira on her feet in an instant, her look frantic.

'Fritha, I-'

But the rest of what would have undoubtedly been a fervent apology was lost as Fritha threw her arms about her neck and embraced her firmly. 'I am sorry, Jaheira, I know you did not mean for this to happen,' She drew back to hold the woman at arm's length, fixing her with an unwavering gaze as she added, 'I trust you.'

The sound of crying drew his attention from the two women, Anomen looking past them to the table where Aerie was weeping into her hands, Cernd looking perturbed, though Minsc was just smiling kindly as he rubbed her back.

'Goodness, Aerie what is wrong now?' sighed Jaheira, though it lacked her usual brusqueness, sounding almost fond.

'I'm just so _relieved_,' the elf hiccupped, taking Fritha's hand to add, 'I'm so sorry we fought this morning. I did not mean what I said.'

Fritha smiled, patting her shoulder kindly 'I'm sorry too, Aerie.'

Fritha laughed humourlessly as she sank into the empty chair next to her, Anomen and Jaheira sitting as well, 'Ah, it's been a fraught couple of days, hasn't it?'

Across the table Minsc nodded gravely. 'And Boo does not think it is to get any easier.'

'No,' agreed Jaheira, the druid dropping her voice, 'There has been no word of what happened at the hold about the city as yet. I believe the Harpers are keeping it quiet -they will not want the guards investigating their business. But that does not mean they will just forget about us. Indeed, the Harpers have very firm ideas about how to deal with those who murder our brethren; we must be prepared for retribution, though I still have friends within our ranks. Perhaps Dermin or one of the others will be able to convince the seniors that Galvarey left us with no choice before there is the need for any _further _bloodshed.'

Fritha nodded.

'Well, in that case our plans remain as they were. We leave for Umar first thing on the morrow.' Anomen watched as she leaned back with sigh, her eyes gaining a distant look. 'Haer'Dalis used to say the planes all dance to the rule of Three; that everything, good and bad, comes in threes… I wonder what is coming next.'


	66. The rule of Three

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

-Blackcross & Taylor

**The rule of Three**

Fritha lay still, curled upon her side in that gloomy cavern of white linen as she lay beneath her blankets listening to the birdsong that heralded the dawn. She knew they were to set off soon and that she would have to get up at some point, whether she wanted to or not, but still she did not move. Her sleep had been fractured, broken up by long periods of just staring at the darkened ceiling, going over and over the myriad of decisions and chances from the last few days that had led her to that moment and if Fritha was honest she just wanted to cocoon herself within her blankets and never come out again. But that simply wasn't possible and finally she roused herself, moving unconsciously through her morning routine and she was on the stairs before she realised it, trudging loosely down them into an empty common room.

No one was serving at the bar yet and Fritha went straight to the kitchens with her order, two maids arriving at her table moments later with a tray of tea and the first batch of porridge. Fritha nodded her thanks, waiting until the girls had disappeared back into the kitchens before serving herself a bowlful only to scrape the contents straight back into the pot, her dish now smeared with the remnants that would ensure that at least Jaheira's nagging would be one trial she could avoid that day.

The tea was hot and still a little weak, the leaves having not long been added, and Fritha drank four cups in quick succession before she finally felt sated, the girl pushing her chair back to pillow her head in her arms and only lifting it again when the next person arrived at the table.

'Morning, Cernd.'

'Good morning, Fritha.' The druid sent her a concerned frown as he took his seat, 'Are you feeling well? You look a touch pale.'

Fritha sent him a grin that was a stranger to her face. 'I'm not good with early starts. Porridge?' she offered, not waiting for his answer as she lifted the lid from the pot before her and spooned some into his bowl, 'Careful, it's still rather hot –I burnt my tongue,' she added with a laugh, feeling she may as well do the thing properly and she was suddenly reminded of Haer'Dalis and the similar games he would have them play, going about the city pretending to be different people from different places.

The last occasion had led to something far more serious though; the map to the tombs had directed them to troubles too great for any book. She knew Haer'Dalis and Aerie had fought about their little _excursion_. If they had not gone, would things have been better between the couple? Would he even still be there with them now? But then the child, Mihel, might not have been found in time or even at all.

'Fritha?'

Fritha started to find Jaheira sat opposite, Minsc at her side, the pair at the table before her as though they had suddenly materialised in their seats from thin air.

'Goodness, Fritha, where are you this morning?' the druid continued, though without her usual brusqueness, an uneasy smile instead pulling at her lips and Fritha could see the guilt that lingered behind it. The girl shrugged.

'Sorry, I was just-' though she was saved from thinking of an excuse as Aerie and Anomen arrived as well, her momentary distraction forgotten in the round of 'good mornings'.

xxx

The air was so bitter it seemed to steal the breath from her throat. Fritha trudged along, her neck and shoulders aching from where she had held herself tense all day, braced against the cold as they walked through the forests on the first leg of their journey to Umar.

Fritha rolled her neck, something in her spine clicking unpleasantly as her shoulder screamed in protest, still bearing the half-healed wound from Galvarey's blade despite Aerie's ardent ministrations the previous evening. She felt as though she had been braced all day, throwing herself into things with a vigour she certainly did not feel almost from the moment of waking, the girl sat with the others around the breakfast table, looking over maps and talking blithely about their route, all the time wishing she was back under her blankets, sleeping the days away. She sighed, eyes falling on the pointedly empty space at her side, a pang of loneliness shuddering through her chest. She missed Haer'Dalis.

So much had happened yesterday that it had not had chance to sink in. But that long day of walking had given her more than enough time to feel the weight of his departure and she tried not to wonder what they would be talking about had he been there that day; the last argument he had had with Aerie perhaps, or even how things were better between them now. Or perhaps something completely unrelated: him telling her another tall tale of Sigil or laughing as she tried to teach him some long-forgotten Netherese round she had learnt back in Candlekeep.

Fritha sighed, feeling very sorry for herself; everyone seemed to leave her in the end. Nalia, and then Eriyn and now Haer'Dalis -although to be fair Eriyn's leaving was more her choice than his, and Nalia was much better off now. Fritha frowned, angry at how she always seemed to try and rationalise her misery.

_Well, it is surely better than just wallowing in it!_ scolded her mind in a voice that sounded like a mixture of Beth and Nalia. Fritha sighed, trying to find a smile somewhere within her as though she could trick herself from her melancholy. She knew in her heart she should be happy, despite Haer'Dalis's leaving. After all they had at last a decent lead on their fugitive and she knew she should put all her focus on that, because Valygar led to Imoen and _that_ led to freedom, not just for her friend but for her as well.

And in her mind Fritha saw it, felt it: Imoen was back with her and she was free at last to escape Amn and its warring factions of thieves and vampires. Free to visit Nalia or return to Candlekeep or even take a trip to Waterdeep if she so wanted; free to travel and test and try and finally find her place in the world, her mind reeling with boundless freedom of it all. And then it faded, and Fritha was back in that forest, cold and tired and very much trapped by her circumstances and she almost winced as she felt the longing ache through her.

_No, no, none of that!_

Fritha drew a deep breath and released it slowly, Anomen glancing to her at the sound, mouth open as though he was about to ask her what was wrong when another cut him off.

'Right, that is probably as far as we should try to manage today,' came Jaheira from their head, the woman bringing them to a halt in a small clearing, 'It will be too dark to easily set up the camp soon.'

According to the map, there were no rivers or other sources of water nearby and once the fire was crackling, Jaheira moved to unfasten one of the two large flasks that were strapped to the back of Minsc's pack for just such occasions. Anomen glanced up from where he was unpacking the canvas to watch Jaheira pour a good half into the waiting cooking pot in preparation of the bland cured-meat stew that would be the staple of all their evening meals until they reached Imnesvale. The druid sat back on her haunches with a sigh.

'Fritha, if you would.'

The girl glanced up distractedly from where she had been rooting through her bag looking somewhat confused and Jaheira gestured to the pot before her.

'Hmm? Oh, yes, all right.'

'By Silvanus!' Jaheira cried, leaping back as steam billowed from the pot, 'I asked you to heat the water not boil it! We have just lost half to steam!'

Anomen stopped, the camp silent as they waited for the retort. But Fritha just stood there, staring back at the woman with an injured look when suddenly she had turned on her heel and swept from the clearing. Just enough time for an uncomfortable look to travel the group and Anomen was striding through the trees after her. 'Fritha!'

But she was much faster than him, especially through the forest, low branches and the tangle of undergrowth catching at him, and it was a few moments later when Anomen caught up to her, the girl halted before a russet-leaved sycamore, her shoulders hunched and shuddering slightly, an arm across her face and hiding it from view.

'Fritha?'

He saw her start, the girl whirling on him, unexpectedly furious, her face pink and blotchy and screwed up in her anger.

'Gods, Anomen, can't I have a _moment's_ peace? Must _all _my crying be done knelt before an altar?'

Anomen drew back with a sharp breath. 'You- You cry in the shrine?'

Fritha looked instantly horrified, lifting a hand to soothe, 'No, no, not always, just once- well, perhaps twice -oh, Anomen, will you just _sod off!_'

'No!' he shouted back, taking a step closer, a hand hovering at her arm as he continued gently, 'Fritha, please, I merely wish to help you.'

She sent him a hard look. 'Gorion is dead, Anomen, and you make a poor replacement.'

Anomen flushed, the sting of her words almost lost in the challenge they seemed to present him. He swallowed dryly. 'I- I do not seek to be a father to you, Fritha, I… I want-'

Distant shouts and the clash of metal cut him off, Fritha's attention snapping to the direction of the camp from which she had just stormed.

'What the-?'

An instant later and she had drawn her sword and was racing back to the others at a pace he could not match.

Anomen ran after her, the clamour of people fighting growing louder in the air. Ahead, their camp was coming into view, a muddle of figures before them and engaged in a furious battle. Their assailants looked to have once had the advantage of numbers, though it was swiftly being chipped away at, two bodies already sprawled on the muddy ground, the others stepping over them as they fought, Minsc opposite a man in chain who was skilfully wielding an axe in each hand, Cernd and Jaheira similarly engaged, struggling to hold back three lightly armoured fighters between them, Aerie stood behind the three, her lips moving in a constant chant to maintain the shimmering blue shield before them which was keeping the arrows of a halfling archer at bay. While, on the edge of the clearing, a tall man in heavy leather armour was stood, his back to them, face pink under a thatch of auburn hair as he bellowed orders over the din.

'Don't mark the druid too badly; we'll need proof. Yinka, Nual spread out and find that half-elven girl, she can't be far-'

Anomen considered the irony of his words was likely lost on him, the man not even given the time to turn and parry the blow as Fritha suddenly arrived behind him, placing her blade neatly under the rim of his cuirass to stab him through the back with a furious look.

'It's her!' someone cried over his scream, Anomen finally reaching the clearing to see one of the men who had been fighting the druids and a woman both circling Fritha warily, each armed with a sword and looking comfortable enough wielding them, and yet for all that they seemed wary of engaging the girl. Anomen could possibly see why though, Fritha possessed of a cold fury he had not seen in her before.

The decision was made for them though, Fritha stepping forward to engage the man, the pair trading only a few cursory blows before he was promptly dispatched, the woman's shout drowning out his cry as she turned and fled and those still remaining seemed to lose what nerve they had left, turning to run after her.

There seemed an unspoken understanding amongst their group that there would be no pursuit, everyone stood about staring at each other or the bodies that lay here and there about the clearing, the sudden and seemingly groundless attack leaving everyone rather dazed.

'Who in the Hells were that lot?' asked Fritha eventually, the girl crouching to wipe her blade clean on its last victim's tunic.

But silence followed, no one seeming to have an answer for her and Cernd crossed to the body of the red-haired man, crouching to search his pockets before he rose, opening out a sheet of parchment as he did so, the druid reading from it until his face was the same colour as the paper.

'Well?' demanded Jaheira impatiently. Cernd swallowed.

'It is a bounty notice… for you and Fritha.'

'They've put a bounty out on Jaheira?' Fritha snorted, something about her manner hardening, 'Someone's tired of living. Here, let's have a look then. Let it be known to all those of mercenary intent that the Harpers of Athkatla will pay one thousand gold pieces for the proof of death of the fugitive, Jaheira of Tethyr and the deliverance, alive, of her companion… the _Bhaalspawn_, Fritha of Candlekeep.' The girl sighed, crumpling the note up and tossing it into the fire. 'Great, just great.'

Cernd turned to Jaheira with a frown.

'Did you suspect this could happen?'

The woman shook her head, eyes still trained on the girl before her, voice quiet.

'No, not at all. This is most unlike the Harpers, we would usually deal with our own problems, especially when the life of one of our own had been taken. Though for them to hire others is not unheard of; the seniors must have given approval for the bounty to be raised.'

'Boo thinks that maybe they just want to make life difficult for us.'

'Well, they've certainly done that,' said Fritha bitterly. Anomen watched as she rubbed her hands briskly over her still pink face and up to rake through her hair, holding them there a moment before clapping her palms together sharply.

'Right, start packing up, someone douse the fire; we'll need to put some distance between us and here just in case they have some friends roaming about -though I doubt it from their number and the sum of the bounty.'

Slowly the group dispersed to carry out her orders, Anomen collecting the pot from where it had been kicked across the clearing before moving to her side, Fritha now crouched over her bag as she repacked her belongings. He fumbled with the worn iron handle a moment, trying to find the words.

'Fritha, are you-? I mean, this news-'

'I'm fine, Anomen,' she sighed tersely, no pause to her packing, 'It is not as though this is the first time, after all.'

'Sorry?'

Fritha glanced up to send him an unreadable look, before she was rooting in her bag once more to produce the small green book he knew served as her journal, the girl taking a neat square of parchment from the back.

'Here, this was the first bounty notice ever placed upon me, only, what, eight months or so ago now, back in the spring.' She opened it out, glancing it over with an almost fond smile before showing it to him. 'Ah look, they were only offering fifty gold pieces in the outset. By the time I'd reached the Gate, it had risen to over two thousand and we had left a trail of dead bounty hunters all the way up the Sword Coast.' She refolded the parchment back along the creases, placing it back in the book and returning them both to her bag.

'Not a good feeling, having to constantly watch your back…'

xxx

That night was a restless one, the group travelling on for a few more miles until Jaheira felt there was enough distance between them, everyone hastily setting up a camp in the twilight to share a meagre supper of dry rations before they bedded down, two to a watch.

And things did not get any better over the next couple of days as they made their way through the wilds to Umar. The whole group was tense and, though no one voiced as much, they all knew it was just a matter of time before the next attack. The weather was bitterly cold and there was not one among them who was not tired, Fritha especially, who always seemed to be awake whenever they took their rest, the girl volunteering for the first watch the previous night with Cernd, yet she had already been up and tending the fire when Anomen had awoken to take the last one with Aerie that morning.

The knight glanced back to where Fritha was walking alone but a few paces behind him. She had been withdrawn ever since that first attack, strangely neither Jaheira nor Aerie making any attempt to coax her out, though perhaps that was not so unusual when he considered what had passed between the three lately. Anomen knew it was a breach that would have been filled by Haer'Dalis had he still been with them and he hated the tiefling all the more for the fact. Anomen had tried to help himself and Fritha was as willing to talk as usual, but she still seemed only half there. Smiles held an air of the forced about them and more than once he had started her some private dream, her eyes staring out at something he could not see.

Anomen glanced back again, the girl slightly stooped under the weight of her cloak and coat and pack, trudging behind him as though she was only just awake enough to keep walking. He slowed his pace, waiting for her to draw level, the man heartened as she greeted him with a smile, albeit a tired one, her eyes looking all the darker for the indigo circles beneath them.

'Hello, Anomen.'

'Hello, my lady, I thought to come and talk with you since we have yet to speak today.'

The girl looked instantly nonplussed. 'We spoke this morning, Anomen. I asked you to pass me your cup when I was serving the tea.'

'Well, I suppose that is so, my lady…' he conceded with a frown, wondering if she was somehow joking, though she merely stared back impassively.

'So, what did you want to talk about, Anomen?'

He blinked, her directness catching him off-guard. 'Well, ah, nothing, I was merely wondering how you are.'

'I am fine and yourself?'

'Ah, I am well, my lady,' he paused wondering if he should continue when her manner already seemed so strained. 'I was actually thinking on this task of ours, the retrieval of this fugitive; if all goes to plan, you could well have Imoen back with you soon.'

'She's not back yet,' said Fritha evenly, something about her mood darkening as she turned back to their path.

'Well, no, but you surely cannot help but be thinking on the event, my lady. Do- Do you have no plans for her return?'

Anomen swallowed, waiting for her answer and not even sure for what he was hoping. He knew that Imoen's rescue could be a little as a fortnight away and once Fritha and her friend were reunited, everything would change; he would return to the Order and she... He watched Fritha as she considered his question, the tired look suddenly gone, replaced by a contemplative almost wistful expression.

'I will admit it is something that has been occupying my thoughts of late, but a decision… After we had first left the Gate in the summer, Imoen and I had plans to travel east.'

'East?'

'Yes, we had no real destination in mind. Just to walk east until the Sword Coast was like Candlekeep, no more than a memory.'

Anomen paused, surprised by the idea of her leaving. He had never really considered she would just _go_ before now, though he realised suddenly there was nothing to stop her. Amn was not her home after all, the girl dragged from her own lands by a mage who had clearly not intended for her to live long enough to make a return.

'Truly? So you intend to leave immediately then? I thought you had plans at least to visit Nalia at the orphanage.'

Fritha smiled absently at this mention of her friend. 'Yes, I did, didn't I? But I am not so sure that would be such a good idea now I've five hundred gold pieces resting so neatly on my head. Still, I suppose they could always turn me in and claim the bounty. It would buy a good few pairs of winter boots, don't you think?'

Anomen winced, her blithe bitterness painful to hear.

'I understand that your situation seems dire now, Fritha, but it will not always be thus,' he assured her, trying to ignore the unpleasant truth that she had been the quarry in two separate hunts since only the spring. 'Perhaps when the Lady Nalia is once more mistress of her lands-'

'Then it will be even _less_ wise for her to associate with me,' Fritha cut in sharply, 'Bounties may come and go, Anomen, but titles like _Bhaalspawn_ last a lifetime.'

'You are one of the Children, yes,' Anomen corrected subtly. He did not like that word: _Bhaalspawn_; it made her seem like a thing. 'But that does not change who you are: the saviour of Trademeet, the hero of Baldur's Gate. This is how people know you.'

Fritha merely shrugged. 'I know that this bounty they have on me will not make it common knowledge, and that even some who do find out will not be concerned about my heritage, but there are just as many who will and you would be surprised how such things can colour peoples' opinions.' She sighed, a certain steel creeping into her manner, 'I am too precarious a friend for Nalia while she is trying to settle in lands.'

'I do not believe she would care-'

'_I_ would care! Nalia has waited too long and worked too hard to win back her keep from the Roenalls only to have me hanging around raising unwanted questions.' Fritha leaned in slightly, a certain sly spite creeping into to her manner, '_They say they do not know who attacked the keep in the first instance. This Bhaalspawn helped them to liberate it, though not before the Lord de'Arnise was killed. All seems rather convenient, don't you think?_ _Perhaps the Lady Nalia did not wish to wait for her inheritance… And then Roenalls are given control of it as per the law and but a month later all this evidence appears linking Isea to slavery of all things. It seems that anyone who crosses the Lady de'Arnise is sure to meet an unpleasant end -and have you heard? She even has that very same Bhaalspawn staying with her now…_ I know what happens, Anomen,' Fritha continued with her usual voice and an unyielding look, 'I and those I travelled with were sentenced to _hang _on the most circumstantial of evidence.'

Anomen turned away. There was much truth behind her anger and it made him feel helpless to know there really was nothing he could do to make any of it better for her. 'So what do you intend, my lady?'

Fritha turned back to their path looking weary.

'Who knows? A lot will depend on Imoen, but with the Harpers hunting me outside the city and the vampire waiting for me within it, well, I am not sure Amn is the best place for me to be at the moment…' She glanced to him, smiling wanly, 'But, wherever I end up, I am going to try and find some peace. I managed to live the first twenty or so years of my life without killing anyone; it's a habit I should like to get back into. But,' she continued with a determined brightness, 'you must be looking forward to Imoen's return as well. What was it you once told me? You want nothing more in this life than to enter battle with the banner of the Radiant Heart flying over your head. Once we have Imoen back, you will be free to return to the Order and begin the life you have spent so many years working towards.'

'Well, yes, I suppose that is so,' Anomen admitted, wondering how he had _ever_ been so oblivious. And he _was_ looking forward to joining his friends at the Order, to go on campaigns and serve Amn and justice as he had always dreamed, but at the same time, he was loathed to leave her company. He had never thought anything would have made him have second thoughts about a life in service to the Order, but there she was, all lively hair and tired eyes.

'Hmm, it's funny,' she mused aloud, looking wistful once more, 'everyone seems to leave me in the end.'

'I won't. I mean, I-'

'Of course, you will, Anomen,' she cut in with a smile, 'and so will Jaheira and Minsc and everyone. We will all have to part in the end, because you are committed to this life, and I am not.'

There was nothing he could say to that and they walked on in silence for the last few miles, the stone houses of Imnesvale at last filtering through the trees.

'Should we see about getting rooms for the night?' asked Jaheira as they came to a halt outside the village inn. Fritha nodded her agreement.

'Yes, at least then we'll have somewhere to lighten our packs. We can-'

'Fritha?' cried a high voice, cutting her off and Anomen turned with the others to see a familiar young girl stood at the gate of a house further up the street, her sandy hair tied back in a long braid. 'Fritha!'

'Kaatje!' Fritha called back with obvious joy, waiting as the girl hurtled down the road towards them before scooping her up to swing her round and set her gently down again. 'Kaatje, by this day, I swear you've grown at least two inches since we last met.'

The girl giggled delightedly, still holding onto her sleeve and tugging it in her excitement. 'Oh Fritha, ever so much has happened since you left and I've the _best_ gossip about Vals.'

'Oh, aye, and what's that wayward brother of yours been up to now?

'Oh, Fritha it's so funny, he's got a _sweetheart_! It's Mari Faircopse! They've been courting since just after Highharvestide and they hope to be married come Midsummer. Look, there they are.'

The girl pointed back up the hill and they turned to see the young couple walking politely down the street arm in arm, Mari noticing their group to send Anomen a shy wave. Valsben scowled and made quite a show of opening his gate for the girl. Fritha grinned.

'Well, well, it seems love has made quite the gentleman of him.'

'Yes, though he still tries to act all tough in front of his friends –something much harder when I am calling him by the new name Mari's given him: _Honeylamb!_'

A pause where both Fritha and Kaatje were lost to raucous laughter.

'Gods, that's _awful_!'

'I know. And the best bit is Mari thinks I'm _adorable_ so Vals can't do anything to me when she's there!'

Fritha laughed again and ruffled the girl's hair affectionately. 'Well, it certainly seems as though you've been having fun.'

Kaatje nodded, beaming. 'Yes, and Delon and Blayel have finally come back, so now Delon and I can play together again. They arrived on a caravan over a fortnight ago now. They had had ever so many adventures; Delon told me all about them and how they met you again in Trademeet. But why are you back here?' the girl asked, suddenly looking anxious, 'Have the wolves come back to the ruins?'

Fritha sent her a reassuring smile. 'No, no, nothing like that. We're tracking a fugitive who is on the run from the city.'

'Oh, is the village in danger?'

'I doubt it -he only kills Cowled Wizards. We think he's hiding somewhere in the hills north of here. I don't suppose you've heard if anyone about the village has seen anything strange, have you?'

Kaatje shook her head, slightly crestfallen. 'No, sorry, most folks don't go far from the village and the nearby forest now the winter's coming. Oh, but why don't you talk to Madulf?'

'Madulf?'

'You know, the leader of that tribe of ogres who ran away from their army. They still have their camp in the northern forests; I go and visit them sometimes when our house gets too crowded.'

Jaheira frowned, though Anomen suspected she was likely referring to the journey when she asked, 'Is that not dangerous?'

Kaatje shook her head. 'No, they're really friendly. Madulf said he wouldn't even think of eating me until I was a bit bigger -I'm pretty sure he was joking though.'

'But doesn't your mother mind?' asked Aerie. Kaatje gave an indifferent shrug.

'My mother hasn't cared about a thing outside of dresses and flowers ever since this stupid wedding was announced.'

Jaheira frowned slightly but said only, 'We should probably go and speak with the tribe before the light fails.'

It was agreed, the group taking a moment to secure rooms and unpack some of their belongings before heading north up the slope of the main street. Kaatje walked with them to her gate and probably would have followed them further too, had she not been collared by her mother as they passed, the woman just leaving the house with a basket of dirty laundry on her hip and Kaatje was called away to help her.

The ogres were, indeed, very friendly, just as Kaatje had said, the group welcomed in to the fire and served a nettle tea which had quite a bite and Anomen suspected more than a bit of whiskey or the like had been stirred into the mix to fend off the cold. Madulf remembered them from before, the ogre leader sorry he did not have a chance to thank them for their success in defeating the Shade Lord, and he seemed rather disappointed that he could not be of more help; his tribe sometimes made excursions into the northern hills it was true, but they had seen no sign of their fugitive. Still, he gave them what help he could, marking on their map the locations of several caves and disused cabins that would serve very well for anyone who wanted to be lost for a time, and they left with his assurances that if he or anyone of his tribe saw anything of their fugitive, they would send word to Imnesvale immediately.

Back in the village, the twilight was drawing in, a chill rising in the air though this did little to discourage their most ardent fan, Kaatje clearly waiting for their return, stood swinging on her gate, her thin arms curled about the slats, the white powder of soap residue still ringed around her forearms from where she had been helping her mother.

'So, what did Madulf say?'

Fritha shrugged. 'Neither he nor his tribe have seen anyone fitting the description, but if anyone is planning to winter up there they will need shelter and he knows of a few derelict cabins in the hills that might serve for the purpose. He marked them on our maps for us.'

'Well, that is something at least,' the girl sighed, for a moment sounding much older than her years suggested, though it did not last. 'But if you're finished, we can go and play if you like.'

Fritha glanced to Jaheira who sent her a frown and Fritha turned back to the girl looking sulky.

'I can't. I've got to go in and have my dinner.'

'Well, maybe afterwards-'

'Kaatje,' called a matronly voice from the open doorway behind them, 'Kaatje, come inside now and get washed, it's nearly time for bed.'

'Night then,' said Fritha. The girl sighed deeply.

'Yes, goodnight. Coming, ma.'

Fritha watched her trip lightly into the house and shut the door, an unreadable look lingering on her face as she stared blankly at the wood.

'My lady?'

She glanced to Anomen, slightly distracted as though just awoken from a dream. 'Sorry?'

'Fritha, are you coming?' shouted Jaheira, the woman already halfway down the hill. The girl sighed deeply, glancing to him briefly and rolling her eyes.

'All right, all right, keep yer 'air on.'

xxx

They had left Imnesvale on the first day of a bitterly cold Uktar, the next few days were spent searching the densely wooded hills north of the village, following the markings Madulf had made on their map to the few cabins that scattered the gloomy forests. Most were little more than rotting husks, though a few provided some level of shelter and one or two looked to have been occupied, although not recently, and their search for the fugitive continued on.

If the weather was cold in lowlands it was nothing compared to up there on the hills, though the trees at least provided some shelter from the icy winds and they stayed in the cabins where they could, bedding down each night, piled under blankets and coats and cloaks; the only concession made to the fact they were abed, the removal of their boots.

It was a brave (or very foolish) person who could bear to remove enough to wash more than their hands and face outside though, and not even Fritha had attempted it. Some of the better cabins had allowed for washing, but with only dirty clothes to put back on, they were battling against the inevitable and after a few days of living and travelling in such conditions the unpleasant tang of unwashed bodies was becoming all too prevalent. Something that was being borne better by some than others, Aerie often seen to be observing the muddy hems of her robes with a disheartened frown, while Fritha had pretty much given up on her hair, the girl just braiding the ends to keep it from getting too wild and leaving it to its own devices, claiming that pulling a comb through the greasy roots just made her feel all the more disgusting.

It was the ninth day since they'd left the village, a few hours after sunrise and their group were already up and on the move once more, heading northeast through the forests and currently walking along the edge of an almost vertical bank of bracken that rose to merge into a craggy granite cliff face, the air heavy with a fine almost mist-like rain. Madulf had pointed them towards a group of caves deeper into the northern hills, where the forests fell back and the hills slowly climbed into mountains, sharp brown teeth above the rolling green. According to the map, a nearby river led almost to the very place and they were currently on course for that, if only to replenish their much diminished supply of water. Last night's camp had been made in a narrow ravine, well sheltered from the driving rains that has swept the hillside, though far from any stream or spring, and yet again there had been no water spare for washing.

They were grouped closely as they walked, hemmed in by the trees that grew right up to the cliff's edge, the ground an uneven chaos of twisting roots and potholes just waiting to trip the unsure foot. Though some of them clearly had more pressing concerns on their minds, Fritha paying little attention to their path, gazing down at her cracked dirty fingernails with an absently pained look.

'Look at that, I only just cleaned them last night; how on Toril do they get so dirty so quickly?'

'Really, Fritha, I cannot see how it matters,' Jaheira sighed, sounding rather amused by her vanity, 'put your gloves back on.'

The girl snorted. 'Just because I can't _see_ how filthy they are, won't them any cleaner. Gods, I'd sell my soul for a hot bath. You listening, Asmodeus?' she called aloud, 'Mephistopheles? Willing sinner here, ready for corruption.'

'Fritha,' Anomen admonished with a fond frown, 'Besides, at least the weather here is to our advantage. In the year when I was first squired, the Order sent us newcomers for a period of intensive training on the Tethyrian border. A long month camped in the late Flamerule heat, water-rationed and a whole camp of young men with few facilities available for washing and little inclination to go to the trouble.' He chuckled slightly, looking rather embarrassed, 'You could taste the air in the squires' pavilion.'

A chorus of groans and laughter followed, Anomen looking quite pleased he had been able to entertain them, Fritha laughing even as she pulled a face. 'That's disgusting!'

'Come now, why be offended by such natural matters,' Cernd offered with a mild smile, 'The way some people feel they must mask their own scent with another -the animals and birds do not pretend to such airs and we are all but children of Nature.'

'Or even less in some cases,' quipped Fritha, 'I am more mud than girl at the moment. It's all right for you two,' she accused, 'Do druid's have some sort of power granted to them by Silvanus where by they _wear_ the dirt rather than just being caked in it?' She fixed Jaheira with an exaggeratedly green-eyed glare, 'Almost a tenday's travelling and you just have this sort of _delicately smudged_ air, where as I look increasingly like the Wild Woman of Chult!'

Jaheira seemed quite flattered, the women smiling indulgently. 'Well, as with many things, it comes with practise-'

'Hold, murderers, and let justice take its rightful measure!'

And suddenly they were surrounded, armed men springing from the tall bracken next to them, a couple dropping from trees, and Fritha counted six before her attention was pulled once more to the speaker, a woman of middling years; narrow-eyed and full-lipped, her dark blonde hair scraped tightly back from her lined forehead. She and her companions seemed as wayworn as they did and Fritha wondered absently just how long they had been following them before laying this ambush.

Jaheira looked astounded and by more than just the abruptness of the attack. '_Reviane?_'

The woman nodded grimly. 'Yes, Jaheira, it is I and, though it pains me to do this, a traitor's death is what you deserve.'

'Wait!' cried Jaheira as both sides about her drew their weapons, 'I know why you have come, but you must understand; they left me no choice! Galvarey had me bring Fritha to the hold in Athkatla on the pretence of determining whether she was any threat, but he had no intention of letting her leave once there.'

'Ah, yes,' Reviane continued, eyes running slowly over Fritha, 'the godchild. The sage, Ramas, and his notes tell a different story though. That the assessment did indeed take place and when the girl was proved to be a risk you turned upon you fellow Harpers and slaughtered them-'

'That is not true!' shouted Fritha. The woman glanced to her with a look of utter contempt.

'And _why_ would Ramas lie?'

'Because Galvarey was a fool bent only on advancing his own station!' snapped Jaheira, her anger seemingly overwhelming any continuing desire to calm the situation, 'Ask Dermin! Ask Dermin how Galvarey badgered me for weeks, trying to get me to bring the girl to him. He knew the seniors would perceive the arrest of one of the Children favourably and no doubt Ramas had been promised a share of whatever honours Galvarey would receive. The test they gave her was biased! Anyone who took it would have been found guilty.' Jaheira sent the woman a calculating look. 'Who gave the order for this bounty to be placed upon us?'

Reviane's lined face was a stony mask 'The business of the Harpers is no longer your concern now, _traitor_! You have chosen to stand against your own with this- this _Bhaalspawn_-'

'Do not call her that!' shouted Anomen.

'-And you must suffer the consequences!'

Jaheira shook her head, slow and pained.

'Please, do not do this, Reviane. You know me, you _know_ I would not have done this had I any other choice; Harpers seek the truth-'

'Harpers do not kill their own, either!'

Fritha snorted, drawing her sword. 'I hope the irony of your attack isn't lost to you then.'

'Learn to appreciate silence, _Bhaalspawn_,' Reviane sneered, slowing drawing her own blade, 'there will be much of it in that box they have waiting for you. Enough of this! _Death to the killers of Harpers!_'

And at this rallying cry, they surged down from the bank, the two groups meeting in a clash of metal.

Aerie had already loosed a spell, a bolt of energy that missed its intended target, exploding on the granite cliff face behind them in a shower of white hot sparks, the elf falling back as she worked to summon another. Cernd and Minsc had taken up positions before her, using the densely placed trees to their advantages a they fought three men between them, Aerie taking out the group's archer with a well placed spell, while Jaheira and Reviane circled each other, the pair seemingly blind to all else, both staff and scimitar being wielding with a furious speed as the women fought, a raw anger seething behind each blow.

Fritha took a step back, parrying the swipe to her head and making her own furious sweep at her opponent's legs, the thickly bearded man she was fighting having to jump back to avoid it, his tanned weathered face all concentration as he watched for his next opening and Fritha wondered absently how anyone managed to engage more than one adversary at once. Anomen was but a pace from her, holding off both a tall man armed with a sword and women with a stave. But he was still aware enough of his surroundings to shout her name, gesturing to a robed man still stood on bank behind them and almost hidden in the ferns, his hands weaving a complex pattern as the Old Draconic symbol for _sleep _began to appear glowing in the air before him. Fritha felt a furious anger fill her as she realised for whom _that_ was likely meant.

'Oh, no, you don't!' she shrieked, swinging out at her opponent's head, the man predictably catching her blade against his own, only to stagger back holding his nose as the fist that was clenched about her sword hilt was thrust into his face and Fritha was already past him, the girl racing up the bank and barrelling into the mage to send him flying. He was on his back now, winded and sprawled in amongst the ferns and for an instant they watched each other: him prone beneath her, his arms held instinctively over his head for all the good it would have done, her with sword aloft, every fibre of her screaming for her to finish the thing. A ragged panting behind her and she whirled just in time to parry another swing, her previous opponent breathless from his chase, blood still streaming from his nose to clot in his beard and at her back, Fritha could hear the mage scrambling to regain his feet, the man using the opportunity to retreat further up bank.

She and the warrior were trading blows once more, but she had the advantage on that steep slippery slope and she did not wait long for an opening, cutting him down just as a shrill cry echoed about the cliff face and from her vantage Fritha watched the spray of blood arc through the air as Jaheira's staff connected with her temple and Reviane dropped like a stone.

'Reviane falls! Retreat!'

Fritha whipped back to see the mage already fleeing after his companions and she watched him go with a sinking feeling. Next time they met she may come to regret this day. She sighed, sheathing her blade as she walked back down to the others, her friends slowly gathering around the druid, Jaheira seemingly unaware of them as she stared down at the unmoving body of her former ally. Jaheira crouched down beside her, passing clouds reflected in the glassy stare of her vacant blue eyes.

'Oh, Reviane…'

'Should- should we bury them?' asked Aerie quietly. Jaheira shook her head, a certain hardness creeping in as she threw the woman's cloak over her face like a shroud and rose stiffly.

'No, the soil here will be too thin and we haven't the time. Come, we should put some distance between us.'

xxx

They continued their path through the day and well on into the afternoon, finally reaching the river that would steer their course into the hills, the group much removed from their previous good-humour and they stopped only when a pale violet began creeping overhead from the eastern skies, the chill of dusk drawing in about them.

It was her turn to cook; Aerie stooped over her pack, slowly pulling packets of dried meats and waybread from it with aching arms and longing for the moment when she could sit beside the already crackling fire and watch their dinner bubble and steam. They had rations enough for another good few days, but they had been trying to supplement them with what could be found there in the forests, delaying the time when they would be forced to return to Imnesvale to restock, Minsc stringing his bow in one fluid movement and slinging it over his shoulder.

'Minsc and Boo go hunting now. Don't worry, little Aerie,' he assured her, closing to her side in one step, the elf straightening from her unpacking with a tired smile, 'We shall find you fresh meat in this frozen forest -though we probably should not go alone…' His eyes fell upon the amber-haired girl who was currently crouched over her bag, humming absently. 'Would you like to come as well, young Fritha? We can practise your Rashemi.'

Fritha glanced up with inquisitive look. 'Hunting? Yes, why not, I fancy a change from being the prey,' she laughed, 'Just let me lighten my bag.'

Aerie watched as the girl returned to her pack, humming all the while and unmindful as Cernd and Anomen shared a dark look over the canvas they were opening out. Fritha had been acting strangely on and off for days now, a sort of strained good-humour lingering about her as though she sometimes was acting _too_ normally, and Aerie had to keep checking herself that she did not attribute it to the girl's ominous heritage. Newly discovered for _her _though it was, she considered Fritha had known for a while and it was unlikely to suddenly begin affecting her behaviour now. Aerie watched as the girl emptied her bag, scattering her bedding with books and clothes. All that time she had been one of the Children, a _Bhaalspawn_, and Aerie was stunned again by how little it mattered. The elf was sure she should be in awe or even fear of such a revelation, but there was only an acceptance. In a time not long ago she would have been annoyed that everyone but her had known, Aerie once again left out; too weak, too young. But now it did not matter; so much had lost its importance lately. Aerie glanced to the man next her.

'She has been quiet today.'

Minsc shrugged. 'Boo says young Fritha is always quiet, you just do not notice it because she talks so much.'

Aerie frowned; worryingly, that made sense.

'Right, all ready,' sang Fritha, springing up to throw her much-lightened bag across her shoulders with a flourish and together she and Minsc left the clearing.

Aerie sighed turning her attention back to her own pack, smiling slightly as Cernd and Anomen finished putting up the canvas, the former coming to join her.

'So, the task of dinner falls to you tonight,' the druid confirmed with a sigh. 'I fear you will have difficulty surpassing the burnt rice of yesterday evening -I do not care if I must double the number of times I am due to cook as long as Anomen is not forced to the task again.'

Aerie hid her smile behind her hand. 'Oh, hush, it was not his fault. Jaheira and Minsc were off examining those tracks they had found and Fritha was acting oddly again; he just got distracted.'

Cernd nodded gravely. 'Yes, there is much pain in this company at the moment, it looms over us like the shadow of some great mountain. Jaheira is a traitor to her fellows and Fritha to the very world itself if the Harpers are to be believed.' He glanced to her, his tone gentle, 'And how are you bearing up?'

'Sorry?'

Cernd smiled kindly. 'Well, I _am_ aware you are not being hunted by Harpers who wish to kill or imprison you, but it has not escaped my memory that you suffered something of a loss yourself before we left the city.'

Aerie shrugged, turning back to her pack though everything she needed was already set neatly at her feet.

'I cannot complain, I am the one who let him go… Besides,' she continued, drawing a deep breath and glancing to the druid with a determined smile, 'it was all for the best and I am fine. We would have only spent the whole journey arguing. I am sorry that he is not here for other's sake though -he was a good friend to Fritha, like Nalia in the way he could always seem to bring her from her melancholy.' Aerie smiled faintly to herself, for a moment lost in her own memories. 'He was kind like that, though his Doomguard philosophies would have seemed contrary to such behaviour. And he was loyal too, so determined to stand by Fritha over her alliance with the vampires.'

'_Yes, and he would stood by you as well… if you had let him,' _a voice reminded reluctantly and Aerie feltthe sadness that she had been ignoring for days now finally blossom from her heart. She had been missing Haer'Dalis since they'd left the city, unable to help but hear him in her mind as she'd noticed things she knew would have intrigued or amused him, the long days of walking spent wondering where he was and what he was doing -and she probably would have spent many a sleepless night thinking on it too, had the days not left her so exhausted. She smiled, recalling the way he would make light and threaten to carry her whenever she had complained of being tired.

'I am sure he is missing you as well,' said Cernd quietly and Aerie forced a laugh, going back to her bag and rooting through it with brisk movements.

'I do not think so; he never was the one to dwell upon such. He was flirting with Fritha and I while still enamoured of some other woman in his troupe. No, we are best off apart. We had nothing in common and we were always too different -everyone said so. Now, I was sure I had some ghee in here… perhaps Jaheira has it.'

Cernd stayed her hand with one of his own, her blithe industry not fooling him for a moment, it seemed.

'It is all right to be sad, Aerie, even if you believe you acted for the best. I missed Galia for months after my leaving.'

Aerie shook her head, for a moment not trusting herself to speak or even look up at him as she tried to drag herself back from the brink of the tears she did not want to shed.

'Honestly, I am fine,' she assured breezily, gently easing her hand from under his as she glanced to him with another too-wide smile, 'Besides, I am not the only one who left someone behind in Athkatla.'

Cernd shrugged, turning from her to gaze about the clearing with distant eyes. 'What is there to say? Both the law and the circumstances of the thing are with Deril -and for all I know Galia's wishes are as well.' He sighed deeply. 'At least now I know I have a son; that will have to be enough. Well,' he continued, glancing back to her with a familiar serene smile, 'I will leave you to your preparations, though do say if you require any assistance.'

Aerie watched as he moved across the camp seemingly to engage Anomen, the elf taking a moment to repack her now well-tilled bag though when she glanced back up, Cernd had gone.

xxx

Fritha crouched low, her breath misting in small white clouds as she moved slowly through the undergrowth after Minsc. The ranger had come across the disturbed ground and cloven tracks of a small wild pig, the trail still fresh enough to be worth following and together the pair had been stalking their prey for a good half hour now. She watched her frozen breath, the way it hung a moment, swirling slowly in the cold air before dissipating away to nothing, the groans and whispers of the forest echoing about them. The tired leather of her boots creaked as she shifted slightly, leaning forward to watch as Minsc examined the torn bark of a nearby trunk.

'I wonder, do the Harpers hunt us like this?' murmured Fritha absently, 'Following our tracks, growing ever closer even now…'

Minsc stopped, leaning back on his haunches with a troubled sigh. 'Young Fritha, where do such thoughts come from?'

Fritha shrugged. 'I don't know, my mind just says them. Chatter, chatter, chatter, just like it usually does, keeping me company in the long, _long _silences.' She laughed though it was not an amusement that Minsc shared. The ranger sighed again and when he spoke, it was slowly, as though he was carefully choosing each word.

'Many people say Minsc is mad, but I bear it because I know that I am not, but you… Boo and I, we are worried for you, Fritha.'

The ranger watched as she frowned and shook her head; impatient; confused.

'I am not mad, Minsc, I am just trying to… to stay bright, you know, like I usually am.' The frown deepened, a hand moving absently to rub her chest. 'Only the weight upon me keeps getting heavier. I have had bounties placed upon me before, but this isn't the same. Those men just wanted to kill me; lots of people want that and though I would very much rather they did not succeed, I know that death itself is nothing to be feared. But this… this is different. The Harpers and their allies stalk us across the land in an endless pursuit. However many times we defeat them, more are always on their heels,' she glanced to him, her look hollow, 'and I am so frightened, Minsc, because all I can see when I close my eyes is the rough wooden lid of the box they're going to put me in.'

She shook her head again, glancing down to her mud-streaked hands. 'I wonder if Valygar feels like this, so trapped and tense and infused with a fear that never truly leaves you.'

'Boo says this Valygar is a murderer; young Fritha has done nothing.'

Fritha snorted humourlessly. 'Not according to them: _Death to the killers of Harpers…_'

Minsc leaned forward, two strong hands sudden clasped about her shoulders as he forced her to look up at him.

'Fritha please, you are worrying us! Boo says it will be better soon. Jaheira will parley with the Harpers and they will hunt us no longer. She is a good woman; the word of her past deeds within the Harpers will carry much weight. When such crimes are still fresh, the cry for vengeance is loud in the mind and nothing else can be heard. But this thirst will soon fade and then will come the time for talk. Please, Fritha; Minsc and Boo will protect you, but you must be strong -stay strong in your own mind until then.'

She was frowning again, but nodded slowly. 'I will try, Minsc.'

Minsc nodded as well, soundly clapping her arm. 'Good girl! Come now, let us catch our quarry.'

xxx

Aerie let her gaze travel the almost empty camp, the clearing a warm pool of light as the twilight closed about them. Anomen was off making his prayers for the evening, Cernd still somewhere out in the nearby forests probably doing something similar and leaving her and Jaheira quite alone. Aerie watched as the druid leaned forward to add more wood to the fire, the light opening her face in shades of yellow and the elf could see the dull sorrow etched there. Tentatively, she crossed to the fire, sinking down on to her crumpled bedding to send the woman a stalwart smile.

'Fritha and Minsc should return soon and we can start to make dinner.'

Jaheira nodded, eyes not moving from the dancing flames. 'Yes, and they will likely bring a catch; I never knew a hunter so skilled as Minsc… not even among the Harpers.'

Aerie swallowed, hearing the unspoken indication that this awkward matter could be broached.

'Did you know Reviane well?'

Jaheira drew back from the fire with a sigh. 'Very well at one point; she was one of the handful of people who attended our wedding, though she was closer to Khalid than I… What would he say now if he could see what has happened; Harpers hunting Harpers and us forced to kill the men and women we once counted as friends…' She shook her head, quietly despairing, 'This is all my fault.'

'You're wrong,' countered Aerie, the determination to her voice surprising even her. 'You are partly to blame, yes, but you do not have rights to the whole. You were blind to Galvarey's plans. _He_ was the one who lured us there, who tried to trap Fritha.'

Jaheira sent her a twisted smile, her eyes unusually bright. 'You do not understand, Aerie. I _knew_ Galvarey was not to be trusted from the very beginning, the way he would question so circuitously about Fritha and then pretend he had no interest in her. But I so wanted to believe in him, to just put it down to my own suspicions and cling to that old life… the one I had shared with Khalid.'

She made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a laugh, arms wrapping about herself as she turned back to the fire. 'Ah, he was always so much stronger than I, willing to stand alone in the world against whatever would come. He would have just avoided Galvarey, refused to take Fritha to him, but I so wanted to believe in the man, believe in the Harpers…'

'And you can!' Aerie cried, suddenly desperate to lessen the woman's pain, for both Jaheira's sake and her own, 'Galvarey tricked them! And I know the Harpers hunt us now but they are not all corrupted as he was. You said yourself, Dermin believes in you, and others will too; the Harpers are not lost to you…'

Jaheira said nothing, just stared into the fire, Aerie unsure of what else she could say when the crash of undergrowth sounded behind her and she turned to see Minsc and Fritha wending their way through the trees. Aerie forced a brightness to her voice, Jaheira visibly straightening at her side.

'Ah, and our hunters return. Did you catch anything?'

'_Ugot!_' announced Fritha triumphantly.

'Ugo-?' Aerie began to question as Minsc removed their catch where it was hung from the bow on his shoulder, 'Oh, wild pig!'

'Pig_let,_' corrected Fritha playfully. Minsc beamed.

'Well, it's very good either way,' Aerie laughed; Minsc's skills never failed to impress her, 'though it will take a while to roast.'

'Yes, too long,' said Jaheira bluntly, standing to fetch up her cooking pot, 'We'll just slice it up and stew it with the last of the onions. Pass it over, Minsc.'

The pair had cleaned their quarry where they had caught it and all that remained was for Jaheira to joint the carcass, the woman stood slicing meat from the bones, the thin strips falling to land with a hiss in the pot that was already set over the fire. Cernd appeared not long after with some interesting looking roots which were quickly added to the mixture, and a heavy stew was bubbling thickly by the time Anomen returned from his prayers with more firewood, the group at last settling down for the evening. It wasn't the most tasty of meals they had ever shared, but it was filling, and it warmed, the tension that had been hanging over them all fading somewhat as the dishes were cleared and the talk moved on to their plans.

'So,' began Jaheira, opening out their map and laying on her knees before them, 'if we keep on at this pace, we should reach the foothills by the day after tomorrow. There are a few caves there and Valygar can only be in one of them, if any, so at least we will have somewhere to shelter each night.'

'And we will be glad of it,' offered Cernd grimly, 'the air will be even colder up there.'

'We will have to be more careful as well,' murmured Fritha from where she was laid upon her back in amongst her blankets, an arm across her eyes to spare them from the firelight, 'Kaatje told me at Highharvestide; that wolf pack we drove from the ruins makes its home on those slopes.'

Jaheira nodded. 'That pack was much weakened by their ordeal at the hands of the shadows; I wonder if they will even survive the winter.'

'Minsc hopes so, but not on us, yes?' the ranger laughed and Jaheira sent him a weak smile.

'Indeed. Now, on the eastern slopes there is a pass that leads into the heart of the foothills. I would suggest we travel east along the edge of this ravine and we should reach the pass the day after tomorrow. From there it will likely take a few days to perform a thorough search of the hills.'

Cernd nodded, though he looked grave. 'I do not mean to be the voice of pessimism, but and what do we do if this Valygar is not there? We will have exhausted all the places told to us by Madulf.'

Jaheira shrugged. 'By the time we have made a search of those hills, we will be running low on supplies anyway; we will head back to Imnesvale and reconsider our position.'

'Yes, Boo says it will be a long while before we run out of Umar to search.'

Jaheira nodded once, folding up the map and returning it to her pack. 'Well, we should start thinking about getting some rest. Cernd, you're on the first watch with Fritha. Fritha?'

Jaheira glanced to her; she'd been asleep all that while.

'Oh, I'll swap with her then,' offered Aerie, 'So, I'm on first with Cernd then-'

'I will take hers,' interrupted Anomen quietly, not even looking up from the greave he was oiling.

Aerie frowned slightly. 'But you cannot take two, Anomen, they are long enough now as it is with us having to take them in pairs.'

'She would do the same for me,' he said simply, no pause to his work and Jaheira sighed inwardly. At first she hadn't been sure whether it was any more than a passing whim, but there was a quiet intensity to the man now, ever since their conflict with the vampires, and there could be no mistaking his seriousness.

xxx

Anomen rolled his shoulders and rubbed brisk hands across his face in an effort to wake up. It was drawing close to the end of the second watch he had taken with Minsc, first he and Cernd and then he and the ranger taking it in turns to walk the perimeter while the other sat by the relative warmth of the fire. Minsc was out on his last patrol of the evening now, leaving him just sat staring at the flames and trying to ignore the restless muttering of the girl laid opposite. That Fritha had been tired enough to fall asleep even before her watch could commence was true enough, though she hardly looked peaceful, the girl curled upon her side, back to both him and the fire as she murmured quietly into her blankets.

She was getting worse -had been ever since they had left Imnesvale and Anomen found himself wishing they could find this Valygar and deliver him to the mages soon if only so her distress would be eased, even if the end result could mean she would leave forever.

He pulled his mind away from this, even the possibility enough to cause him sadness, and he let his attention drift over more idle thoughts. High Watcher Oisig had had nothing but praise for him when Anomen had attended evensong that night before they had left the city and he wondered whether Sarles had started work on his sculpture for the temple yet. The High Watcher had also mentioned that trouble was stirring up in the Cloudpeaks; groups of orcs had been seen along the boarders and there were rumours of some of the villages being raided. Something Erick too had spoken of, and his friend thought he would be dispatched with a contingent of other knights within the tenday.

Anomen wondered if _he_ would have been sent too, had he not been travelling with their band. He closed his eyes a moment, letting the memory of them at their last meeting drift back to him, Erick struggling with an amused resignation, trying to get the drunk Simon back to the Order as the squire serenaded the city at large, Fritha radiant in yellows and laughing joyously. Had his friends heard yet of the bounty on them? They were unlikely to recognise Jaheira, but Fritha's name would be familiar enough. If they had come across it, then they would now know it was _she_ who was one of the Children, and Anomen wondered if they would still be so keen on playing matchmaker if they knew.

A sharp intake of breath from across the fire and the girl herself was suddenly very much awake, Fritha struggling frantically to pull the blankets back from her face until she seemed to realise where she was and breathed a deep shuddering sigh.

'A nightmare, my lady?'

Fritha started again, half sitting to whirl to him and it was only then Anomen noticed how scared she looked, a fine sheen of sweat highlighting pallid cheeks.

'Oh, Anomen, it's you,' she breathed, shaking her head at herself, 'Of course, of course.'

'Are you well, Fritha?'

'Yes, fine, fine-' she glanced to him, suddenly frowning, 'I missed my watch.'

'I took it for you,' he explained, frowning himself as he reached over to draw his flask from his pack to pass to her. 'Here, take some water.'

Fritha nodded her thanks, tipping it back for a long draft before replacing the lid though she did not return it to him straight away, all her focus on thin discoloured braid of red string Simon had long ago tied about the neck in commemoration on their first campaign together, the girl running it through her fingers as she spoke quietly.

'I was somewhere small, enclosed, a box or a tomb, it wasn't really important which at the time. The only thing that mattered was that I was trapped; trapped and no one was coming for me.'

She closed her eyes, a shiver sweeping over her and, at that moment, Anomen had never hated anything more than the Harpers.

'You know we would not let them take you,' he assured her, but she just shrugged, staring up at the pale canvas above them with fathomless eyes.

'Just as I would not let anyone take Imoen. But taken she was… Sometimes things are just beyond our control.'

'I would find you.'

She glanced to him sharply, her surprise mirroring his own at not only what he had just said, but the way he had said it: growled out with all the barely restrained hatred he felt for the world when he thought of her being harmed.

'If I had to tear apart the Sword Coast to do it, I would find you.'

Fritha still looked slightly worried by the base anger that simmered behind this admission, but reassured too; a few words with some feeling behind them doing more than a thousand prolix speeches ever could. She nodded once returning his flask and rearranging her blankets to settle back down for sleep. But even when Minsc returned and they woke Jaheira and Aerie for the final watch, Anomen lay awake a good while longer, just watching her, the blood still roaring in his ears.


	67. False dawn

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**False dawn**

That night was the coldest yet and though Anomen was not awake to see it fall, he awoke to find the world about them covered in a fine layer of powdery white snow, something that had been the cause of both much delight and discussion as the group had risen and taken their breakfast.

'Well, it has not lain particularly and that which has will melt soon enough once the sun is up,' offered Jaheira to no one in particular as she threw the dregs of her teacup into the forest behind and moved to pack it away with the rest of her belongings. 'And thank Silvanus for that; it would only make it easier for us to be tracked.'

Others, though, took a less practical view.

'It is beautiful,' sighed Aerie, paused in her packing to gaze about her at the frosted forest. 'As though the world has been blanketed in a pure white quilt, all nestled down to wait for the spring.'

Anomen smiled as he tied the last knot on his bedroll and shouldered his pack. Though he agreed with Jaheira's assessment, it did look quite picturesque all the same.

'Anomen?' called a familiar voice behind him. The knight turned. 'My la- ugh!'

Anomen choked and spluttered, the word lost as his face was suddenly full of snow. He leaned forward, quickly shaking it from his collar before it could melt and glancing up to confirm his suspicions. Fritha was stood on the other side of the recently doused fire, pink with suppressed laughter, a neat trough in the snow on the canvas directly above her. Anomen crossed the camp in two strides, the girl immediately diving behind Minsc with a shriek.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry.'

She was peering around Minsc's arm, much to the ranger's bemusement, the girl still grinning and not looking remotely repentant, and Anomen could seemed to do nothing to but stand there staring back at her. There had been a time not long past when such a thing would have angered him as he was once again made to seem the fool in one of her jokes. But that had been before… Anomen swallowed, belatedly realising all eyes were on him, still waiting to see his reaction and he suddenly felt very on show.

'I- I should re-fill my flask before we leave.'

Anomen sighed, wishing he had managed to say something before he had left, the group no doubt assuming he had merely stormed off for a sulk. Once the source of such annoyance, he had come to like Fritha's teasing. It had become something she shared with, rather than inflicted upon, him and he liked to hear her laugh, even if it was at his expense. Anomen shook his head. He knew it did not make sense, but he found that those days very few things did.

The river they had been following the day before was chattering brightly, already fast flowing and just waiting to burst its banks once the snow melted, and it was only when he had crouched down that he saw it. At the foot of the stout beech next to him, sheltered from the snows in the lee of the twisting roots, was a tiny red flower. His mother had loved gardening, the small sheltered garth of their Athkatla residence not nearly as large as she would have liked, and the cool forests that bordered their summer house had been much more to her tastes. He could remember the outings with ease, his younger self running ahead of his mother and baby sister as they walked the woodlands collecting wildflowers, before they would finally return to the vineyard to settle on a blanket somewhere in the shade, the day's treasures laid out before them, his mother explaining to him their names and meanings as she'd nursed little Moira, and Anomen recognised the flower before him now.

A Crimson Rhodelia; such a fragile thing to have grown there, especially so late on in the season. He leaned closer, feeling only the slightest regret as he felt the stem snap under his fingers and easing his conscience with the thought that with more snows on the way, it likely would not have survived longer than a few days anyway. He remained crouched and looking at it a moment longer before he decided what to do, searching in his pack to withdraw his prayer book and two scraps of paper. He had seen his mother press flowers enough times as a boy to know what it entailed, the man arranging the flower carefully between the layers of parchment and slipping it inside the heavy pages of his prayer book. Just a moment to fill his flask and he was walking back to camp, Fritha dropping her edge of the canvas she was supposed to be folding with Minsc and bounding over the instant she noticed him.

'Anomen, you're back -are you cross with me?' she asked, not waiting for an answer as she continued hastily, 'Because I _am_ sorry. _Properly _sorry this time, too -see, I'm not smiling or anything.'

He smiled himself; her concern was rather endearing to see. 'It is fine, my lady, I was not angry.'

Fritha looked instantly relieved.

'Good, because I _am_ sorry. I just saw all that pristine white snow lying on the canvas and I couldn't resist. It never really snowed much in Candlekeep; it was so near the coast. And we were rarely let out to play in it.' She sent him a wry smile, 'I think Gorion thought the temptation of a few dozen stuffy old monks would have been too much for us.'

Anomen raised an eyebrow. 'Well, it certainly proved too much temptation for _you_.'

'Anomen, really!' she cried, seemingly appalled by his insinuation, though he could hear the laughter in her voice as she went to turn away. 'You're not a _monk_.'

Anomen fought against a smile. 'Oh, so I _am, _what was it, my lady, _stuffy_ and _old_?'

'Certainly not -thirty's not _that_ old.'

'Fritha!'

The girl sent him a grin over her shoulder, giggling away to herself as she returned to helping Minsc fold up the canvas and she was still smiling when they broke camp.

xxx

It was another day of walking, following the gradually narrowing river upstream as they continued their journey into the hills of Umar. Aerie tipped her hood back and shook the small white mound from it before it melted. It was snowing lightly again, the heavy flakes whirling about them to pat softly against the trees and ground before melting away to nothing. Aerie sighed, her breath coming out in a frozen cloud, the elf glancing to the girl next to her. Fritha had started out walking with Minsc, though he had been called to their head to examine some tracks a while ago, she and Aerie had found themselves walking together at the back of the group for a couple of hours now. Fritha was hardly paying attention to their path though, the girl's head back, gazing up at the swirling confetti of white with narrowed eyes.

'It's pretty, isn't it?' she sighed absently, flicking out the tip of her tongue to catch the snowflake that had just landed on her upper lip, 'The way it falls like icy pear blossoms. I wonder if Haer'Dalis ever saw snow before. I know it does not snow in Sigil, but there are plenty of other places on the planes where it might.'

Aerie watched her, Fritha smiling wistfully as she gazed upwards and behind her eyes she could see Haer'Dalis, his face holding the same serene wonder as he gazed upwards with her. Aerie felt the pain twist through her, just managing to stifle her cry to a dry sob, Fritha whipping to her at the sound.

'What is it? Oh, sorry, Aerie, I should not have brought him up -I just thought because you, well, instigated it…'

Fritha trailed off, Aerie fighting back the tears as she cried, 'Oh Fritha, what have I done? I just miss him so much. You were right; I did drive him away. I thought it was him, that he would not open up to me, but I was just using it as an excuse. He was willing to give me everything in the end, but it was _I_ who gave up. I was scared to love him because we were so different -I believed in my heart we'd fail and now we have because I let him go.'

She could not help it, the tears she had been bottling up for so long suddenly streaming down her face- the more she wished to stop, the more she seemed unable. Fritha's hand clasped her shoulder, kind and soothing.

'Come on now, Aerie. It's all right.'

'No, it is not,' she refuted angrily, 'I always knew I had not come to terms with the loss of my wings, always felt that longing in me that could never quite be filled, however much I had. And then I met Haer'Dalis and as I grew to love him and realised his pain mirrored my own, though we held it in much a different view. I felt if I could heal him that somehow my own pain would be lessened -I was almost obsessed with it.' The elf shook her head, despairing of her own follies. 'When I was a slave, thought all I needed was to be free and everything would be better. Then, when it happened I realised it wasn't enough. In my heart, I just wanted everything to return to how it had been when I was at home, in Faenya Dail, but it could not. I tried to move on, I made friends at the circus and then met you and our group and found a love, but- but I had him, had Haer'Dalis and I still wasn't healed. I just needed more or maybe something else. Why wasn't it enough?'

Fritha shook her head, looking sad and lost as to how to help her. 'Aerie, I don't know what to say; only that maybe life isn't as simple as that. We cannot go backward, only forward and you must just accept you are a different person, in a different life and try to find who you are now, not who you were, or who you feel you should be.'

'But how? How can I? How can I be someone new when I was not anyone before? Uncle Quayle was right, I've never had to be my own person. At home, I was the youngest, the baby of the family, spoilt and coddled. Then I was captured by the slavers and though it was very different, I still had all my decisions made for me, I was still kept, still caged. But no longer!' Aerie announced fiercely to the icy world about her, 'I have to move on -from my old life, from my wings, from all of it- and I will walk in world as my own person. I only- I only wish I could have realised this before I lost him,' she swallowed, glancing to Fritha to ask, 'Do- do you think I will ever see Haer'Dalis again?'

The girl shook her head looking forlorn. 'I don't know. I'm sorry, Aerie, but I don't.'

Aerie dipped her face as the tears came once more and perhaps Fritha felt it was needed for she made no attempt to sooth or silence her and they walked on like that for many miles more.

xxx

It snowed long enough for even Fritha to grow tired of it, before finally easing off, the clouds clearing overhead and leaving a bitterness to the air as they at last stopped to make camp in a small clearing on slightly higher ground further up the sides of a densely wooded valley, far enough from the river to negate the risk of flooding should the water levels rise in the night. It was still too warm for the snow to have lain, the entire forest drenched with meltwater and without any dry wood to hand it would have been difficult to start a fire had it not been for Fritha, the girl setting a heap of sodden sticks ablaze with but a glance. Anomen watched her staring into the yellow flames. He had seen her talking with Aerie earlier, and though he was not sure what they had discussed, the pair had been quiet ever since and the elf looked as though she had been crying.

'There is no need for you to go hunting again, Minsc,' said Jaheira, Anomen turning away in time to see the ranger nod once as she continued, the woman struggling to pull the canvas from her pack as she spoke, 'We've still more than enough meat left from yesterday, though this wood will not last for long; a lot more will have to be collect before nightfall and we will need some water too.'

'I'll go,' Fritha trilled. Anomen was at her side before Aerie could speak.

'I shall accompany you, my lady.'

Fritha just smiled, stooping for the cooking pot to amble off through the trees and he followed, catching her easily and moving to take the pot from her, though she held it out of reach with a laugh and told him to behave. They walked on in silence after that, the wet leaves rustling underfoot. The gloom was drawing in about them as they walked deeper down into the valley and it was almost as though they were leaving the world they knew behind them, not even the familiar trill of birdsong to ruin the illusion, the forest silent save for the rhythmic patter of dripping water and their shallow breathing as they walked. Fritha was looking the happiest he'd seen her in days, bundled up against the cold, her cheeks flushed as she led the way. They would be at the stream soon and Anomen felt his hand move unconsciously to his bag, slipping inside to close about the prayer book he knew was within. He had been thinking on it ever since that morning, ever since he had found it: that fragile flower that seemed to have grown against all odds.

'Fritha?' he began, suddenly very aware of himself as he stopped walking and she turned back to him with a mildly interested look.

'Yes?'

'Do- Do you know what this is, my lady?'

Fritha peered at the half-dried bloom he now held, her voice edged with a tone popular when speaking to the very young or the completely stupid. 'It's a flower, Anomen.'

'A Crimson Rhodelia, my lady,' he corrected, taking a step closer to her and trying to swallow past the sudden dryness of his throat, 'a rare find, especially considering the season.'

'You'd best not let Jaheira see you've picked it then,' she laughed. Anomen tried to smile as well, but he felt rather sick.

'The sages tell us it is a flower of vengeance and warriors… but also a flower of- of lovers.'

Fritha stared back at him, her eyes wide and bright as all he had been feeling for as long as he could remember was finally laid plain before her and suddenly she had turned to resume their course, marching briskly through the trees, her laughter hollow and nervous.

'Oh no, no, no, no.'

'Fritha!' he cried, frustrated that she was reacting just as he had feared and having to quicken his pace slightly to catch up to her. 'Fritha!'

'Anomen, no!'

He caught up to her, blocking her path, the girl seemingly torn between retreating and trying to push past him. 'Fritha, please!'

'Oh, Anomen, why this?' she cried despairingly, 'Why now?'

'Fritha, surely, you must have realised!'

He took another step closer and she recoiled, her shoulders meeting the tree behind her, the girl turning her face away as she flushed scarlet.

'We are _friends_, Anomen!'

'Fritha,' he sighed, still trying to catch her eye, 'I am in love with you.'

'_You what?_ In _love_?' she breathed, turning back to him, a bemused scowl suddenly knitting her brow, 'No, you're not - don't be silly!'

Anomen drew back, stung. 'My intention was not to appear foolish, my lady.'

Fritha just shook her head, looking flustered. 'And how can you appear otherwise? Pitching up here, telling me you're suddenly in love with me.'

'It was _not_ sudden! I- I have held a deep regard for you for an age now. I was so desperate to tell you of it, but I could never find the moment. And now -now I love you, Fritha, and I cannot bear to have it pressing on me any longer without speaking of it to you!'

Fritha looked deeply uncomfortable, holding the pot up before her as though it could somehow shield her from his confession, her façade of asperity not quite masking her discomfort.

'Yes, well you've told me now, and very nicely too, but I cannot return these… _feelings_ you have so, I'm sorry, but there you are.'

'That is _it_?' he exclaimed, struggling with his temper as his voice began to rise, 'You would refuse me, without offering _any_ explanation as to your reasoning, and I must just put aside all that I have been feeling for- for _months _now?'

She nodded mildly. 'Yes, if you would.'

Her tone was calm, patronising even, and he knew she was trying to rile him further; a proper fight and all this would just be an painful memory, never again to be revisited. Anomen swallowed his anger -he was damned if he would let her. His silence appeared to be making her anxious, the girl shifting nervously, as an animal who had been cornered but still held hopes of a snatched escape, her manner quite at odds with her matter-of-fact tone.

'Look, I'm sorry, Anomen, I really am, but with everything that's happening now and, well, _everything_, I cannot give you any other answer and that is that. Go on back to the camp, I shall fetch the water alone and rejoin you all soon.'

She shooed him slightly, turning to leave and he slammed an arm against the tree to block her escape, using her moment of surprise to press the flower into her unresisting hand and bringing both of his around to cup it.

'I can understand that you may find what I say difficult to accept, but it is the truth and if my words alone cannot convince you, I must set to doing so with actions.'

Barely a moment to take in her horrified expression and he'd kissed their gloved hands, released her, and was walking back to camp, a loud curse and the hollow clang of an iron pot being hurled against an unlucky tree drifting after him.

xxx

Jaheira poked at the embers in the firepit before her, the flames flaring brightly as air stirred through it and she threw the stick onto them with a sigh. She did not know what was worse: being ambushed by the people she had once called allies, or those long periods in between, just waiting for the next attack. The crash of undergrowth sounded at her back, though loud enough not to worry her -no ambush was ever so blatant. And sure enough, Anomen appeared moments later, red-faced and quite alone. Jaheira had straightened in an instant.

'Anomen, where is Fritha?'

'I have been _dismissed_,' he snorted, looking cross and somehow flustered as he raked a hand through his short brown hair, 'She says she will collect the water herself.'

'Should she not be alone!'

'Well, be assured, she did not wish to be with _me!_' Anomen retorted, his anger dissipating as he sighed, the man looking suddenly tired, 'Could someone go and join her please?'

Minsc nodded, rising from his place at the fire and clapping a reassuring hand on the knight's shoulder as he passed him. 'Worry not. Minsc and Boo will go and fetch her.'

Jaheira shook her head, turning back to the fire with a disgruntled sigh, the man at her side sending her a kind smile, Cernd's mellow voice low.

'You heard Minsc: do not worry, Jaheira.'

The woman shot him a dark look. 'I am not worried, I am _angry_,' she hissed, 'Idiot girl! She knows of the dangers and yet she insists on behaving so irresponsibly –and more fool the boy for heeding her!' she added, glowering at the man opposite though Anomen hardly noticed, now staring into the flames as she had been, looking flushed and out of sorts.

'Come now,' soothed Cernd quietly, plainly trying not to smile, 'it is clear they have had some sort of disagreement and Minsc is with her now; no harm has been done.'

Jaheira swallowed, her anger not enough to distract her from the guilt she felt as she considered why such precautions were necessary. 'I just- I could never forgive myself if something happened to her.'

Cernd said nothing, though his grey eyes held a certain understanding as he laid a hand over hers, pressing it firmly, and he held it there until the last two of their company finally arrived back.

'There you are!' Cernd called out with a friendly smile, perhaps to show the girl there was no reprimand there waiting for her return. 'We thought you had drowned yourself.'

Fritha grinned, her eyes hard above it, holding up a thumb and forefinger. '_This _close.'

Behind her, Minsc shifted awkwardly where he stood.

'There,' Fritha continued, stepping forward to set the pot of water next to the druid, 'it's already hot.'

'Well, that was very, ah, thoughtful of you, Fritha,' Cernd faltered, the girl already turned away from him, moving to settle on her bedding next to Aerie, the elf sending her an absent nod, the two sat side by side and staring into the fire in companionable silence with the air of defeated comrades. The druid turned to send Jaheira a pointed look, the woman joining him at the fire and between them they set up the tripod and added the leftover meat to the already steaming water, Cernd finally stooping to hang the pot over the fire, a slight frown creasing his brow as he examined the iron bowl.

'Is- is that a dent?'

Shrill giggling erupted from across the fire. Fritha, her head thrown back as she laughed despairingly at the darkened sky, unmindful of their stares and Jaheira shook her head. It was going to be a long evening.

xxx

It was late on in the afternoon, the forest and another day of walking behind them. They had finally left the shelter of the woodlands at about noon, the forests retreating further up the mountainside, and the last few hours had been spent walking a rocky outcrop that skirted the foothills they were heading towards, the plains and valleys of Umar stretching southwards beneath them. Jaheira let her gaze drift to the west. There had been no more snows that day, the clear sky stained a dark palette of orange and magenta as the sun sank behind the hills. It was beautiful up there, the bitter wind against her face giving her an uplifting sense of freedom and she shared a smile with the ranger next to her. Minsc may not have been the wisest of men, but their innate appreciation of such things had proved to be a bond between them time and time again. They would have to stop to make camp again soon, but she wanted to try and reach the foothills before it became too dark and they were close enough now to make it worth chancing.

Jaheira glanced behind her, glad to see that the group seemed to bearing up well after a long day of walking, despite the cold weather. Fritha was bringing up the rear alone, a pointed distance between her and Anomen and Jaheira suspected that whatever they had argued about the day before was still hanging between them. She turned back sharply as Minsc landed a firm hand upon her shoulder, the whole group brought to a halt as he pointed to the forest next to them, the roughly hewn gable of a roof just visible through the trees. The ranger went on alone to scout ahead, returning with a description of a small cabin, not as dilapidated as some of the others had been, the sound of someone chopping wood echoing from somewhere behind it.

Fritha deployed them with no more than a glance and a gesture, Anomen Jaheira and Aerie sent around one side, Fritha drawing her sword as she led Minsc and Cernd around the other. Their approach was cautious and he did not see them at first, the man absorbed in his work, setting each log upon the tree stump he was using as a block to split them with a familiarity that did not much marry with his noble title. He was powerfully built, the muscles fluid under his dark skin as he swung the axe, the short braids of his wiry black hair dancing with the movement. He looked stern, from the neatly cropped beard to the almost permanent frown he wore as he worked. This man on whom so much rested and Fritha's face was pale in her anticipation, though her voice did not betray it.

'Valygar Corthala?'

He started and looked instantly angry with himself, and Jaheira could see him quickly calculating his chances as he glanced about at them, hefting the axe expressively as one who knew how to use it for more than just splitting firewood.

'So, more Cowled ones, or their servants at least; I swear you'll not live to take me back to those damn Wizards!'

'Now, come quietly,' reasoned Fritha sternly, 'the odds are against you and we will not kill you unless you force us.'

'Ha! I would rather die than be used by those Wizards, as well they know.'

_Used?_ So there _was_ more to this than the mages had led them to believe and Jaheira could see the same thought flickering behind Fritha's eyes. The man had been more than martial in his approach so far and the druid could tell from his stance that he would volunteer no more by way of explanations. All they would have to do was attack and the path to Imoen would finally be clear, and Jaheira did not like to contemplate how close Fritha had been to doing just that before the girl sighed deeply.

'What are you talking about?' Fritha questioned dully, her sword already resignedly lowered, 'You did kill two of their number, did you not?'

Valygar nodded once, broad forehead furrowed as though he was not expecting this sudden shift towards leniency.

'That I did, but only when they left me no choice. I was researching something of… family interest. How the Cowled Wizards found out about it I do not know, but their curiosity was piqued as well. I was approached by them and when I refused their offer they took me by force. I will not be a tool by which the greedy and corrupt merely grow more powerful. I escaped in the battle that saw two of them dead and fled the city.'

'You're speaking of the sphere aren't you?' Fritha confirmed. The man's dark eyes were suddenly wide.

'How do you know of that?' he demanded fiercely.

Fritha smiled; it looked sad. 'You led us on quite the hunt to find you,' she pushed her hand into her bag to withdraw a familiar black tome, 'We took this from your house on the docks.'

Valygar almost dropped his axe. 'Lavok's diary! Arvind said they were forced to burn everything.'

'Yes, well, we found it before they could. I've been flicking through it when I've had the time; the diagrams seem to show some sort of planar travelling device.'

Valygar nodded, looking wary. 'That is so. It was by that diary I learnt of the rituals for summoning the sphere back to the Prime. I spent months translating it, though I fear my notes now will be little more than ash.'

'But why take the time to translate it in the first instance?' questioned Anomen, 'You said yourself you did not want the Wizards to obtain the sphere. Or is that because you merely desire its powers for yourself?'

Valygar looked livid by the mere suggestion of it. 'I want _nothing_ of that sphere! My ancestor, Lavok, was- _is_ a necromancer of a power equalled only by his evil! Half our family lies _dead_ because of him! Those surviving took an oath to end his twisted life. But Lavok built the sphere and disappeared centuries ago and our vow was thought in vain. Then I came upon his diary and within it a way to summon him back to this plane. The Cowled Wizards discovered this, of course -it is nigh on impossible to keep anything remotely arcane secret from those jackals in that city. They desired the power of the sphere themselves -the risk to this plane should Lavok escape a minor inconvenience. I knew then I would just have to settle for my life, I could not risk them reaching their goal and loosing his evil on the Prime once more. I escaped the city and I ordered the diary be destroyed, my family's oath to continue unanswered. And now here you stand, diary in one hand, blade for me in the other.' He smiled bitterly, 'How the gods mock me!'

'So what do you propose?' asked Fritha quietly.

He ran a critical eye over them, narrowed and distrustful, though perhaps he felt the risk outweighed the opportunity for after a moment he spoke.

'Well, if you do not plan to kill me now, perhaps I could join with your company and together we can return, call the sphere and end Lavok's evil forever. As payment you can have any of the treasures you find inside the sphere; none of it interests me and the Cowled Wizards cannot have offered you any more for my head.'

Jaheira felt her heart groan, but Fritha merely nodded once.

'It is agreed then. We will make for Imnesvale and then head back to the city from there. If we could stay the night here?'

Valygar dipped his head in the briefest hint of a nod. 'Of course.'

'Good. If you will excuse me a moment.'

A sweep of cloak, a rasp of gravel and Fritha was gone.

She walked until there was no more ground to walk upon, just dropping to her knees as she reached the edge of the cliff, the rolling hills of Umar stretching out before her, all aflame under the dying sun. Her hands seemed to move without a thought from her, sliding gently through the layers of her bag to close about her journal, flicking through the pages to withdraw a folded square of parchment.

She did not open the letter, she knew well enough what it said, the long buried secrets of a man already dead by the time she had read it, and it was kept only as a tangible anchor for her many evanescent memories, her own name written upon the front in that familiar scrolling hand, all she had left of the man she had once called father. But that was all past now, sad but accepted, and it was her future that was the true source of her grief.

Poor Imoen… how long would she be a prisoner in that cage?

Fritha snorted. And how long would _she_ be a prisoner in that life? She had been so _close_ to getting Imoen back, to winning back freedom for them both and now she was right back where she had been when they had first returned from Trademeet. Still over ten thousand gold yet to find, only _now _she had enemies in the vampires and Harpers both, and she was about to add the Cowled Wizards to that inauspicious list -the trick would not be rescuing Imoen, but living long enough even to make the attempt.

Fritha shook her head. She did not want to cry, she was not sad, all her misery boiling away in her anger at the deep injustice of it all. She slipped the letter back between the pages, her fingers brushing against something crisp and whispery, like raffia, and she looked down to see it, bright against the yellowing pages: a small red flower.

It was the one Anomen had given her, its time in the back of her diary allowing finally finish its pressing, and she could not for the life of her fathom why she had even kept the thing. It was dry and frail in her fingers and in that moment she wanted nothing more than to crush it. To destroy it so wholly it was no more than dust and with it could go her feelings; all the hope and longing and bitter disappointment. And then she could sleep. Just lay down there and sleep, until the snows came to cover her and she was gone from the world.

_Perhaps you can just surrender to the next group of Harpers then?_

Fritha felt her whole body convulse, the '_No!'_ physically rippling through her. She did _not_ want _that_! And though it was a hollow comfort at least then she knew in her heart that it was better to struggle on and ache and live, than just to give up and let herself fade away. She sensed someone approaching, but did not turn round, she knew who it would be and sat, silent, waiting for the woman to speak.

'You know we made the right decision.'

Fritha made no answer and after a moment Jaheira continued anyway. 'We _are_ halfway to earning enough coin to pay the Shadow Thieves and Imoen would not wish to be rescued that way.'

_Wouldn't she?_

Imoen was her best friend and Fritha loved her, but it did not make her blind to the fact that the girl could have a bit of a selfish streak when she wanted. Still, Jaheira was right; Imoen would not want an innocent man to have to die because of her. And besides, Fritha did not want to rescue her that way, so whatever Imoen thought on the matter was rather irrelevant.

Jaheira waited again for an answer though with little hope of getting one and in that moment she wished she had not come. Wished she had just shuffled into the cabin with the others to wait. And after a while Fritha would have returned, red-eyed and smiling just as she always did, all full of talk and enthusiasm for their plans and their guest, and Jaheira could have just pretended that everything was fine. But everything was not fine and, in truth, she could barely stand to look at the girl at the moment, because all she saw when she did was someone struggling to stay afloat in a sea of troubles, troubles _she_ had so neatly dropped her in.

Jaheira forced herself to glance down at Fritha again, the girl knelt before her, all her focus on the small dried flower she was twirling between her fingers with a distracted melancholy.

'What is that?'

'A flower of vengeance apparently,' Fritha snorted, slipping it back into her journal and returning both to her bag, 'and kept to serve as a reminder that revenge can take many forms.'

_Ah…_ The squire's infatuation was no longer a secret it seemed. Jaheira watched her, hoping to read some clue as to how the girl felt from her manner, but nothing could be discovered and Jaheira wondered if Fritha even knew herself. The druid sighed. 'He told you, did he not?'

The girl nodded dully. 'Yes. How long have you known?'

Jaheira shrugged. 'About a month.'

Fritha sighed, casting her gaze out beyond the burning hills.

'No good will come of it.'

'It never does.'

A silence fell over them. A bird somewhere in the forest behind them was heralding the dusk and Jaheira wondered how she had failed to hear its piping song before.

'Oh, why does he have to like _me_?' Fritha burst out with sudden frustration, 'I'm all silly and irritating and- and short!'

'Is _that_ how you see yourself?'

'_No_, but I had a pretty good feeling that was how _he_ saw me.'

Jaheira snorted at her sullen humour. 'Well, clearly it is not so, either that or annoying young women of a diminutive stature are what he values in a lover.'

'_Lover_,' the girl repeated in a strangled voice, her face going a shade of pink that could have rivalled the sunset, 'Gods, don't even say it! The mere _word_ makes me feel uncomfortable.'

Jaheira sighed. It was easy to forget how young Fritha was sometimes and how _very_ sheltered her life had been until just earlier that year. And though she was just as willing to giggle and chatter about _boys_ as any other girl, it was always borne just as any other game, to be won and lost, yes, but not something to fret over seriously.

And perhaps, Jaheira considered, that was the way you had to play it, when those you pinned your affections upon were either driven away by your bloody existence or died helping you survive it. Love just a playful throwaway thing, like the brightly coloured beads and thin dyed scarves Fritha was always so delighted by when they wandered Amn's many markets and Jaheira was pretty sure that however Anomen had presented his case, it was unlikely to have been like that.

'Well, we shall just have to raise another ten thousand then,' the girl beneath her sighed, dusting off her knees as she straightened, 'Come on, we shouldn't be making our fugitive any _more_ wary.'

xxx

The cabin was all shadows, the only light from the flames that were licking and flickering in the fireplace, illuminating the seven figures sat before it in a uneven half-circle, the dusty floorboards just visible in patches here and there in amongst the carpet of bedding. Valygar took a long draft of the hot tea. It was pleasant to taste a Kara-Turan blend after so long drinking the plain bark teas he had been brewing himself, though he never would have admitted as much. The meal they had shared had been a fare he was much more used to, a plain soup of dried meats and pulses and the heavy dark rye waybread he was more than familiar with.

He took another drink of tea, eyes drifting over the cabin that had been his home for more than a fortnight now. He had come upon the place when investigating what turned out to be spurious rumours of the Umar Witch in those hills a year or so ago, he and in his group of the time sheltering there a night. It had likely been a fur-trappers cabin, though disused for what looked to have been at least a decade, probably from when the over-hunting of the local wolves sent them further into foothills. But the building itself was still solid for this neglect and he recalled noting at the time that it seemed a good place to remember for future use, basic though it was, that main room empty of any furniture to speak of, filled instead with rusted traps, bundles of rope and racks, an old wooden sledge rotting in the corner, and Valygar knew the sole bedroom was little better.

A lull seemed to have fallen over them since their meal, everyone taking tea in a silence that was slowly becoming more uncomfortable as time passed and when the druid, Jaheira asked him to continue his tale, he had no refusal to make.

'My ancestor, the necromancer, Lavok, built the sphere and disappeared in it over five hundred years ago. Ever since the Cowled Wizards learnt of its existence, they have wanted its secrets. I have shared with them none of the knowledge I gleaned from the diary but they have theorised, and I regret correctly, that the sphere will be called back to this plane by the presence of my blood along with the proper rituals.'

'_That_ is why wanted him dead _or_ alive,' muttered Jaheira. Valygar nodded.

'Yes. They tried to take me by force when I refused to aid them willingly and I fled the city. I had hidden away here -successfully I thought, until you arrived.'

'But how can Lavok still be alive?' questioned the elf -Aerie, as the others had called her, though the fact she was a mage was what had truly snared his attention. Valygar shrugged, trying to keep his manner neutral even if it could not be friendly.

'When he left this plane he was already centuries old; Lavok used his necromancy, stealing the essence of other blood relatives, to extend his life. I am the last of the Corthala line.'

The young knight, Anomen, frowned. 'But this Lavok has been gone for five hundred years, surely you cannot attribute all their deaths to him.'

'Not to him directly, but his legacy was my family's downfall,' Valygar answered after a pause, unsure of how much he wished to reveal to those who he had only just met. 'We have been cursed, for want of a better word, with an unusual aptitude for magic, the power slowly but inevitably corrupting each member as it is wont to do. I was the only one who turned my back upon my heritage and the only one who has survived. I devoted my life and my skills to hunting those mages who have fallen to corruption -recompense, if you like, for never being able to deal with Lavok.'

'Is that how you met Arvind and Sangeeta?' asked Fritha with an unusually incisive look and for a moment she was there before him, glossy black hair escaping its ties to fall across her face as it often would, shading those angled green eyes as she caught him with that penetrating gaze, as though his soul was suddenly laid bare before her.

'Yes,' Valygar managed finally, taking another sip of tea to loosen his dry throat, 'Amn is a place where such corruption is not only accepted but encouraged, the Cowled Wizards' a law unto themselves. As a group we made our base in Eshpurta, though we travelled all over Amn and on occasion beyond, ending the existence of those who believed that arcane power set them above morality and laws. Then, last autumn, rumours reached us of a small group of powerful mages who had discovered a long buried tomb of arcane power in a cave network in the Troll Mountains, enslaving one of the nearby gnomish villages to work on excavating the site. Further investigations seemed to confirm this and we travelled to the site ourselves to put an end to their evil. It was not until too late we realised the trap.

'There were no slaves, no ancient ruins, though the mages were real enough. They had heard of our work about Amn and decided to put an end to it. They were more than prepared too, the mages and their apprentices allying themselves with the trolls of that cave. Though we were skilled in fighting such enemies, we were outnumbered and outmanoeuvred it was a slaughter, the ensuing battle claiming the lives of the mages and most of our company as well. Only myself, Arvind, Sangeeta and few of the others survive. Broken, we parted ways and I had returned home to Athkatla to my family's old estate when I found it. I had believed all my mother's books of that nature destroyed, when I discovered the diary in one of the attics. When I realised what I had found, knew it could be the chance our family had been waiting for to fulfil our vow to end Lavok's evil for good. I made contact with my old group and they rallied to assist me. They risked much to help me research this lead and we had plans even for them to accompany me in Lavok's defeat, though that was before I was discovered by the Wizards. But perhaps it is better that you came upon me as you did -they were capable warriors and loyal friends both, but they are not of your skills and they have risked too much for me already. But,' Valygar continued, feeling he had done more than enough speaking for one usually so taciturn, 'my reasons you know much of. I know little of your own. Most mercenaries would require a lot more gold to turn coat on the Cowled Wizards.'

'Never would we work willingly for such evil men as they!' the Rashemi, Minsc stated boldly, 'That they would send us after an innocent man -why Boo's fur bristles in his outrage!'

'Indeed,' nodded the grey-haired Cernd, 'It could be said we were misinformed as to the nature of the assignment, namely your innocence. Our agreement with them is void.'

Valygar raised a cool eyebrow. 'I doubt _they_ will see it as such. They may seek retribution for this betrayal.'

Fritha snorted. 'They can join the queue.'

Next to her Jaheira sighed, hastening to explain, 'I fear you are not the only one among us being hunted unjustly. Fritha and I are currently being pursued by the Harpers.'

'The Harpers?' Valygar repeated, suddenly wondering if this group he had allied himself with were not so moral as they had first made out; they _had_ agreed to work for the Cowled Wizards, after all. The ranger made no attempt to hide his suspicions either, his eyes narrowed as he questioned, 'Why would a group dedicated to the good of Faerûn have cause to hunt two simple mercenaries?''

Jaheira frowned, though she looked more pained than insulted by his insinuation.

'There was… a misunderstanding, a corrupt few poisoning the opinions of the whole against us. They tried to imprison Fritha and when we refused to co-operate, matters ended in bloodshed.'

'And what did you do to earn their ire in the first instance?'

The druid faltered.

'Oh, let's just tell him; I don't care,' came Fritha impatiently, the girl turning to him to add, 'It's because I'm a Bhaalspawn.'

'A _Bhaalspawn?_'

'One of the Children, yes,' the knight corrected subtly, 'We have all travelled with her months now, some of our number even longer -you could not meet someone more devoted to the service of good,' he added fervently, earning a scowl from the girl herself.

Valygar made no reply to this, merely turning back to Fritha. 'You admit such very freely.'

She just shrugged. 'Well, the rest of Amn probably knows by now; I don't see why you should be the only one left in the dark.' She finished her tea and clapped the cup down upon the floorboards with a sound _clunk_. 'Now, on to _far_ more important matters. If we leave here tomorrow, we should be able to reach Imnesvale in two days and from there-'

'Should we set out tomorrow?' Valygar cut in as politely as one ever could, 'Though supplies are scarce, I wonder if it would be better to remain here. The longer I am in civilisation, the greater the risk the Wizards will discover our alliance and I will need time to translate Lavok's diary once more. I have no resources here, though I may be able to get message to Arvind-'

'No need for that,' interrupted Fritha blithely, 'I can read it.'

'You can _read_ it?' repeated Valygar, 'Just like that?'

Fritha nodded. 'Oh, yes. It's written in Loross; half the books back home were written in the same. Well, maybe a quarter,' she corrected absently, 'Netherese was pretty popular too. As was Aragrakh, though I've forgotten most of what I've learnt of that by now. I must get back into it at some point, before it's all lost to me.' She shook herself, turning back to him, 'Anyway, my Loross is still pretty much intact, I'm sure it will be fine.'

She was smiling mildly at him, as though she did not realise or did not care how odd she seemed. Valygar nodded once.

'Indeed, I see no reason, then, not to return to the city as soon as possible.'

'And with that in mind,' added Jaheira 'perhaps we would be wise to bed down for the night.'

Valygar unfolded his blankets, arranging them loosely over the furs he would sleep upon. He had laid out his bedding a good distance from the others and the fireplace they were gathered about, his own bed but a stride from the front door, though if anyone had noted as much, no comment was made. The ranger reached out a hand to drag his bag within arm's reach too. He had not unpacked since arriving there, days though it had been, the feeling never quite leaving him that he may need to depart in a hurry. He turned his back to the others, his body shielding the movement from view as he dipped his hand into the top to fetch out his leather-sheathed hunting knife, Valygar secreting it in amongst his blankets. It felt unpleasant to take such precautions and yet it seemed unwise not to. After all, they had been willing to kill him for the Wizards but hours ago. And yet it could all be for naught anyway, this whole charade of switching alliances merely a pretence to lure him back to city without a fight.

He glanced back to the others, checking whether anyone had noticed this transfer, but they were all seemingly occupied in bedding down, Jaheira banking up the fire, while the knight, Anomen seemed to be offering Fritha a place closer to the hearth, the girl turning from him with a dull shake of her head.

Valygar turned back to his own bedding, no more preparations to make, though he did not wish to be the first to lie down, the man deeply aware of and uncomfortable with the vulnerability of his situation.

'_Trust is for the brave, ne,'_ trilled a voice behind his eyes, warm with the smile that had so often shone upon him. Valygar shook the thought and the voice away, no wish for the memories to follow him as he at last lay down and closed his eyes for a restless sleep.


	68. Wisely and slow

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Wisely and slow **

'_Auril's breath, it's cold! How much further is it to Imnesvale?'_

Fritha looked about them. The forest trail they were walking was familiar enough from the two previous times they had travelled it to and from the temple ruins, though it would be a good few miles to reach the village yet.

'About another three hours.'

Fritha heard a deep sigh and only just suppressed one herself. Since their fugitive, Valygar, had been revealed as the innocent party he was and all her hopes of any quick resolution to her troubles had been dashed in one fell blow, Fritha was finding it difficult to drag her heart from the disappointment it seemed to have been plunged. And with finding a fresh campsite and a group of tracks that looked unfortunately like they belonged to another mercenary band only yesterday, she wondered if she should even make the effort and bother trying.

Fritha glanced to the pair just ahead of her, Anomen walking abreast with Jaheira in silence. She let her eyes wander his back, his short hair forming a neat line across the nape of his neck, a good inch of tanned skin showing above his cloak and she wondered how he could bear to be without a scarf on so cold a day. Fritha dropped her face to bury it in the collar of her own cloak, forestalling any memories of _her_ scarf before they could surface and returning her attention to one of her more immediate troubles.

'So, what do you think then?' she asked quietly.

'_Well, he's barely even looked at you these past couple of days-'_

'-that we know of.'

'_Yes, that we know of. Perhaps he's realised that you're just not that good a catch.'_

'Oh thanks!' Fritha laughed, half-amused, half-stung.

'_You know what I mean. Its not like you were particularly nice in your refusal.'_

'Well, no, but he caught me by surprise and it was really awkward.'

'_And how do you think _he_ felt?'_

'What do you mean?'

'_Fritha, you marched off shouting 'no, no, no'.'_

'I did not _shout_,' she corrected, the feelings of guilt she had been trying to ignore since the incident only growing stronger as she was reminded of their meeting, the last two days giving her plenty of time to think of a _thousand_ ways she could have handled it better. 'And, of course, it sounds bad when you put it like _that_.'

'_Well, how would you put it then?'_

Fritha pushed her face even further into her collar, her breath condensing on the wool to leave it damp and slightly itchy.

'I meant it for the best,' she mumbled, her voice small.

'_I know you did, dear. I mean, we found those tracks only a day ago; the time for making ties here in Amn has long passed… Does the knowledge of this upset you?'_

Fritha sighed and finally straightened, the rush of cold fresh air against the lower half of her face almost pleasant had it not held such a bite.

'No, no more than it should… So, do you think he hates me now then?'

'_Well, not _hates_ you, but he probably just finds it hard to be around you. I'm sure it will get better with time… Oh, maybe we can set him up with Aerie!'_

Fritha rolled her eyes, fighting against a smile. 'No, no and no again, we are _not _doing that.'

'_Ooo, jealous?'_

'Of course not, but I couldn't bear another relationship, with all the fights and the sulking. Aerie and Haer'Dalis were bad enough.'

'_Oh, Haer'Dalis… I do miss him.'_

'Me too. I-'

'Fritha, what _are_ you muttering about?'

Fritha glanced to up see Anomen and Jaheira had halted, the druid staring at her accusingly, her frown not quite masking the wariness to her eyes.

'Hmm? Oh, just reciting a few of my old Loross lessons; you know, getting a bit of practise in for the translation of that diary. _Yemenagris_: I necromance, _Yemenagrit_: you necromance, _Yemenagritus_: he, she, it necromances.'

Fritha beamed, wishing the pair of them would just turn around and carry on walking. The woman's gaze remained fixed on her a moment longer though before she relented, returning to their path with only a slight shake of her head to betray her unease. Anomen was still looking in her direction but a glance risked to his face showed he was focused a good few inches above her head and Fritha felt a sudden pang. When had he become the only one she could talk to?

Of course, she could_ talk_ to anyone she pleased. But everything had felt somehow false since they had left Athkatla, all the words from her skin, dull and pleasant and what she was _supposed_ to say, rather than what she truly felt; the civil discourse of strangers. Jaheira was clearly still writhing with the guilt of her perceived betrayal, something Fritha could not quite seem to sincerely assuage her of while the Harpers still stalked her every step, while Aerie had been quietly introspective since their talk two days before, something Fritha felt even less inclined to interrupt. And as for Minsc, Fritha adored the man as much as she had anyone, but there was only so long she could bear to have him trying to cheer her before she felt obliged to pretend it had worked and that was worse than talking to either of the women. Fritha glanced to the group ahead of her, Minsc and their newest companion, Valygar, at their head, the pair well-equipped to lead the way.

No, it had been Anomen who had been the one she had turned to for a few days now, the man seemingly stern enough to trust with her darker thoughts without any worry that he would take them to heart. She knew now though that _that_ assumption might have been a touch hasty.

Fritha sighed to herself. Of all the times such a revelation could have be brought to her, then was surely the worst. Then, when Harpers hunted her outside the city and a whole guild of vampires awaited her within it and she was clinging desperately to the thought that she was only ten thousand gold away from escaping it all. And so that left her there, in her customary position at the back of the group and sharing her troubles and fears and general chit-chat with the only person she had yet to estrange: herself. Not that such a thing bothered her, apart from as the symptom of what it was, the desperate chattering of a burdened heart. She rubbed her chest as though to ease the weight of it, though she could barely even feel it through her mail. Oh well, only three more hours to go.

Fritha was more careful for those last few miles though, not wishing to give Jaheira any more cause to worry and ironically she occupied herself going over what she could recall of her Loross, running through the long lists of vocabulary she had learnt by rote, conjugation rules and their obligatory exemptions and anything she could bring to mind.

xxx

Anomen glanced behind him. Fritha was still talking to herself and now appeared to be counting on her fingers into the bargain, the girl reaching her fourth before she paused, squinting as though she was trying to see something far in the distance. He turned back to their path not wanting Jaheira to notice as well, the trees before them at last thinning into the sodden plains of Imnesvale. He had been the same for the last few days, forever trying to steal glances at the girl, almost as though to reassure himself that she was still there, Fritha's usual position trudging after them at the back of their group making it harder to be inconspicuous about the thing. Not that _she _ever noticed, always with her head dipped and focused on the path before her as she muttered to herself, the occasional laugh drifting ahead to him on the cold air.

Jaheira had told him not to worry at first, that the girl was just disappointed over Valygar and prone to such when she was upset. But even Jaheira had seemed anxious that day. Anomen wished he could just talk to Fritha but he was not sure what to say and he was finding it difficult to be around her now, his feelings still raw from herso_ wholehearted_ refusal of his affections. Not that he had given up, but he had told he would prove his regard with actions and so far he could think of nothing. Considering the lives they were forced to live, he would have thought it would have been easy, but the dangers they faced almost everyday now had made even saving someone's life habitual and he remained at a loss.

The small collection of roofs that made up Imnesvale were slowly creeping into view as they moved across the plain, the sky above them streaked amber and grey as the dusk fell. At least Fritha seemed more cheered as they finally arrived at the village, her new best friend rushing from her garden as soon as she saw them.

'Fritha, you're back!'

'_Kaat-je_!' sang Fritha, scooping the girl up to dance with her, humming a tune he recognised as the Death's Waltz and Anomen felt suddenly cold. '_Fa laa la laa la laa la laa la laaaa_.'

Kaatje was laughing brightly, seemingly quite comfortable perched on Fritha's hip. 'So, did you find the man you were looking for?'

Fritha nodded once sweeping her free arm towards the dark-skinned ranger.

'Why, yes indeed, though instead of killing him we decided to let him join our company; Kaatje, meet Valygar.'

The girl dipped her head and bobbed in the semblance of a curtsey. Valygar nodded curtly, frowning down at the pair and looking more than a little perturbed by them both.

'Ooo, he looks scary,' Kaatje whispered audibly. Fritha nodded.

'I know.'

'Ka-' came a voice and they turned to see her blond-haired brother, Valsben stood in the doorway of the house next to them. 'Oh, good evening,' he greeted rather formally, 'Vincent mentioned you had returned to the area. I hope your travels go well.'

'Very well, thank you,' answered Fritha just as politely, Kaatje snickering into her shoulder, 'And congratulations upon your engagement.'

The lad flushed slightly, grinning in a way that seemed much more natural than his previous civility, nodding his thanks and excusing himself as he turned back in to the house, adding almost as an afterthought, 'Kaatje, Ma says dinner's ready.'

'All right… _Honeylamb_.'

The lad paused in the doorway but did not glance back to confirm the quiet cackling of the two girls. Fritha gently set Kaatje back on her feet.

'Can we still meet later, Fritha?'

'Course! Just come down to the inn when you're finished.'

'Kaatje?' called a matronly voice from somewhere inside the house.

'Coming, Ma! Goodbye Valygar, goodbye everyone.'

The common room of the inn was warm and very welcome after so long out in the wilds, everyone disappearing to their rooms to quickly wash, and it was not half an hour later they were all back in the tavern, gathered about a table and sharing a meal together. Fritha was sat across from him, looking much happier for this chance to wash and change her clothes, the girl bright and pretty in the lamplight and Anomen found the sight as sustaining as the food in his dish.

She had been wearing her hair down since the weather had turned, neatly tucked into the collar of her cloak, he assumed to keep the cold air from her neck. It was damp now from where she had rinsed it and she had made an attempt to fasten it back as they ate, though it was already fighting back. He watched as she leaned forward slightly, a curl that hung much shorter than the rest escaping the ties to fall over her shoulder and just miss her stew. She frowned, hooking it behind her ear and Anomen shared her annoyance. He had liked that curl. Would have even gone so far as to say it was his favourite in his weaker moments when he indulged in such foolishness. Always the first to escape the pins and hang over her shoulder in one long neat ringlet. Now it only just passed her collarbone, serving as a constant remind of the one who had shortened it.

Anomen turned away, thankfully distracted as Jaheira took up her burden as the group's voice and turned politely to their newest companion.

'So, how long were you actually in the hills here, Valygar?'

The ranger slowly finished his mouthful to answer her. 'About two tenday or more. I left the city on the very night the Cowled Wizards first attempted to capture me and summon the sphere. I thought myself quite well-hidden and was prepared to spend the winter up there. It would have been hard, I do not doubt, but I have always preferred to spend my time in the wild -though it is good to eat something that is not rabbit meat bulked out with pearl barley,' he added, lips twitching with the first smile Anomen had seen him bear.

'The Cowled Ones have much to answer for,' quipped Cernd, though Valygar merely nodded gravely at this mention of his arcane enemies.

'Indeed, they do. They have wronged your company as well as mine, though I expect nothing else from their kind. I must admit, with what you have endured both recently and in the past concerning these mages, I am surprised you would have one in your company.'

Everyone seemed to turn instinctively to Aerie, the girl looking quite caught out, a spoonful of soup halted halfway to her mouth.

'Forgive me, Aerie,' the ranger continued calmly, 'I do not mean to attack you personally, but I have found that magic can corrupt even the best of intentions, twisting souls until they are unrecognisable. Believe me, for I know well of what I speak.'

Minsc shook his head, looking uncharacteristically aggravated by his words, though he did not raise his voice any more than usual.

'No, no, no! Boo says this is not so with all wizards and it is not so with our Aerie. Some like Irenicus and those mages that stole away little Imoen, yes, they are corrupt and deserve your mistrust. But Rashemen is a land _ruled_ by witches and it shines like a beacon in the Eastern lands.'

Valygar merely shrugged impassively. 'I understand you find it difficult to accept my beliefs, but they are born only of my experience and when others choose to ignore such, it becomes all the more important that I maintain this vigil against the corruption others would refuse to acknowledge.'

Aerie blinked slowly, looking about them all before venturing, 'Well, that is reasonable enough, I suppose...'

A pause, Fritha glancing to the elf with an unreadable look and Aerie flushed, straightening slightly in her seat, her voice much surer and calm with a maturity Anomen had seen in her only recently.

'Though I do not feel your vigilance will be needed in my case. I know of your troubles with Lavok, Valygar, and I don't think I could ever be like that. My magic is a gift I use to help people, and that's all.'

A silence held the table, Valygar finally giving the briefest nod in acceptance of her opinion, and the tension over them passed, Fritha sending the elf a wink in the stillness that followed, Aerie dropping her face to grin into her dish. And from there the talk moved on to the less contentious subject of their return to Athkatla, the group discussing their route and how they would enter the city without alerting the Cowled Wizards to their betrayal, and Fritha withdrew from the conversation completely, the girl giving her plate her undivided attention much to Jaheira's frustration.

'So, we are agreed that we should try to enter the sphere as soon as possible once in the city?'

Valygar nodded once. 'It would seem the wisest course. I have no idea how far the mages' powers stretch. They always had an uncanny way of finding me when I was still in the city; they may know the instant I set foot back within its walls.'

'Then we should buy the supplies for the ritual here. And Lavok's notes will have to be translated before we reach Athkatla,' came Aerie. Jaheira nodded, turning promptly to the girl at her side.

'Will that be possible, Fritha?'

'Hmm?'

'I _said_ will you be able to translate that diary before we reach the city?'

Fritha continued to frown a moment before she seemed to piece together what she was being asked.

'Oh, yes -well, the important bits anyway. I wouldn't have minded having a glance at a dictionary for some of the passages, but I'm sure I'll muddle through somehow.'

The druid sighed. 'Fritha, I do not think-'

'Hey now, Kaatje,' came a gruff voice from the bar behind them, Anomen glancing back to see the innkeep, Vincent, glaring sternly at the girl herself as Kaatje peered shyly round the door, 'you know you young uns ain't supposed to be in here.'

'It's okay, she's here for me,' said Fritha quickly, already on her feet and cloak in hand -her dinner presumably finished- and Kaatje smiled.

'Hello Fritha, I brought my skipping rope.'

'Great! Well, I'll see you all later, then.'

The pair were gone before any reply could be uttered. Jaheira leaned back in her chair with a sigh, Valygar muttering something under his breath as he went back to his dish. Anomen's eyes were still fixed upon the door, the man turning back to the table only for Aerie to catch his eye, the girl sending him a surprisingly impish smile and in spite of everything Anomen felt himself returning it. After all, what else could they do?

xxx

Fritha smiled, watching Kaatje as the girl gazed through the small window next to them, the peeling shutters thrown wide to reveal a stunning view northwards over the twilit village and the dark forest beyond, though the girl's attention was focused much higher that that. Fritha had spent the last half hour showing her the few constellations which had just emerged, the young girl nodding gravely as she followed her hand, taking her lessons to heart.

The sun had not yet set when they'd left the inn, the pair of them going to visit Delon in the north of the village to play at skipping and marbles before Blayel called his younger brother inside for his dinner and they had ended up there, in the old barn behind Minster Lloyd's house. Kaatje had led her to it, telling her as they climbed the ladder to sit in the hayloft, that many people had camped in it on the night of the Highharvestide festival, though now it appeared to be used to store feed and hay for the winter, the girls sat in the eaves upon the fine mattress of hay.

'What's that one, Fritha?'

Fritha leaning forward to follow Kaatje's hand to a bright star that had just emerged above the darkened treetops, two lesser stars hanging either side.

'Hmm, oh, it's the _Lover's Eye_. Those three together make up _Sune's Bow_.'

Kaatje nodded, eyes closing a moment as she made to remember this and Fritha felt strangely sad. The girl was clever and, even more importantly, sensitive to the world around her. Indeed, Merella seemed to have noticed as much while she had still lived. But unfortunately, the ranger had perhaps been alone in that, Kaatje always in the shadow of her boisterous older brother who, through no fault of his own, had rather monopolised the attentions of his parents, first with his disobedience and now with his newly found maturity and, as usual, Kaatje remained unnoticed. Still, _every cloud_, Fritha considered as she leaned back against the wall behind her. The girl was afforded much more freedom for it and she had a strong enough will that she would likely achieve whatever she wished either with or without any encouragement.

'What's that tune, Fritha? You were singing it before when we danced,' Kaatje questioned and Fritha realised she had been humming all that while.

'Hmm? Oh, it's The Death's Waltz.'

'Death has a _dance_?'

Fritha laughed. 'Well, so the composer thought. It is a sad tune for a sad story. Death may usually leave His dark realm only to collect the souls of living. But once a year, on the night of Feast of the Moon, He is allowed to leave the Land of the Dead to come to Faerûn and join one of the street festivals that many of the cities hold, for one lone night of dance and revelry.'

Kaatje frowned slightly. 'Wouldn't he sort of stand out? He _is_ a skeleton.'

Fritha smiled. 'That's just what He wants us to think, so He can move amongst us unnoticed in His true form.' She leaned in, her voice little more than a whisper, 'A pale, gaunt youth with shaggy black hair and eyes that speak of darkness.'

It was rather how Fritha imagined Renal Bloodscalp would have looked when he was younger and Kaatje was clearly impressed by this vision too, the girl nodding silently for her to continue.

'Now on one such night He meets and falls in love with a beautiful girl.'

'And what does she look like?' asked Kaatje promptly. Fritha shrugged.

'Ah, I don't know. Blonde probably -they usually are. Anyway, they dance and revel all night and He finally reveals to her His true nature: He is Death, Lord of the Dead and He wants to take her back to His realm and make her His lady. But she is frightened and runs away. Through the twisting chaos of the Moon Carnival He makes a pursuit, hoping to explain and win her heart, but the sunrise comes before He can reach her. At the end of the song, Death must leave her in the world of the living as He returns alone to His own domain.'

'Good,' said Kaatje firmly.

'Good?' Fritha laughed, 'Kaatje, it's suppose to be _tragic_.'

'But why? If he's Death, won't taking her to the land of the dead,' she dropped her voice, leaning in slightly as though they were talking of something they shouldn't, 'well, it would be like _killing_ her.'

Fritha made a gesture somewhere between a nod and shrug. 'Well, yes, but He did not choose to be Death, Kaatje -_that's_ the tragedy.'

'Well, I still can't see why he couldn't just get a girl who was already dead,' Kaatje muttered practically and Fritha laughed.

'Well, maybe dead girls lack that spark of verve that Death finds appealing in a partner. Ah, look, you can see _The Hunter_ already,' she sighed, pointing to a single bright star that had just crested the horizon. 'It's getting late. Should we not be getting you back?'

Kaatje shook her head, plucking three long stalks from the hay beneath her and absently moving to plait them.

'No, Mari's parents and sisters have come over to talk about the _wedding_; they won't notice I'm gone for ages yet.' She sighed deeply, tossing the twist of hay off into the darkness. 'I'm _never _going to get married; I don't want a husband to boss me around. I'm going to grow up and be a ranger like Merella was.'

Fritha grinned. 'Really? Because I think young Delon might have a mind to proposing in a couple of years,' she teased, taking up the girl's braid to playfully tickle her with the end.

'Fritha!' Kaatje cried, batting her away as she laughed, a comfortable silence falling over them and somewhere in the forest behind the barn an owl called out and Fritha imagined that all the tiny night creatures shared a shiver.

'Fritha, do you think you'll ever get married?

'No, I don't think so.'

The girl nodded sympathetically. 'Yes, I see your problem. You're not like Mari, you can't just marry someone like _Vals_…' said Kaatje, the disdain with which she spoke his name indicating that she did not consider her brother to be much of a catch, 'You should marry a prince!'

Fritha frowned slightly. 'I don't think we'd have much in common.'

Kaatje nodded, gazing out the window as she gave the matter further consideration.

'Maybe,' she offered slowly, 'maybe you could marry Death, Fritha. You could meet him at a carnival like that girl did. _You_ wouldn't be frightened and the Feast of the Moon is not long away.'

Fritha laughed. 'Goodness, Kaatje, what a morbid thought -though not one without merit,' she added with a calculating grin, her voice low and breathy as she continued. 'I would see him, an island of calm darkness in the tempest of colour and noise that is the Waterdeep Carnival and together we would dance all night. And then, as the sun makes to rise, he would take me past the veil to his great gloaming hall, where his court flits and flutters in their decaying finery, and there we would hold rule, together forever more…'

'_Wow_,' breathed Kaatje softly, 'That sounds-' A clang somewhere outside the barn made them both start, 'What was that?'

Fritha swallowed, nervous herself; the Harpers surely would not try anything within Imnesvale…

'I- I'll go and see.'

She shifted quietly to the edge of the loft and dropped silently into the darkness, landing easily enough in amongst the sacks of feed and drawing her sword as she crept towards the doors. She stopped as she reached them, her heart quickening as she strained to hear.

Another rustle and something creaked ominously -it was just outside.

Fritha glanced back to send Kaatje a reassuring nod in the gloom before she turned, her hand slowly reaching for the handle when the door swung away from her and all four people screamed in chorus as Fritha was suddenly before two white-faced adolescents.

'_Valsben? _And_ Mari_?' she gasped, sheathing her sword clumsily in her shock, '_Good grief!_ What in Hells are you two sneaking about out here for?'

'We-We're sorry, my lady,' stuttered Mari, her face even whiter now she had noticed her blade, 'the barn- well, it's usually empty.'

The couple suddenly looked rather sheepish, Valsben already going pink and Fritha really did not want to think any more about that.

'Well, then just, ah, be more careful in future,' she finished sternly, 'Come on, Kaatje, it's time we got you home.'

The girl relented without too much protestation and they walked to her house still talking of the stars and how Madulf had said he would begin to teach Kaatje some of the forest crafts once the spring came around. The girl's house was but a few paces away now and their talk faded, Fritha gently lifting Kaatje over her gate –according to the girl, it shrieked like a banshee- and Fritha watched as she carefully opened her door with a practised hand, the sounds of laughter and talk instantly flooding out with the shaft of light. One last grin and Kaatje had slipped inside and Fritha was stood in the darkness once more.

She smiled, turning to walk back down the hill, the village laid out before her, houses and the inn all gathered about the town square, the stone dais set towards the southern end, its broken pillars, spires of differing lengths silhouetted against the dark blue sky like some great stone crown. The light from the windows of the inn were casting a friendly glow over the building and Fritha was rather looking forward to returning to her warm dry room and the bliss of sleeping in a proper bed after so long, the girl almost to the door when a voice called out from the darkness.

'Fritha?'

She was so startled she actually jumped, the girl whirling the see the broad form of Anomen sat on the dais behind her, half-hidden where he was leant back against one of the cracked stone pillars.

'Gods, Anomen,' she gasped, her heart still beating wildly as she approached him, 'you've just taken ten years off me!'

He dipped his head briefly, the light from the inn casting the strong angles of his face into sharp relief. 'Your pardon, I did not mean to startle you. Will you sit with me a while?'

Fritha frowned, instantly feeling her reluctance though she sighed and let it go; it was not as though she could avoid him forever. She sank down onto the cold stone next to him and it was only then she noticed the bottle in his hand. He saw her looking and passed it to her without a word, the girl taking it, turning back to gaze at the warm light of the inn as she took a quick draught, the spirits burning her throat.

'I remember you and Nalia dancing out here in the rain,' he continued absently as she passed the bottle back to him, 'And then again at the Highharvestide Festival. I almost asked you to dance, but the boy, Valsben, cut in and then I had no opportunity. Your faced was grazed; I remember thinking that, even so, you still looked very pretty for it.'

Fritha sighed, feeling suddenly sad and rather wishing she could have another mouthful of whatever he was drinking. But he did not offer again and she did not ask. It was colder out there in the unsheltered square and her fingers beginning to hurt; she had left her gloves in her room in her haste to leave with Kaatje. She distractedly moved a hand up to breathe on them, the chink of glass on stone catching her attention as Anomen set the bottle down to turn to her.

'Here let me…'

He moved to take her hand, but she pulled back from the contact, flushing with an embarrassment which quickly turned to guilt as she saw the hurt on his face.

'No, they're fine, ah, thanks.'

He nodded, returning to his bottle and Fritha swallowed tightly, wishing she could take it back; somehow take it _all_ back. Everything was different now. Before she wouldn't have given it a second thought, her hands were cold, his hands were not; it would just have been Anomen being nice. But something had change between them the instant he had given her that flower and now everything felt foreign to her, all awkward and confusing.

'My lady, I feel we must talk.'

Ah, the immortal words were spoken and the warmth of her blush seemed but a distant memory in view of the ice that now hung heavy and dull in her stomach. Fritha drew a deep breath, steeling herself before nodding once.

'I would talk about the previous day, when I spoke of my feelings for you. I understand that it came as a surprise, something that I feel was not helped by the way my declaration was borne.' Anomen turned to her, his look earnest, 'I- I understand you may find me a poor suitor, Fritha, but however inarticulate the expression, the feelings behind it are most sincere.'

Fritha sighed deeply; that was rather the problem.

'Anomen, your poetic ability, or lack there of, has nothing to do with it. And I would consider the fact you think it would as an indicator of our unsuitability.'

'Well, then what is it about me that you find so objectionable? If you do not tell me which qualities are… _unsuitable_, how am I supposed to change?'

'_Change?' _she repeated rather more shrilly than she'd intended in her haste to reply, 'Anomen, that's the last thing in the _world _I would want! You don't need to change, you are fine as you are.'

He stared down at her, searching her face for the truth of it before he sighed, turning away as he tipped the bottle skyward for another mouthful. 'It is Eriyn, is it not?'

'Anomen, I've only met the man three times in my life. This isn't about him. This is about you and I. I just don't think that our relationship is one that would be enhanced by moving in this direction; I always saw you as a sort of…' Fritha trailed off uncertainly. The obvious choice here would have been 'brother', but that wasn't strictly true, not unless as a child she'd been hoping for a brother who would have likely spent his time bossing her about and telling tales on her to Father Whelan. Minsc was _definitely_ the more brotherly.

'My lady?'

'Gaaaahhhh! This is exactly what I mean!' she cried, 'We are not meant to be! You are clearly meant for someone who thinks being called 'my lady' is _positively __charming _and I… I am meant to be with someone who can remember my _name_.'

'I can remember your name, Fritha, it has been haunting me ever since we met.'

Fritha snorted. 'What rot! You couldn't stand me for the first fortnight.'

Anomen mouthed a moment, seemingly caught out by the truth of it before he drew himself up, looking stern.

'You are correct. You were infuriating and wilful and- and foolhardy! But then-' he paused, his voice quietening with a sigh, 'but then I found I rather liked being infuriated by you, and worrying for you when danced off on some fool's errand and I- I like you so completely, Fritha.'

Fritha felt her heart groan. 'Oh, Anomen…'

'All this time, I know I did not speak of it, but I tried in every way to show you without words my regard.' He shook his head, suddenly frustrated, 'I just cannot understand how you did not notice!'

'And why in the Hells would I?' Fritha burst out indignantly, 'We spend half of all our time together arguing and you said on more than one occasion I reminded you of your _sister_!'

'But those evenings we went out about the city together?'

'Evenings which _Simon_ invited me to. What was I supposed to think?'

Anomen drew back, blanched. 'You-you favour Simon?'

'Of course I bloody don't!' she snapped, 'I wouldn't be cruel enough to curse so bright a youth with my affections.'

'Curse…' he repeated and Fritha sudden realised how such must have sounded, the man staring down at her his eyes full of a dewy compassion.

'This has nothing to do with me being a Bhaalspawn!' she interjected quickly.

'Do not use that word!'

'Why? You never cared before!'

'I care now!' he snapped, the pair glaring defiantly at each other a moment before he sighed and shook his head, and Fritha turned away as he continued. 'And if not the fact you are one of the Children, then why else would you consider your regard as something unwelcome? That you have incurred the wrath of the Harpers or the displeasure of the Vampire Guild? Whatever objection you could have I do not care.'

'Anomen-'

'No,' he cut in firmly, 'you do not understand, I would do anything for you, Fritha. I was even prepared to stand by you had we allied with the vampires, even though it would have likely meant my expulsion from the Order.'

'Good_ Gods!_' she breathed, drawing back from the man in her astonishment, the conviction in his eyes unsettling her more than _anything_ he had said so far, 'You would have as well, wouldn't you? Well, then all the better a reason for us _not_ to be together if that is the kind of- of _madness_ it inspires! That you would even _consider_ giving up the thing you spent your whole life working towards for some- some silly infatuation! _Gods!_'

Anomen looked almost wild. '_Infatuation?_ Fritha, I am in _love _with you! The feeling, it burns within me until you are all there is and all I want is to feel you in my arms, to caress your skin and lay with you in the night.'

Fritha stared back at him, her face so hot she was sure it was glowing and not bothering to try and hide her dismay.

'Why are you_ telling _me this?' she cried shrilly, 'I told you I didn't share these feelings you have. I mean, I _was_ worried. That whole 'convincing me through actions' speech had me thinking you'd something really amazing up your sleeve. Something _irresistible_. I certainly wouldn't have been concerned if I'd known you were just going to up and tell me you wanted to sleep with me!'

'Fritha, I did not mean it like that, I-'

'I don't care how you meant it, I-!' She stopped herself with some difficultly, drawing a deep breath and giving herself a moment to calm down, well aware of how awful she had felt when she let her discomfort run away with her the last time. 'I… I am sure your regard is sincere and true in all its… _aspects_, Anomen, but I fear it changes nothing. I am going inside now. Don't stay out here too long, it is colder than those spirits will let you believe. Goodnight.'

xxx

Jaheira sighed inwardly, feeling more tired than she would have the man next to her realise as she and Valygar made their way along the first floor corridor. The evening had seemed a long one, Fritha and then Anomen leaving with little explanation of where they were going, though the others at least had sense enough to stay at the table with their guest and project some semblance of professionalism, as they had spoken more of their plans and the deeds of their company so far. Valygar had even heard of some of their works about the city, though he had not realised they were the same group. He had offered little of his own tales, but seemed content enough hearing of theirs and if he was not what Jaheira would have considered one of the group by the end of the evening, he certainly seemed more at ease in their company and that was at least something. After all, they had been his hunters but days before and men who trusted too readily often did not do so for long.

But how ever the evening had dragged, the hour had finally come when it was respectable enough to retire, Jaheira rising to bid the table goodnight and it had been clear then she had not been the only one waiting for this moment, Valygar standing an instant later to join her and she doubted the others would be far behind them.

Jaheira nodded her thanks as Valygar opened the door and stepped back to let her pass, the stairwell to the second floor and their own rooms stretching up before her in the lamplight.

'So,' the ranger began as they started their ascent, his voice holding the measured tone of a question long in the planning, 'does your leader often ignore discussions of what some would consider _strategic importance_ and go out to play with the local children?'

Jaheira frowned, knowing how the girl's behaviour must have looked to those not long in her company. 'Fritha is not quite herself at the moment.'

'I see… and the knight shunning all company in favour of the bottle?'

The druid sighed. 'Anomen is even _less_ himself.'

Valygar nodded and she thought she could detect a glimmer of a smile behind the stoicism as he turned to her, the pair paused on the landing.

'You need not explain further, it is clear enough that he and your leader have an unresolved regard between them, one that she has spurned if I read the situation correctly. She is wise to avoid such unnecessary entanglements; if her blood does not cause problems, this life surely will.'

Jaheira watched as a shadow of some past pain flickered behind his eyes though he said no more. Not that Jaheira would have presented a case against his words anyway; that life had already robbed her of many cherished companions, though, for all that, she would have chosen no other path. Valygar glanced back to her, nodding politely.

'Well, goodnight, Jaheira.'

'Goodnight.'

She waited until he had disappeared into his room before she turned to continue on to her own, the slam of the door at he foot of the stairwell behind halting her and Jaheira turned back to see Fritha tripping lightly up the steps, her ascent more hasty than carefree.

'Fritha,' she greeted, the girl starting slightly at her address, 'how was your evening?'

'It was… nice,' Fritha finally managed as she reached her, the girl halted on the step below, her cheeks glowing in the lamplight. 'I thought I should get back though -make a start on that diary.'

'Are you well? You are very pink.'

'It's very cold out.'

Jaheira raised an eyebrow. 'Indeed. I noticed Anomen was outside when I stepped out briefly to make my prayers -ah, and so did you, I see,' she confirmed as Fritha flushed even pinker, turning her face away.

'He seems very… _set_ on what he feels. Can you believe, amongst other things, he told me he wished to _lie_ with me.'

'He _did_?' Jaheira exclaimed. Not that she had ever doubted it, but she was surprised the knight had managed to put aside both the indoctrinations of his upbringing and chivalry to voice as much; he was more impassioned that she had given him credit for. 'And what did you say?'

'_No_, of course!'

'Fritha, calm down.'

'I can't,' she cried, twisting her sleeves in her distress, 'I- he just makes me feel so…'

'Uncomfortable?' Jaheira offered after a moment. Fritha swallowed and dipped her face.

'Lonely… But, yes, also _really _uncomfortable,' she added matter-of-factly, sending the druid a half-smile. 'Ah, I'm going to bed. Sleep well, Jaheira.'

'Yes. Yes, you too,' she murmured, the ache in her heart suddenly making it hard to draw breath. They had, of course, spoken since they had left Athkatla; indeed, Fritha had presented her the olive branch before they had even left its walls, but Jaheira still felt unable to the talk to the girl as she had once done. How could she stand there offering her advice on how to deal with her current troubles when the greater number of them were _her_ fault?

She sensed someone on the stairs behind her and turned to see Cernd, the man just gazing at the girl's door as she had been.

'They say that parents never stop worrying.'

Jaheira snorted, shaking her head dully. 'She is not my daughter. I would that she was, then perhaps she would at least pay attention to what I tell her from time to time.'

'I think she pays more heed to your counsel than you realise.'

'Aye, she hears what I tell her and does the opposite,' the woman exclaimed with a bark of dry laughter, though at least she felt a touch better for it. Guilty or not, she would not let the girl bear this alone any longer and though Jaheira had no idea yet as to how she could even begin to help, the knowledge that she would try was of some comfort to her. Jaheira sighed, sending the man a smile, 'Ah, this will not be resolved tonight in the hallway. Goodnight, Cernd.'

He bid her the same and Jaheira finally retreated to her room and the rest that felt long overdue.


	69. The long and winding road

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

* * *

**The long and winding road **

Anomen opened his eyes and immediately wished he had not, the curtains at the window drawn but too thin to make much difference, the room dazzling in a glary dawn light. The floorboards were cold on his bare feet though it hardly registered through the myriad of minor aches that twinged through his body as the sound of laughter and shrieks of excitement drew him to the window. It had snowed again in the night, and heavily too, the whole of Imnesvale covered in a crisp white blanket that sparkled diamond-strewn in the early sunlight. Though it appeared the scene was being appreciated on other levels too, a few of the local children tearing about the square beneath him throwing snowballs, a familiar auburn head joining them in their game.

Anomen let his forehead drop to rest against the cold glass with a groan; memories of last night suddenly clear through the haze of his mind. He was not ashamed by what he had told her -well, perhaps one or two things might not have been mentioned just yet. But Fritha's reaction had hardly been encouraging all the same and he felt now that much of it would have been better discussed when he had been sober and less inclined for impassioned outbursts which were sure to only embarrass the girl.

Downstairs the common room was devoid of either patrons or servers, the hour still too early for anyone to be in the tavern, though someone was clearly up, a fire already roaring in the grate and the room felt warm and stuffy. Anomen rubbed a hand across his hot tired eyes, crossing to throw open the door, the cold air hitting him with sharpness enough to take his breath away, the man both blessed and cursed in the same instant as he felt suddenly much more awake and _very_ much more hungover. He stepped out on to the frozen ground, the courtyard before him now empty though they were not far, the sound of laughter shrill in the air and suddenly she was before him, Fritha diving around the corner of the inn and almost straight into him, and it struck Anomen how young she looked then, without her sword and armour, her hair still gathered back in its long braid.

She was staring up at him, looking quite surprised to see him there and she had opened her mouth to speak when three children tore around the corner after her, the boy, Delon, pelting her with snow as Kaatje and another girl barrelled into her, Fritha's laughter filling the air.

'Pax! Pax! Go on now, go and play without me for a bit,' she shooed, sternly overseeing their departure as one who was reluctant to face what was behind her and when she did turn to him it was a forced air of ease. 'Morning, Anomen, you're up early.'

'Good morning, Fritha.'

She was frowning, clearly deciding how to phrase her next and Anomen suspected she had not thought she would be called upon to make it quite so soon.

'Yes, look, about last night, Anomen, ah, I think I should apologise, I more than overreacted and I'm sorry. I know I am not dealing with this very well.'

Anomen blinked; he had not been expecting that and his tired brain was still trying to formulate a reply as Fritha continued.

'So, I was thinking last night, about how we were friends and used to laugh and such, and I miss that, Anomen. So I thought -though I know it will be a bit awkward at first- but if we just both agreed to forget all of this, then I don't see any reason why we can't eventually get back to how we were.'

She was smiling up at him a hopeful warm way as though she expected him to jump at the chance and a part of him could have almost been tempted to as well, to just end all the painful awkwardness that had suddenly come between them and go back to a time when she would laugh and tease him and would not baulk at his slightest touch. But it would have been a lie, a pale reflection of the passions he felt and Anomen decided quite suddenly that if he could not have everything that he would rather have nothing at all.

'But I do not wish to forget, Fritha. Even if I could, I would not.'

She sighed, a slight terseness creeping in.

'So you haven't any plans to give up on this folly?'

He smiled mildly. 'Not currently, no.'

Fritha snorted and shook her head, turning to gaze out across the dazzling white square with a frown.

'Well, _I_ think you're making a colossal mistake -Jaheira agrees with me.'

'You _told_ her?'

'Ha! Jaheira knew before I did -perhaps even before _you_.'

'Do I hear my name being taken in vain?' came a voice behind them and the pair turned to see Jaheira stood in the open doorway of the inn.

'Ah, morning, Jaheira, what's the chant?' asked Fritha, immediately laughing at her own idiocy. The druid smiled wryly as she moved to join them.

'The _chant_ is that I have been speaking with the woodsman, Faren, and Innkeep Vincent and they say they have heard the roads are all blocked as far south as the vale of Alitor. Usually I would not worry about such since the way is always easier on foot, but the going would be much slower and with the Harpers hunting us, any time spent in the wilderness is when we are vulnerable and we need to make good time once we leave the boundaries of Imnesvale. It will be a warm day; I suspect the roads will be clear enough by highsun for us to make good progress. We need to restock for our journey back to the city too, perhaps see about getting some tents now the weather has truly turned -and I spoke to Goodwife Ewelina: our laundry is still drying, though she has the ovens on in the kitchens now so it should not be much longer.'

Fritha nodded once. 'Good, well, if we speak to Vincent about where to get some tents-'

'Fritha, guess what?' came a voice shrill with excitement, Kaatje appearing around the corner of the inn, the boy Delon at her heels, both flushed pink, snow still dusting their clothes and clumped here and there in their hair, though the pair stopped as they saw Jaheira. 'Oh, are you going now, Fritha?'

The girl shook her head with a smile. 'No, I'm not going _anywhere_ until the roads clear.'

Kaatje beamed. 'Fritha, that's wonderful! I came to tell you, my father has said I can have his old sled. He said if we're with a grown-up,' Anomen assumed here, the man had meant Fritha, 'then we can go sledging on the east hill.'

'Amber is off getting hers now and my brother has an old metal tea chest we can take the lid from too,' came Delon eagerly. Fritha glanced questioningly to Jaheira, the two children following her cue to instantly turn pleading eyes upon the woman. The druid laughed.

'Go on then,' she dismissed: an unspoken agreement that _she_ would take on the arrangements for their departure.

The effect was instantaneous, Kaatje squealing with delight as Delon punched the air with a '_Yes!_'

Fritha grinned. 'Thanks Jaheira. I'll see you later then.'

And Jaheira watched them disappear off up the street with a smile. It was nice to see Fritha behaving more, well normally for _her_ at least, the woman turning back to catch Anomen staring at the place they were last seen a tired frown.

'You look drawn, Anomen, would you like something for the headache?'

'No, thank you, my lady,' he answered dully, looking more than a touch embarrassed. Jaheira sighed, walking further into the square and gazing up the street to where Fritha and Delon were stood outside Kaatje's house, the girl likely off fetching her newly acquired sledge. Jaheira turned suddenly back to the man at her side, her decision made.

'I promised myself I would not meddle in this, so I shall say my piece and have done with it. Anomen, Fritha is a girl and you are a man.'

The knight flushed. 'I _am_ aware of the difference, my lady.'

'_No_, I do not believe you _are_. You are a _man_, Anomen, and you desire a relationship of a certain… maturity which does not marry with the requirement a _girl _would have of the pairing. You need a woman, Anomen, and Fritha…' She glanced back up the street, Kaatje now back with their group and pink with laughter, Fritha balanced on the low wooden frame as she tried to sledge standing up, the sled gliding smoothly down the street a yard or two before catching on something to send her pitching headfirst into the snow. Jaheira sighed. 'To be honest with you, at the moment, Fritha would probably be better off with some sort of pet. Just bear it in mind, Anomen, before you really upset her and lose the friendship she values so highly along with anything _else_ youmay have been hoping for.'

xxx

Valygar walked on in the silence that had held him most of the day, the sharp air in his lungs making him feel alive and well, the forest about him still dripping from the last shower. It had been early afternoon by the time they had left Imnesvale the previous day, newly purchased tents loaded upon their newly purchased steed, a hoary long-eared mule which Fritha had affectionately named 'Donkey', the knight muttering some comment about it being a pet for the girl that had made Jaheira laugh with a disproportionate mirth. As for the animal itself, it was a restive beast that would walk nowhere without someone at its halter with a watchful eye to encourage it -a duty that the two girls took up with relish.

As for that day, they had finally left the road that morning to cut through the forests on a more direct route back to the city. It was late in the afternoon now, the sun that had once been at their backs now dazzling them on those rare occasions it was not obscured by clouds. Valygar drew another deep breath, savouring the damp scent of the forest. He would have enjoyed such a day as this but a year or so ago, when travelling with his old group, taking pleasure in the simple life and the camaraderie that came from the pursuit of shared ideals.

And there she was again, behind his eyes, sallow cheeks rosy from the cold, her scarf hiding the smile that sparkled in her eyes: sweet serene Suna. She had been small, even for a half-elf. Her human descendants, exiled from the Eastern Lands for some long forgotten transgression, had travelled westwards generations ago to make a new home in Faerûn, though their community had been narrow and close-knit and she would still fall back into her native tongue and mannerisms on occasion –usually when frustrated or scolding him. Many had underestimated her in battle, and it was a mistake most made only once. She had been a good fighter and no one he knew had been a better shot with a short bow, not that it had saved her in the end. She had died, along with most of the others in that carnage in the Troll Mountains and the life he had known had gone with her.

Valygar sighed inwardly. He was not one to dwell on the past, but it was hard. Being with that group had been the first time he had felt connected with something since he had left his family over a decade ago, and he really had not realised how he had come to rely upon the feeling until it had been lost to him once more. At least _this_ group were hardly serving as a reminder of those better days, with its strange mix of strange people and its weary air that spoke of troubles too large for any of them. He still felt like an outsider even after so many days -something which more than suited him. Each of them had tried to engage him over course of their journey, but he had never been one for small talk and they soon left him to his thoughts. That was, all but their leader, of course.

Fritha had found no reason to speak with him since they had left his cabin, though he could not take it personally even if he had cared, for she had hardly spoken to anyone else either, the brief respite of the village long past now and he recognised in her the wary, restless manner of the hunted. He glanced behind him, the girl in her usual position at their rear, leading the mule and quietly singing to herself - _"__Let no man steal you thyme__"_, that song of stalwart spinsters the world over.

'She is in fine voice today.'

Valygar turned back to find Cernd had slowed his pace to walk next to him, the shorter man smiling serenely as he continued, 'though, I am hardly an authority; I must admit to only having an ear for birdsong until recently.'

'I would have thought one in her position would wish to make as little sound as possible,' Valygar observed evenly. Cernd shrugged.

'I suspect any noise she is making will be masked by our passage. We are not all as the white stork; we do not all have a fondness for silence.'

'It serves me well enough and I have much to think on. In a few days, the vow my family made five hundred years ago will finally be fulfilled and then the curse of the Corthala blood can come to an end as well.' Valygar nodded imperceptibly to himself, glad for the chance he had been given. 'I will be the last of the Corthala House once Lavok is gone, and I can then take measures to ensure this curse will die with me too. It is fitting, I think.'

'Die with you?' the druid repeated, sounding surprised, 'You mean to say you will forgo the joys of children? Though I understand your worries, such a course seems a little extreme. This curse as you would call it, may be of your blood, but your will is still your own; you are not your father's son after all.'

'Mother's,' he corrected with the faintest of smiles, 'It was my mother who had the power and the name. Oh, my father was a mage too, but he had not my mother's skills.'

Cernd frowned with a predictable confusion. 'Then how are you Corthala?'

'It is customary in the weddings amongst the noble circles for the house of the greater prominence to be the name that is kept, irrespective of whether it is a son or a daughter of that household who is to be wed. It means the greater families do not die out just because they have run out of sons -a custom especially useful in a country given over to sending their male heirs into the knighthood.'

Cernd chuckled slightly. 'And such a path did not tempt your younger self, if magic was not to be your way?'

'No,' said Valygar shortly, 'As you said, my will is my own and I will not walk a path another man has set for me.'

The druid nodded slowly, the narrow gap between their ages suddenly increased ten-fold as he sighed tiredly, 'I felt as you did once, that nothing could change my course. I left my business, even my wife, casting all aside to serve Nature. And then I found I had a son and my whole world changed in an instant.'

'A son?'

'Yes, my wife re-married after I left; the child is of my blood but he lives with his stepfather in the city. I am not permitted to see him.'

'I am sorry to hear-' Valygar stopped as something caught his eye, an unnatural shimmer to their surroundings that had no place there, the man drawing his sword as he bellowed, 'We are attacked!'

And suddenly they were every where, armed men just appearing all around them, the slight prickle to the air confirming to him that fell magics were at work. Another spell exploded above them in a blinding flash, screams and shouts mixing with the wild braying of the mule, Fritha making no attempt to hold on to the terrified creature as it bolted.

'Capture the Bhaalspawn, kill the rest,' someone roared over the din, those about him scattering, rushing out to meet the figures who were closing in, Fritha already stood over the body of an unfortunate archer who had not made the change between bow and blade quite fast enough. Valygar cast about him in the sudden chaos, eyes catching on the iridescent gleam of another spell, the elven mage who was weaving it hanging back as his companions moved to close in.

Valygar started forward, dodging the heavily armed man who was bearing down upon him, making a sweeping slash across his body that was more to distract than defeat as he raced past him, the ranger weaving through the trees, his katana already brought high. The mage abandoned his spell at the last moment, Valygar's sword sweeping down only to rebound back in a shower of sparks, the blue glow of some ethereal shield suddenly about the elf and Valygar considered he was a mage of more than average skill, though he had no time to contemplate it further. The ranger whirled to meet his persistent assailant who had just arrived behind him, Valygar quickly circling round before he could be engaged again, making sure the man's armour served them both as he manoeuvred his opponent between himself and the mage.

He had a better view of the battle there too. Anomen, Minsc and Jaheira had formed an arrow head formation about a stout tree, though it was difficult to see how they were faring in the press of bodies about them. Cernd had taken up a position before their own mage, Aerie's eyes closed as she summoned her magics, while Fritha was fighting three herself, though it all had the defensive air of something to keep her occupied. A fact she likely realised as well and she was making them work for it, one man already hanging back, paled as he clutched at his bloody thigh.

There was no more time for observation though, the warrior before him ready to press his fight, stepping forward to make a wide swing at him with the long halberd he held and their own battle commenced.

Valygar leapt back as another disembowelling swing put a stop to his attack before he had even come within reach, his opponent keeping him out of range and on his toes as swung and thrust the halberd, Valygar unable to parry the heavier weapon for fear of losing his own. The mage was readying another spell, Valygar's pressing desire to end this fight increasing with each moment, his chance finally before him as his opponent made another lunge at his abdomen, the ranger sweeping his sword up into a hanging guard, pushing the thrust aside to step past the point of his halberd and bring his own blade around in one smooth move to slice deeply into his opponent's unprotected neck. Blood arced through the air as he fell and Valygar whirled just in time to make another vain sweep at the mage as the spell released, a shimmering ball of yellow light that streaked across the battle to hit Fritha squarely in the back.

The effect was instant, Fritha dropping her blade mid-swing as she suddenly collapsed. Minsc bellowed like a wounded beast, the man breaking formation to throw himself into the battle before him with seemingly little care as to his own safety and the warrior was not alone in his anger.

'_You!_' Aerie shrieked, a flash of white light exploding from her hands to streak across the chaos, ripping through the mage's defences to knock him from his feet, the elf recovering in time to see Valygar's blade sweeping down at him and he was dead.

It had done nothing to cool the Rashemi's rage though, Minsc still in the thick of the battle, swinging his great sword with a fury that would have made anyone else clumsy, their enemies able to do little the block the sheer power of his attacks.

'Will you watch your bloody backswing!' Jaheira screeched as another furious sweep of his greatsword partially decapitated the man before him and nearly took the top of her staff with it as she and the knight fought to protect Minsc's back, though their opponents were certainly decreased in number.

Cernd and Aerie had turned their attentions to the battle too, another spell splitting the air as Valygar raced to join the fray, easily cutting down a man who had just turned to make his retreat and halting the flight of another as he engaged him. They traded few blows though, the man already tired from his previous fight and it was not long before Valygar had an opening, the man falling just moments before Minsc finished his own opponent, instantly whirling round and suddenly Valygar was face to face with the berserker, his arms covered in the wounds he had not bothered to dodge, blood pouring down his face from a neat slash across his forehead, the man panting like some wild animal before he slowly lowered his sword and turned away, walking a few paces from them as he fought to calm down.

'Fritha!' cried Jaheira, the woman instantly rushing over to where the girl was laid, Anomen already knelt at her head.

'It is fine, my lady, she is unharmed.'

'I saw the spell he cast,' came Aerie reassuringly, the elf moving to place a hand on the now kneeling woman's shoulder, 'She is just sleeping, it should wear off soon.'

The group seemed to share a look.

'Should we take her sword?' asked Cernd, eyeing the blade that was still lain in the leaf litter where it had fallen, but inches from her hand.

'She will definitely feel as though she has been captured then,' came Anomen quietly, though he moved it another foot from her hand all the same. There was a pause, the group slowly dispersing about them, Aerie moving to tend Minsc's many wounds as Cernd made a search of the bodies, Valygar moving off to retrieve their bolted mule, the creature easy enough to track, its path littered with fallen equipment. Jaheira and Anomen remained knelt by Fritha, the girl laid out before them, her breathing so shallow she could have been dead and Jaheira found herself looking anywhere but at her.

'Were they Harpers? asked Aerie quietly as she bandaged Minsc's arm.

Jaheira shook her head. 'No, I do not believe so -well, not any I recognised, if they are.'

'The bounty has increased,' said Cernd, straightening from where he had been searching a body, a square of parchment crumpled in his hand 'A thousand gold for each of you now.'

Jaheira just sighed deeply and scrubbed a hand over her face, whipping her attention back to the body beneath her as a deep shuddering gasp was drawn and Fritha was suddenly awake and already struggling to escape them, Anomen and Jaheira holding her still as they both tried to sooth her.

'Fritha, it's all right, you are safe.'

'Fritha, please, you will hurt yourself.'

She stopped her thrashing just as suddenly as she had begun, the girl slumping back, letting her head drop back to the forest floor and covering her face with her sleeve as she began to cry.

xxx

Fritha held her skirts up with a casual hand as she jigged through a neat run of steps, the wooden boards of the temporary dance floor bouncing under the feet of the many couples, the stalls that edged the floor a brightly coloured blur, the canopies shining jewel-like in the glow of the lanterns. Fritha let her concentration drift from the dance itself to steal a glance at her partner, a tall youth of tanned skin and more than a few freckles brought out by the long summer's farm work, his short sandy hair bobbing as he moved next to her. She had not danced with him before and she felt a bit shy, especially when he flashed that roguish smile at her, blue eyes sparkling. She smiled in reply, taking his warm hand as he turned her under his arm.

'Fritha, are you listening?'

Fritha stopped, her partner looking down on her, frowning slightly in his confusion as the other couples whirled about them, when she blinked and it was all gone, replaced by a cold wet forest and six familiar faces all staring at _her_. She laughed, slightly embarrassed.

'Sorry, I was miles away.'

Jaheira frowned. 'I _said_ we need to cover more ground today if we are to reach to the city by tomorrow -are you fine to continue walking?'

'Oh, yes, no problem. Lead on, my captain!'

Jaheira just shook her head and turned to continue their path, the rest following her and an instant later Fritha was back on that twilit dance floor though it was too late now. The boy had found himself another partner and she spent a short while stood on the sidelines, watching him twirl some pretty blonde thing about the floor. But she had not long to feel aggrieved, the girl noticing Cernd was suddenly at her side -though, she reflected, he may well have been there a while.

'Hello,' she greeted cheerily, the man returning her smile though she could see the wary cast to his eyes.

_Goodness, there really is no pleasing some people; they worry when you are sad, they worry when you are happy…_

'What do you want?' Fritha asked, possibly more bluntly than she had intended in an effort to ignore the chatter behind her eyes. 'I mean, what brings you here… er, to the back of the group, I mean.'

Cernd made _very_ sure his serene smile did not waver as she stumbled over her words. It seemed their last run in with the bounty hunters had affected Fritha more than all the others combined. To say she was better, would not have been right, though she was certainly more cheerful, the girl chattering and laughing away to herself, that was, when she was not lost to some daydream. Cernd knew Jaheira was worried, though the woman was feeling too guilty to press the girl into talking about it, and he had decided he would make the attempt, the man still trying to think of an indirect way to come round to the subject.

'What's wrong, Cernd? Cat got your tongue?' Fritha teased almost flirtatiously. Cernd swallowed; direct it was then.

'Jaheira seemed to startle you before,' he began, his voice low, the man very aware of Aerie just ahead of them leading their reluctant mule, 'how many miles away were you this time?'

'Ooo, about hundred, give or take a league,' Fritha laughed, smiling kindly as she elaborated, 'I was just at the Beregost Fair. They hold one at the end of the summer, a celebration of the harvest and the season. Winthrope used to go and sell the scrumpy and mead he would brew and we couldn't hear _enough_ about the place on his return. There are stalls and competitions and a party in the evening. Imoen and I were never allowed to go though, so we used to stroll around the keep on the day and pretend we were there. When Jaheira called to me, I was dancing –with a _boy_,' she added with a laugh.

'I see…' Cernd replied slowly and Fritha gave an impatient sigh

'Oh, so I am spending all my days wool-gathering! Where is the harm in letting my mind wander, even if my body is still trapped here under two cloaks?'

The druid frowned slightly. 'Well, some would say that a consistent desire to escape reality could be considered unhealthy.'

'Well, then _they_ can spend four days tramping through this freezing bloody forest!'

Cernd laughed in spite of himself at her indignation, Fritha seemingly calmed by it for she laughed too, her eyes lingering on the thin woollen cloak he had wrapped about his own shoulders.

'Why is it _you_ never seem cold, Cernd?'

He blinked a moment, her question catching him out, though he saw no harm in answering her.

'Well, see how you hold yourself, so hunched and rigid. The way tense you against the cold just makes it worse. You need to relax your muscles and allow the blood to flow more freely.'

'So you have to embrace it?' she considered aloud, nodding absently to herself '…Yes, that would make sense… Right then!'

And suddenly she was swinging her cloak from her shoulders, gathering her hair from her collar and shaking it out as she threw her arms wide and straightened to draw a few deep cold lungfuls.

'Fritha, _what_ are you doing?' Jaheira demanded, glancing back only to stop as she noticed them, the group coming to a halt about her.

'Practising. Cernd says if you relax, then you're warmer for it.'

'And how is it?' asked Aerie, hunched under two cloaks herself and looking as though she would try _anything_ in the gelid conditions.

'Cold!' Fritha admitted with a misty laugh. Jaheira sent Cernd a stern look, presumably for _encouraging_ her.

'Well, put your cloak back on before you catch your death.'

The girl laughed and did as she was asked, Cernd leaving her side to join Jaheira at the head of the group and attempt to sooth her displeasure.

'Oh come- come on, you stubborn beast!' cursed Aerie as she tried to get their mule moving again after this brief halt, the girl finally giving up, glancing ahead to call to the ranger. 'I'm sorry to ask, Valygar, but could you walk behind him please? He seems to have a fear of you ever since you dragged him back to us the other day.'

Valygar said nothing, but obliged the elf all the same, joining Fritha at the rear of the group, the mule suddenly eager to starting moving again. Fritha glanced up to him, smiling slightly.

'Donkey doesn't like you, eh?'

'And he is not the only one, I assume,' the ranger answered coolly, adding at her puzzled expression, 'Everyone of this company has taken pains to invite me in and make me feel welcome over the last few days -with the only exception being you.'

Fritha merely shrugged. What a strange man, who shunned company but then complained when he did not receive it, and it put her in mind of Phlydia's capricious cats.

_Perhaps you should start calling him Falex? Oh, no, not that one; he was the one that died._

'I did not see the point. _They_ all have and you aren't any more at ease for it. And as for my not liking you, that is not true. But is difficult, you understand. I searched for you for a long time, a lot was resting on it. I have never exalted in the end of another, however they had wronged me, but there was a salvation in your death. And then I meet you and see that you must live; it was a hard thing to bear.'

Valygar was frowning, but he nodded all the same.

'Yes, the others spoke of your friend, Imoen, and how her freedom was promised in exchange for mine. When they told me, I was even more surprised you agreed to switch your alliances…'

Fritha could hear the distrust in his voice and though she understood it, it angered her all the same; all she had sacrificed for a man who still believed she was going to betray him.

'Well,' she began conversationally, 'once we discovered you were innocent, I knew the others would be _wholly_ against killing you and, as you can see, I _am _rather outnumbered. I thought it would be _so_ much easier to get you back to city under these pretences and then just shop you in to Tolgerias once we arrive. I mean,' she gestured casually to those walking before her, 'that lot won't be best pleased, but I'll have Imoen back by then, so it's not like I'll need _them_ anymore.'

Valygar shook his head, bitterly amused.

'How I will laugh if that turns out the be the case.'

Fritha gave a bark of laughter. 'Ha! Perhaps it is _I_ who will be laughing -for all we know, _you_ could be the one lying to _us, _all this talk of being used by the wizards and avenging your family just some sob-story to get us to change sides. You could be as bad as the Cowled Wizards -worse even! Getting Lavok back to the Prime to kill him and steal the sphere for yourself, that you may wreak havoc on the planes for _a thousand years_.'

'I want _nothing_ of that sphere!' Valygar snapped.

'Yes,' agreed Fritha pointedly, 'and we have _your_ word for that, just as you have ours that we will help you. And so our alliance boils down to the old adage: the enemy of my enemy…' She glanced to him, smiling tightly 'I hope you sleep more soundly knowing that, even after all the uncertainty between us, my dislike of Tolgerias can be counted on.'

'I do,' he answered, just as insincerely.

_Liar!_

'Is something funny?' Valygar asked as she snorted into her hand.

'No, nothing,' she sighed, feel both happy and sad, 'I suppose we shall just have to follow the sages this time -it is as they say, trust is for the brave,' she sent him a broad grin, 'and the dead.'

xxx

It had taken a while, once they had finally decided to stop, to find somewhere they could pitch the tents, the group at last reaching a small glade as the twilight began to close in about them. Jaheira was stood with Minsc on the edge of the camp, the first pair to finish, the druid taking moment to watch as the others pitched their own tents, Anomen and Cernd tying off guy ropes, while Valygar was at a similar stage with his, the simple shelter of canvas and wood looking muddy and well-used compared to their relatively new ones. Aerie and Fritha were a lot further behind in their progress though. Neither of the girls had ever pitched a tent before -something Jaheira did not know when she had agreed the two should share one- and the fact neither had quite got the hang of it still after three days seemed to be a source of endless amusement for them, the pair giggling away to themselves as they worked out which pole was which, the mule just behind them and looking glad its burden was off it for the day, the creature laid down and enjoying some oats, its halter tied to a nearby tree.

'You would go hunting this evening, Minsc?' asked Cernd with a cursory glance to the darkening sky as he tied off another rope. Next to her, Minsc nodded.

'Yes, Boo believes we should try, at least. You would accompany us, good Cernd?'

'If I may. And what of our other woodsman; will you join us, Valygar?'

The taciturn ranger glanced up from where he was hammering in tent pegs with a frown. 'I will come hunting though I feel we will have a better chance of bringing something back if we split up,' he said shortly, instantly returning his attention to his tent.

Cernd sent her and the Rashemi a loose shrug and went back to his own work. Minsc shook his head gravely, his voice low.

'This Valygar is what we would call a _gnarisvet_; a distrustful-man. Though all are warriors, he does not see us as his brothers -though Boo tells me such things can take time.'

Jaheira smiled kindly. 'Boo is right. He was our prey for a long while and we worked for his enemy; such suspicions run deep. As do other things…' she muttered to herself as her eyes fell once more on Fritha, the girl singing softly to herself as she twirled a tent peg between her fingers. Minsc seemed to need no further explanation of her worries, frowning as he agreed, 'She is both better and worse, yes? Though she will not talk to me.'

'No, nor I. Still as the main contributor to her woes, I am hardly the ideal confidant.'

Minsc shook his head. 'Ah, the fault in this is not yours, good Jaheira; who would not put faith in their brothers-in-arms?'

Jaheira had no answer for him though, merely replying, 'Cernd believes she is better than she seems, we must put our faith in him.'

Minsc nodded, turning back to the scene before them. Cernd and Anomen had just about finished their tent, the druid putting in the last of the pegs, Anomen dusting off his hands as he crossed the small clearing to ask if the girls needed any help, Aerie gladly relinquishing to him the guy rope she was holding. Fritha had hardly acknowledged his arrival, though she did move deliberately to begin work on the other side of the tent, the girl crouched as she finally began to hammer the pegs into the hard ground.

'Ah, Fritha, for one usually so subtle you can certainly make your point when you wish it,' sighed Jaheira, watching Anomen watch the girl with a frown, the druid glancing to the man at her side to add absently, 'She would have likely confided in him before, now she can barely look at the man.'

'They have argued again?'

Jaheira snorted with weary amusement. 'Well, they have certainly had a disagreement of sorts, namely on the bounds of their friendship and the knight's hopes it could become something more.'

She expected the ranger to be no less than astounded, but Minsc merely frowned, dark eyes taking in the pair with a _gravely_ critical look.

'Anomen and young Fritha? Well, he likes to fight evil, which is good. But he also likes to fight Fritha, which is not good. Boo does not approve the match.'

Jaheira almost laughed. 'Does not _approve_? Well, I hardly think Anomen intends to ask for our permission, Minsc.'

'And why should he not? Young Fritha is our leader, yes, but she is our friend too and we must protect her; Dynaheir would have done no less!'

Jaheira shrugged. He was likely right and she wondered whether she hadn't been neglecting her duty to the girl.

'And what does _Boo_ think we should do then?'

A pause whilst the hamster was consulted and-

'I will speak with him now!' Minsc announced decisively, and before Jaheira could even _advise_ discretion, he was marching across the camp to where the knight was crouched, towering above him and looking formidable. 'Anomen, it has come to our notice that you no longer see Fritha as the glorious warrior who leads us to our victories, but as someone to keep your hearth and raise your young. However, Boo does not agree this match and _I_ agree with him!'

Anomen did not even make a sound, just stared up at the man as though he could not quite believe what he had just heard. Fritha, though, was not so afflicted.

'Minsc!' she shrieked, springing up to take his arm and attempt to lead him somewhere more private. 'This is neither the time nor the place -if such could _ever _exist!'

'No, young Fritha, the words must be said!'

'Not here, not now; _please_ Minsc, I've no intention of raising hearths or keeping young, or anything else you can accuse me of.'

The ranger would not be shifted, though he did finally pull his stern gaze from the man at his feet, gently patting the hand that was still clasped vainly at his forearm, Fritha instantly releasing him, the girl a mottled scarlet under their assembled stares.

'The thoughts of Boo have been made clear, no more will be spoken… for now. Come, Cernd, we go.'

And with that Minsc turned on his heel and was gone, marching off through the trees, Cernd given only time enough to tie of the guy rope he was holding and take up his staff, the druid having to jog slightly to catch up. Jaheira slowly surveyed the casualties they'd left: Fritha and Anomen both red-faced, Aerie staring between the two as though she had never seen them before. In fact, Valygar was the only one among them who seemed unaffected as he rooted nonchalantly through his pack, though whether he was too polite to make a fuss or he merely found it all beneath his interest, Jaheira could not tell. The druid sighed.

'I should go and fetch some water.'

Fritha had the cooking pot in her hand and was striding from the clearing before Jaheira had even drawn the breath to invite her.

'I'll help.'

But by the time Jaheira had untied the flasks from Minsc's pack and made to follow her, Fritha had already reached the river, crouched on a stone at the edge of the rushing waters as she let the pot fill, the girl straightening to heave it on to the bank next to her and finally noticing her to demand, 'Did you know Minsc was going to do that?'

Jaheira nodded, trying very hard not to smile. 'Yes, though in my defence it was only an _instant_ before the rest of you learnt of it.'

Fortunately, Fritha seemed inclined to see the funny side as well, a reluctant smile twisting her face as she took one of the empty flasks from her.

'Bloody Hells, Jaheira, you could have at least _tried_ to stop him!'

'Had I been given any opportunity, be assured, I would have -but it was amusing, was it not?' she added, the laughter she had been suppressing for so long finally getting the better of her, 'I don't think I will forget the boy's expression for as long as I live.'

Fritha was laughing behind her hand even as she shot her a reproachful look. 'Oh, don't. Poor Anomen; all this is bad enough without you lot tormenting him.'

Jaheira watched her set the now filled flask at her feet, the girl's smile lingering with her own.

'You like him, don't you?'

Fritha snorted, stooping to fill the other flask. 'Don't be silly, I'm Bhaalspawn with a thousand gold pieces on her head.'

'That did not answer my question.'

The girl sighed, her gaze focused on her wet hands, pink from the cold as she screwed the flask cap closed.

'I… I do not like him that way, no, _and_, more importantly, I have no intention of allowing myself to either.' She glanced up to her, eyes grave behind the smile, 'that path just leads to a lot of misery for us both.'

'Some people would say you are neither of you particularly happy now…' offered Jaheira with a deliberate nonchalance.

'Well, _some_ _people_ can just keep their noses out of it, can't they? Here, help me up.'

Jaheira obliged her, extending a hand and helping the girl back onto the bank, and after a moment, they set off, moving quickly through the rapidly darkening forest. They had swapped their loads at Fritha's insistence, Jaheira now carrying the lighter cooking pot while Fritha had slung the two flasks each at the end of a long stick she had found, the girl balancing it over one shoulder at the pivot and holding it steady as they walked, her werelight hovering just above it and bathing her in an eerie pale light. They had almost reached the camp when they caught a glimpse of a familiar dark blue cloak in the trees ahead of them. It was Anomen, the man walking eastwards out into the forest, prayer-book in hand. Something about Fritha's face seemed to darken, the girl suddenly looking serious and slightly sad as she turned to her.

'Are you okay to go on alone? I really should apologise for what happened earlier.'

Jaheira smiled and raised an eyebrow and Fritha flushed, some of her previous levity creeping back in as she snapped 'Oh shut up!' and without waiting for an answer she had left her side, the flasks she bore swing wildly with her quickened pace as she made to catch him. 'Anomen?'

Jaheira sighed and carried on her way.

**...**

'Anomen?' called a familiar voice behind him and Anomen turned to see Fritha weaving through the trees after him, their water balanced over her shoulder like a milkmaid. She seemed nervous and he realised it was the first time she had been properly alone with him since that night in Imnesvale, her words coming out in a jumble as she made to explain herself.

'Anomen, I'm sorry about before, in front of everyone like that, and I'm sure Minsc didn't mean it the way it came across. But I'll speak with him and-'

'It is quite all right, Fritha,' he cut in kindly, a part of him glad she was so flustered; though could not understand why, he felt as though it was good sign his presence at least had some affect on her. 'I do not care who knows of my regard -though I must confess, at the time I was worried Minsc was going to invoke the famed ire of the Rashemi berserkers and punch me.'

Fritha laughed in spite of herself. The twilight had drained the colour from the world, her pale moon of a face gleaming white in the gloom, dark eyes now black and reflecting in the glow of her werelight, sparkling with a thousand points of white. He smiled moving a hand to hover at her cheek, so close he could feel its warmth.

'Your eyes are like stars-'

'Oh, Anomen, no, they _aren't_,' she sighed tersely, batting him away, 'they're not remotely star-like. They're brown for a start.'

Anomen dropped his hand, anger flaring with the sharp pain of another dismissal.

'Fine, as you would have it; forgive my clumsy words.'

Fritha sighed again and more deeply this time. 'Anomen… I am sorry. I know you are only trying to be nice, but we've spoken about this before and you continually obtruding your feelings upon me, it makes me feel uncomfortable.'

'Yes, we have spoken of it,' Anomen agreed, trying to keep his voice calm in the rising tide of passions within him, 'but as I recall, I have yet to hear an actual reason as to _why_ you are refusing my courtship.'

'Well, you rather had it last time,' she exclaimed bluntly, 'when you said you didn't care about the Harpers or the vampires or whatever else I can manage to make enemies of between now and when we rescue Imoen. I know many say that when times grow dark then those are the times when one needs to hold those cared for even closer, but I am not as sure. I think the closer people get to me, the greater the likelihood that they will merely die trying to shield me from what will come.'

'So, that is it?' he demanded, 'You are just to decide for me then and _I_ do not even get a say? I can make my own decision in this, Fritha.'

But Fritha merely laughed.

'Not likely! You _clearly_ can't be trusted at the moment. All that madness of you risking getting kicked out the Order.' She shook her head sternly. 'No, no, I think it best that the least foolish of us gets to set our course here, which, disturbingly enough, at the moment seems to be _me_.' She sighed deeply. 'I'm sorry, Anomen -ah, I'm sure you're getting tired of hearing me say that, but I really am. I thank you for your regard, it was dearly borne, truly, it was. But I can neither return nor accept it and I would ask that it cease.' She patted his arm gently, 'Well, I'll leave you to your prayers.'

'This is not over, Fritha,' he called after her defiantly. But she just carried on walking and he could not tell if she had heeded him or not.

xxx

Aerie pulled her cloak about her more tightly and shifted closer to the fire, glad she had volunteered for the first watch; the night would only get colder. Minsc and Cernd, and then Valygar had arrived back just as the darkness was drawing in, neither with anything to show for their hunt and dinner had been a thin stew of dried meat and pulses eaten in an uncomfortable silence. More awkward though had been that period when all others had quit the camp, she and Anomen left to finish putting up her tent in silence, before man had offered her a remarkably mild smile and asked if she would be all right if he went a little way from the clearing to make his prayers. That she had never guessed that the knight's feelings ran so deep proved to Aerie how caught up she had been in her own affairs, for it all seemed so obvious to the elf now; the way he had been willing to risk so much for the girl, his concerns never far from her well-being. Ha, what would have her dear Haer'Dalis have said had he known?

A rustle in the trees behind her, Aerie turning sharply at the sound though her panic was brief. It was just Fritha returning from her walk of perimeter, the girl sending her a smile as she took a seat on the ground next to her.

'How was your walk?' the elf asked softly.

Fritha shrugged. 'All quiet. What about here? Valygar has finally retired, I see. If he was still sat there when I came back, I was going to tell him he could just take my watch for me and _I'd_ go to bed.'

'Fritha,' Aerie scolded with a quiet laugh, nodding in the direction of his tent to indicate he may well still be awake now, the elf dropping her voice even lower as she continued, 'I think his reluctance stemmed from the _nefarious witch_ being on watch.'

'Ooo, let's not leave the _vile Bhaalspawn_ out of the equation.'

They shared a moment of whispery laughter, quiet and conspiratorial, Aerie feeling a little better about the ranger's prejudice as she sighed, 'He doesn't like me.'

Fritha looked wholly unconcerned. 'Yes, well, I don't think he likes me much either. Ha, who is he that we need his approval? We'll be back in the city tomorrow and we can summon this sphere, kill this mage and hopefully find a shed-load of treasure into the bargain.'

Aerie laughed again, wondering if this air of levity could be the moment she had been waiting on. Truth be told, Aerie had be _dying_ to ask the girl about Anomen since Minsc had rather forcibly announced it over the camp, though this was the first time they had been in any position for the elf to pursue her curiosity.

'So,' she began, feeling Fritha would likely appreciate her refusal to disguise her prying, 'Anomen has feelings for you…'

'Yes, I know -mad, isn't it?' Fritha laughed merrily, 'I must admit it quite threw me at first, but I suppose I am slowly coming to terms with it.'

Aerie frowned at her choice of words but asked only, 'When did he tell you?'

'Er, that day it snowed, the one before we found Valygar.' Fritha shook her head looking for a moment regretful, 'Poor man; I am afraid I did not receive the news very well.'

Aerie sighed inwardly, the girl merely confirming her suspicions. Poor Anomen indeed. How hard to love one who did not return your regard, and Aerie felt particularly sorry for the man since she had come to realise the depth of feelings, slowly burgeoning all that time. And perhaps it was something Fritha needed to realise as well…

'I understand it may seem like this is hardly the time to try and begin such relations, and perhaps you feel that with your heritage, that you and he would be ill-suited, but he truly does care for you, Fritha. I don't know if I should tell you this, but Anomen was even willing to ally with the vamp-'

'He's already told me, Aerie,' Fritha interrupted with a dull sigh, 'In fact, that little chestnut merely helped me to my decision.'

But, why?' cried Aerie, genuinely bewildered, 'Such devotion-'

'I don't want that sort of devotion,' Fritha cut in, waving it away with a hand and a frown, 'people ruining their lives for me. Gods, it's bad enough they insist on dying. No,' she sighed, leaning forward to add some more wood to the fire, 'I'm just going to keep my head down until this whole thing blows over. Don't look at me like that, it's all for the best.'

'I doubt Anomen would agree with you,' Aerie murmured solemnly.

'No, but I have had _lengthy_ discussion with myself about it and have come to the conclusion that _I_ agree with me, which means at least half of us do.'

Aerie frowned, not sure whether she found Fritha's blithe admissions of her recent odd behaviour more or less disturbing, a worry which had been pressing on her for some time now finally finding its voice.

'Fritha, the way you talk to yourself, the voice that answers, you- you don't think that- that it could be _Bhaal_ do you?'

Fritha laughed so much she had to hide her face in her cloak for fear of waking the others.

'Ah, sorry, Aerie,' she sighed at last, 'I just found that really funny for some reason. And no, I don't think it's Bhaal, not unless He has a greater than we had ever anticipated interest in how dirty my nails are, or what we're having for dinner. No, the voice is just me; it's just the person you ask when you cannot voice the question.'

'I wouldn't know,' Aerie countered gravely, 'I ask my god.'

'Really? And does He answer in a witty yet warm manner?' Fritha retorted, sighing as she hastened to add, 'Sorry, that sounded really derisive.'

Aerie shook her head. 'No, I was being judgmental. We must all do what is best for ourselves, I just have worries, and I know the others share them, that you are not yourself at the moment.'

Fritha laughed tiredly. 'But that is the real joke isn't it, because I _am_ myself at the moment. Think of it this way, is my behaviour so unusual? Were we not here, were everything all right then you'd all be saying _'Oh, Fritha's gone all giddy, how nice'_.'

'But Fritha, everything is _not_ all right!'

'Well, no,' the girl admitted, still in that frustratingly calm air, 'but it's all relative, Aerie. Yesterday was a bit of an epiphany for me, it was like I woke up and I was suddenly looking at the world with new eyes -well, after all the tears and snot and everything. In those few moments as I came round and I thought I had been captured, that I would open my eyes on plain wooden lid of the box that would hold me for the rest of my life and then to see sky… it gave me a new appreciation of things. I will not lie to myself, Aerie, our situation is far from good, but I am alive and I am free and in those moments when I am _not_ being attacked, well, I suppose it's started to make me kind of happy. So I'll laugh and chatter with you all, and myself too when I feel it is something that cannot be shared, and I will let my mind wander as it pleases and I will go on, because it's the only way I can see how to right now and I am not ready to give up just yet.'

Aerie nodded, nothing really she could add to that, the girl rising to take up her staff. 'Well, I should make my walk now.'

Fritha sent her a smile. 'Yes, take care.

And with that, they parted.


	70. Amateur dramatics

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Amateur dramatics**

Jaheira gazed down at the sloping plains of Athkatla, the city nestled against the coast, as grey and dull as the storm clouds gathering above it, the sky so dark it was difficult to believe it was the middle of the afternoon. They had come to a halt on the edge of the forest, still an hour or so's walk away from the city itself, but Valygar was wary of entering Athkatla and it had been decided that he and Jaheira would wait outside the city and approach at nightfall, sneaking inside the walls to meet the others and go straight to summoning the sphere, Fritha tasked with the rather fitting charge of relaying an appropriate lie to the Cowled Wizards.

'Right, Valygar,' the girl began, clapping her hands together enthusiastically, 'you're still on the run so you're staying here and, Jaheira, you've been killed by Valygar so you can stay here to keep him company.'

'Though I would have though it impossible, she is actually getting odder,' muttered the ranger at her shoulder, Jaheira sending him what she hoped was a disapproving glare as she considered the same herself.

'The rest of you,' continued Fritha turning back to the others, seemingly oblivious, 'the Cowled Wizards likely have eyes everywhere so we will need to project this feeling of failure and loss as soon as we enter the city walls, and on that note, is everyone ready with their sad thought? I'm happy to help you if you can't think of one by yourself.'

Around her, the group seemed to pause as one, sharing a moment of reflection and it was as though the dark clouds above them had suddenly deepen. Anomen glanced to Fritha and turned abruptly away, Aerie dipping her face to play with the fraying silk embroidery at her cuff while Minsc muttered something to Boo, Cernd turning a bleak look on the city they were about to enter.

'Right,' said Fritha, with much less of her previous buoyancy as she turned back to Jaheira with a tired smile, 'we will see you both later then.'

The rain broke within moments of them parting. Just light at first, it was soon a downpour, the clouds opening to unleash the torrent they had been threatening all day and they spent that last hour's walk tramping across the muddy plains, the weather at least helping them project the required air of misery as they trudged, hunched under their cloaks, through the gates. The two watchmen stationed there had waved them through with barely a glance, no desire to leave the shelter of the narrow guardhut, Fritha bringing their small group to a halt at the corner of the first street.

Anomen swept the wet hair from his forehead with a cold hand, the street about them empty and hazy with the rain. The water was pelting against the cobbles to send up clouds of spray, the ground beneath their feet already more puddles than pavestone and Anomen did not like to contemplate what state the slums would be in.

'Gods, I don't envy those two, camping out in this,' Fritha muttered to no one in particular as she gazed up at the sky, dropping her attention back to those about her, 'Right, I'll see you lot later.'

'You are not returning to the inn first?' asked Cernd, the mule already tugging impatiently at the halter in his hand.

'No, I had better go and speak with Tolgerias straight away, let him know what's what, as it were.'

'Should you go alone?' asked Aerie, but Fritha waved her offer of an escort away before she had even ventured it.

'It will be fine. No one would dare attack me here and it is better I go on my own, I'll need to present things in the… right way,' she finished tactfully. Or lying through her teeth at it was also known, considered Anomen as he watched her marched off, lost to the rain-veiled street after only a few yards.

The Coronet was crowded, the air humid as the many people within attempted to dry themselves around the four large fireplaces. The group had secured a berth in a local stable for their mule, going to see Bernard about their own accommodations and taking the time to wash and change into something dry before the three men returned to the tavern once again, Aerie staying in her room to catch up on some sleep. They managed to get one of their usual tables next to the rain-patterned glass of the windows, the maid finally arriving with a pitcher of warmed mead which was more than worth the wait. Anomen had taken a seat with a good view of the door, glancing up every time he heard it open and earning himself a scowl from Minsc each time he did so, and he was sat there for just long enough to begin worrying when the door creaked open once more and a blue cloak-wrapped bundle he recognised as Fritha stepped over the threshold.

'Hello again,' she greeted breathlessly, throwing back her hood and shaking out her hair as she reached them, her face a contrast of white and pink from the cold, damp curls plastered to her neck and forehead.

'How went your meeting, young Fritha?' rumbled Minsc.

'Oh, very well, I believe,' she answered, gingerly removing her sodden cloak to hang it over the back of the nearest chair and nearly upsetting it with the weight of wet wool. 'It's always hard to tell, but he seemed eager enough, especially when I told him Valygar had killed Jaheira and how his capture was a personal quest for me now.'

'And Tolgerias believed you?' came Anomen, finding it difficult to marry the girl's words with the mild way she had spoken them.

'Oh yes, no trouble. I was the epitome of the wrathful bereaved; still lost and vulnerable in grief, and naïve enough to believe with a burning passion that vengeance would somehow make me feel better. I even managed to breakdown in tears at one point and had to take a moment to heroically compose myself. You should have seen Tolgerias's face; no man could ever feign such ill-disguised dismay as he made clumsy attempts to comfort the young woman crying on other side of his desk. The arrogant _snake_,' she added rather more bitterly, 'the more I speak with him, the less I think he had any intention of returning Imoen to me, or even the power to do so.'

Minsc frowned and nodded in stern agreement. 'Well, then Boo says, all the better we agreed to help good Valygar. You should sit, young Fritha, and take ale with us.'

'Oh, not for me thanks, Minsc,' she smiled, 'I'm going up to my room for a very deep bath with an even _deeper_ cup of wine and you will not see me until the moon is risen.'

Across the tavern, the door banged open again and Anomen's heart groaned as the short figure threw back his rain soaked hood and he recognised Meck.

'Lady Patron?'

'Or, alternatively…' muttered Cernd. Fritha said nothing, just closed her eyes and drew a long deep breath, waiting until the child had reached her side before turning to greet gently, 'Hello Meck.'

The boy grinned. 'Fair met to you, m'lady, it's been a while 'a'n't it?'

'How did you know Fritha had arrived back?' asked the druid with a frown, Meck squaring up to it boldly.

'I got me contacts. A couple o' kids I used to know live over the street. I told 'em to come fetch me when you arrived back, m'lady. 'iggold's been going spare these last few days, problems with the script or some such like.'

'Surely it can wait until tomorrow, Fritha?' Anomen countered, knowing the girl would insist upon going, but feeling his objection should be made all the same. Fritha smiled tiredly and predictably shook her head.

'It likely could, but I wouldn't wish a fretting Higgold on anyone.'

'Well, I could attend with you, if you would like.'

'No, no, Anomen, no need for us both to get wet.'

'Well, then take my cloak, at least,' he pressed, making to hand her the bundle of wool that had been steaming by the nearby fireplace, but the girl took a step back dropping her arms to her sides.

'Ah no, it's fine Anomen, I'm already wet, it wouldn't make any difference.'

Meck was sending them a curious look, something Fritha seemed to want to put a stop to before the child could draw any conclusions of his own, the girl swinging her sodden cloak back about her with a barely concealed shiver of disgust.

'Come on, Meck, let's see what he wants.'

A brief 'farewell' and the pair were gone.

xxx

'Right!' Fritha snapped, the rehearsal which had been taking place on the stage before her suddenly frozen. Higgold was stood in the auditorium below, a copy of the script open in his hand, the man whirling to face her as she stalked down centre aisle, rain pelted and frowning and Fritha considered she probably looked quite fearsome, the brisk walk through the city with Meck only giving time for her annoyance at been called out again time to mature. 'I have only just set foot back in Athkatla, but it seems I cannot have even one_ day _within the city walls without some _crisis_ requiring my presence here, so _what _is it now?'

Higgold hesitated, wringing his hands nervously and she could see he, too, was now wondering if this was not something that could have waited till the morning.

'I, ah, yes, greetings, my Lady Patron. Well, do you recall, my lady, giving Zeran permission to re-write the script?'

If looks could kill, poor Higgold would have been instantly disembowelled.

'Yes, yes, of course, you do,' he continued hastily, 'well, there have been complaints. Ah, it is probably best if I bring forth those concerned.'

He called them forward, Iltheia already on the stage, Jenna and the sullen figure of Zeran marching in from the wings, the latter clearly not about to let these derisions on his artistry pass uncontested.

'Lady Patron,' Zeran nodded respectfully before launching into his tirade at the director, 'You cannot deny the play is better, Higgold!'

'No one does,' cried Jenna, before the man had even a chance to reply, 'but it changes every day!'

'The rest of the lines no longer fit with the tone of the piece,' added Iltheia critically. Zeran sent her a quelling glare.

'I have already _said_ I would look over those as well, if you wish.'

'I can't re-learn all my lines!' cried Davith, looking stricken.

'_You_ would be no worse off; you don't know them now,' said Iltheia scathingly. The lad flushed scarlet though Higgold ignored their bickering, his attention still on Zeran.

'We haven't time for you to go fiddling about with the other lines, man! By Milil, our opening night is just under a fortnight away! You see our problem, my lady,' Higgold continued more calmly as he turned back to Fritha, 'without a set script to work from, rehearsals are a complete shambles.'

Fritha sighed, sending a stern look to the man on the stage above her. 'What happened to me not regretting this, Zeran? And, Higgold, why on _Toril_ do you need _me_ here? You are the director; well, _direct_! Just make a final decision on the script and stick to it!'

Higgold pursed his lips slightly, glancing up to the heavens with sniff as he answered tartly, 'Well, my lady, _I _would have, but since _you_ were the one to allow Zeran to change the script in the first place…'

'Give me that!' Fritha snapped, snatching the manuscript from his hand, Meck stood behind her and shaking with silent laughter at the scolding his boss was getting. 'I will rewrite this tonight _myself_, and that will be the draft that is used. And that will be it!' she continued, striking the papers against her hand with every point as she glared about at them all. 'There will be no invasions of fanatics, Turmian or otherwise; no evil spirits waltzing about the place; no musicians buggering off with all copies of the score! No upstaging; no improvising; _no more!_ The next time I see Meck it will be to invite me to view the final dress rehearsal! Goodnight!'

And with that, she turned and swept out, Higgold's affronted tones drifting after her.

'_Well!_ I don't think there was any need for those _histrionics!_'

xxx

'The rain is easing,' rumbled Minsc, taking another long draft of mead as he turned back from the windows. Cernd nodded absently.

'I wonder how Jaheira and Valygar are fairing.'

'Boo says, though he may not trust us, Valygar is worthy of our trust; all will be well.'

Anomen let their voices drift over him, his mind occupied with troubles of his own. He should not have let Fritha go to the theatre alone, for though she left with Meck, he knew she would not make the boy escort her back. She was placing too much confidence in the city walls and the reluctance of the Harpers to disturb the peace within them. The Harpers may not to attack them there but Anomen doubted any bounty hunters would be concerned for the same and with a thousand gold pieces resting upon her now, Fritha was prize enough alone.

'Anomen?'

Anomen glanced up to find Cernd and Minsc both looking at him, the Rashemi wearing a heavy scowl.

'Sorry?'

Cernd was plainly trying not to smile, the man repeating kindly, 'I said that was the sixth bell if you still wish to attend evensong.'

'Oh, I-'

Anomen broke off as the door was slammed shut and Fritha stalked in to the tavern for a second time, though much removed from her previous good humour, it seemed, the girl looking fit to kill. She didn't even glance in their direction, let alone come to speak with them, just marched straight to the bar to be lost in the crowds, and Anomen was on his feet only a moment later, cup in hand.

'If you would excuse me.'

'Fritha, is everything all right?' he asked as he found her, the girl already sat at the bar, a sheaf of papers in her hand, eyes flicking back and forth as she read over them, making notes here and there with a worn stub of pencil, though she glanced up as she saw him.

'Yes, fine,' she answered shortly, frowning as she went back to her reading.

'Well, are you coming to join us at the table?'

'Hmm? No, I'll head upstairs once my drink's arrived. I'm waiting for another batch of spiced wine to be heated.'

Anomen worked to suppress a smile as he continued casually, 'Spiced wine? How fitting: sweet with just the right amount of bite.'

Fritha snorted, his poetical angle nothing if not wholly unexpected, it seemed, the girl making a cursory glance to his cup.

'Oh, very nice. And what are you drinking? Mead? Excellent. Far too syrupy and liable to make me vomit.'

But Anomen just laughed. 'There was a time when I would have been offended by such, but you, I cannot be angry with you.'

'You seem to manage quite well as a rule,' Fritha muttered sullenly, turning back to the papers in her hand.

'May I ask what you are doing?' Anomen continued, abandoning his attempts to bring her from this ill-humour as an impossibility as she tutted, scratching two sharp lines through something and scribbling furiously underneath.

'Rewriting the script for that idiotic play,' she answered dully, no pause to her scrawl. 'Zeran kept reworking it, the cast complained, so now _I _am writing the final version.' She sighed, frowning slightly before striking out yet another line with venom. 'What nonsense, I can't believe I let Higgold choose this rubbish!'

Anomen frowned as well, her rancour unusual enough to be disturbing. 'You liked it well enough before, Fritha.'

'I never had to write lines for it _before_. Tragic tale of love and sacrifice, my eye! The only tragedy is how painfully _thick_ the two leads are! Karenina _insists_ she loves Velden, even though he is old and practically immortal and they both know that to accept their love is to doom Karenina to a life in his mage tower, separated from her people while she withers away and dies as us poor mortals have a wont to do. So what does Velden do? He returns her affections, lives with her until the spring and then turns her to _stone_of all things, so as to _protect_ her from the cruel ravages of the world.'

Anomen drew back slightly, wondering if there was not something more to her sudden disdain for the play.

'Well, perhaps… though I believe others see it a different way. Velden sacrifices his one chance of love to save Karenina from the misery of loving him.'

Fritha snorted. 'Oh, yes, very noble of him. And the end result is that she is as good as dead and he has the rest of eternity to mope about crying over her statue, the idiot.'

'And what _should_ he have done then?'

The girl shrugged as though it was obvious. 'Just waited until the spring and sent her packing, of course, back to her village.'

'She _may_ not have wanted to leave him.'

'So? He should have just made her.'

Anomen could feel his temper rising. 'Even though it was _her_ decision? And what of her desires in the matter? Why should Velden make the choice for them both?'

Fritha returned his glare, her eyes narrowed. 'Well, _perhaps_ she would have seen the wisdom of it when she was back in her comfortable old farm house, surrounded by merry grandchildren and contemplating a long life well-lived.'

'Well, it is your production, my lady, why do you not just re-write it then?' Anomen snapped, all attempts at self-control forgotten now.

'Perhaps I _will!_' she bit back defiantly, 'And everyone will leave the theatre with a smile on their faces rather than crying in to their wine over this _drivel!_'

'Right, there you are, miss,' came Bernard behind them, the man setting a steaming flagon of dark red liquid on the counter.

'Oh, my thanks,' Fritha muttered, seeming rather flustered as she turned to pay him and Anomen watched as she gathered up her papers, finally glancing back to him as she stepped from the stool. 'Well, if you'll excuse me, Anomen, I should get as much of this finished as possible before we have to leave.'

'Yes, good luck,' he wished her sneeringly, 'I am sure the new ending will be a success.'

Fritha sent him a tight smile and brushed past him, heading for the stairs.

'As am I.'

xxx

Aerie waited, listening to the sound of his footsteps fade along the corridor and the distant slam of a door before she turned, raising her skirts as she tripped lightly back up the staircase she had been halted upon. After so many days out in the elements, she had started to feel the beginnings of a cold developing and had made a draft and put herself to bed as soon as they had returned to the city, hoping to forestall the ailment. And sure enough, after a wash and a few hours sleep, Aerie had awoken feeling much refreshed and ready to join the others downstairs for something to eat, though she had not even reached the tavern in the end, Anomen coming up the stairs as she was descending them.

He had seemed a touch unhappy, though he'd spoken mildly enough, telling her the latest news of Tolgerias, only mentioning when she questioned his mood that he had had another quarrel with Fritha, the melancholy way he had dismissed it telling the elf more than his brief account had, before the man had continued his glum trudge up the remaining steps. And Aerie had made her decision there and then, the girl back on the first floor hallway by now and moving along it to raise a hand and knock soundly on Fritha's door.

'Fritha?'

'Yes?' came the muffled reply, Aerie pushing the door open to find Fritha laid across her bed on her stomach, her face almost hidden under the mass of auburn curls where her hair had been left to dry untamed, the girl pouring over a manuscript of sorts, stylus in hand, and did not glance up as she entered.

'A problem, Aerie?'

'No, not especially,' Aerie answered, closing the door and helping herself to the room's only chair, knowing from experience that in moods like this Fritha would let her stand in the doorway all night, if only to punish her timidity.

'I just met Anomen on my way down to the tavern,' she continued conversationally, feeling rather liberated at how unruffled she was by the girl's so far less than warm welcome. 'He was retiring for a few hours before we leave -he did not look very happy.'

'Oh, really?' Fritha muttered absently, still scribbling away.

Aerie frowned, but persisted. 'You know, he can be quite sweet sometimes…'

'So can a lot of people -your _point?_' Fritha challenged sharply, dotting something with more ferocity that was perhaps necessary and spotting the quilt beneath her with ink. Aerie sighed.

'What I mean is, perhaps you should give him a chance.'

'No,' said Fritha airily, 'I don't think we're going to be doing that… but if you are suddenly finding _you_ might like to, then please, be my guest!'

'Certainly not!' exclaimed Aerie, feeling herself going pink at even the suggestion of it. But Fritha was looking up at her for the first time during their exchange, the girl suddenly grinning broadly.

'Now, now, Aerie, don't dismiss this out of hand; he _is_ a knight and you _live_ forall that "courtly love" malarkey. You'd be perfect for each other!'

'You're just teasing me in hopes that I will give up,' the elf observed sharply, 'but it's not going to work. I've spoken to him, Fritha, he seems very unhappy with the way things are between you at the moment.'

'As am I! And I cannot wait for things to return to normal just as soon as he stops declaring his undying love every time he's looked at an ale!'

'Fritha-'

'No,' Fritha cut in, still smiling but there was a firmness behind it now, 'I'm not going to talk about this anymore. Now, are we all set for tonight?'

Aerie sighed, but answered her. 'Yes. I've been looking at Lavok's diary and the translation you made; you're notes were very interesting. Fascinating actually, the way he managed to incorporate the plane shift spell as part of the inner working of the sphere, though I can't imagine how he managed to get a sustainable power source –I am almost looking forward to finding out!'

Fritha smiled at her enthusiasm. 'Ooo, someone's keen.'

Aerie nodded, taking a moment to consider it.

'Yes, it's funny really. It has taken Valygar to make me realise it, but I am really very proud to be a mage.'

Fritha laughed, Aerie joining her, struck as well by the amusing irony of the thing. The elf shook her head still smiling as she confessed, 'I lost so much of who I was when I turned my back on my old life in Faenya Dail. I told myself that I was dead to that world, that I was that avariel no longer. I only realised just recently that in trying to forget the part of my life when I still had my wings, I let a lot of other things go too.' She frowned, waiting for that dark cloud to pass across her heart as she let her mind drift back there. 'It is painful to remember sometimes, but it was back then I first discovered the beauty of the Weave; learning different spells and techniques from my mother and by myself in her library after she had passed away. I learnt a little at the circus, but I never studied it in the same way after I had been captured. And _that_ is what I want to get back to,' she finished decisively. 'Mother always said I had a lot of promise and I want to build on it. I will work hard and live my life and become the best person I can… and perhaps when all this is over,' she continued quietly, wary of voicing such fragile hopes, 'I will be able to return home, even if only for a little while, and see my sisters and father again. It won't be same as it was, but life moves forward and changes, and so must I.'

Fritha smiled kindly and nodded, and Aerie felt an impish amusement stir within her as she added quickly, 'And just to let you know, I still think you should give Anomen a chance.'

Aerie just ducked the pillow that was thrown at her head, Fritha laughing even as she roared, 'Oh, _bugger off!_'

xxx

Valygar was knelt and hunched by the tent flap, his broad back shielding the narrow triangle of the outside world from her view, Jaheira raising herself slightly on her elbow where she was half-reclined behind him.

'The rain is easing off,' he offered. Jaheira nodded.

'Good.'

And she meant it too. They had managed to pitch Valygar's well-used tent before the rains had become too heavy, but it was much smaller than the ones they had bought in Imnesvale with little room to sit and they had spent a cramped and awkward few hours lain next to each other in the gloom just listening to the rain beat against he canvas around them.

For a time, the ranger's breathing had deepened as he had snatched a few hours sleep, but not so for her. It had not occurred to her before, even though she had spent every night since they had left Imnesvale sharing a tent with the snoring form of Minsc, but this was the first time she had slept next to a man since Khalid had passed. Jaheira frowned, realising that it was the sort of foolishness that would be found in the girls' romance novels and not liking the comparison.

She was missing him at the moment, the longing within her almost as bad as when he had first been taken, her heart aching with the knowledge that everything would have been so much better had he been there with her –perhaps even instead of her... Everything was fading. She could still remember what he looked like, how his voice sounded, but that feeling of just having near was fading from her memories and Jaheira knew it would only be a matter of time before everything went as well. As a druid, she should have accepted it, the summer that faded to a winter, but she knew in this case there would be no spring, at least, not as it had been.

A few more moments dragged by, the gentle patting of the rain the only thing to break the silence between them, before that too slowly faded and Valygar threw the tent flap wide and moved outside, Jaheira taking a moment to pull on her boots and grab her pack before joining him. The air was cold and fresh after the humid warmth of the tent, the world about them vivid and sparking as a shaft of sunlight streamed through the clouds above to catch every droplet in that dripping forest. Jaheira turned, glancing down at the tent she had just crawled from. Circumstances had forced them to conceal it as best they could, cutting some bracken from the undergrowth and hacking down a few branches that still had some leaves clinging to them, Jaheira regretting such actions were necessary even as she had worked.

'It is a shame such is required,' came Valygar, reading her thoughts, the man dropping his pack on the sodden ground to sit upon it. 'Will Fritha face the same within the city?'

Jaheira shrugged, dropping her own bag opposite and sinking down as well.

'It is doubtful. Unlike the Cowled Wizards, the Harpers will not bring trouble to Athkatla's streets. The bounty hunters they will have stirred up may not be of the same concern, of course, but I doubt Fritha will be allowed to make her way anywhere alone.'

'You speak of the knight,' Valygar assumed, continuing with his disapproval, 'One who has chosen the life he has should know better than to try and form such attachments –it rarely leads to anything but disappointment.'

'You speak from experience.'

'Perhaps,' he said evasively, admitting after a moment, 'Her name was Suna. She died with the others in the caverns of the Troll Mountains. That is all that needs to be said.'

Jaheira sighed, the sun disappearing behind another cloud and her mood was suddenly as melancholy as that damp decaying forest.

'It is hard to loose ones companions.'

The ranger nodded. 'Yes, though harder still to be forced to end their lives yourself -have you considered surrendering to the Harpers?'

'Yes…' she said after a moment, admitting something to him that she would have flatly denied to anyone else, 'but without knowing how far this corruption has spread and with so many within their ranks out for revenge, I cannot be sure of a fair trial.'

'What did you do that warranted such action?'

'As I said, a small number of Harpers under a man called Galvarey tried to imprison Fritha, to contain the chaos she is prophesised to sow despite having little evidence to support their claims. When I would not let them, a fight broke out, Galvarey and the other Harpers involved were killed and now we are pursued for their murders.'

Valygar sent her a measured look. 'And do you still believe you acted correctly?'

'Yes,' she answered very promptly, not wanting to even _consider_ the alternative, 'Fritha's imprisonment was nothing more than a show to gain favour with our more senior members.'

'You are so sure? The girl is-'

'Worthy of _your_ trust, considering what she gave up to help you,' Jaheira snapped, glad to feel the fire of her conviction and in that instant she felt closer to Khalid than she had in long while. 'But,' she continued more calmly, making no apology for her sharpness, 'what are your plans once Lavok is defeated and your oath is fulfilled?'

The ranger shrugged, turning to gaze blankly through the trees in the direction of the city.

'Cowled Wizards will still be hunting me, even if only to kill me for thwarting them and ruining their chances of obtaining the sphere. I will have to return to hiding, though I will be free of my oath and that will be recompense enough. And what of you?' he continued, raising himself slightly to unfasten his flask from the pack beneath him, 'Your own lives could be in danger once the Wizards have learnt of your betrayal.'

'We have a knight of the Order in our company and… _friends_ elsewhere, both in the city and without, who wish us to remain alive for one reason or another -the Cowled Wizards will not act openly against us.'

Valygar took a long draft of water, holding her gaze as he swallowed to ask pointedly, 'And what of the Harpers?'

Jaheira felt her lips curl slightly in a dry smile.

'Once back in the city I will work on getting word of our innocence to those I know will hear me. Any who knew me in the Harpers, truly knew me, will listen and believe.'

Valygar passed the flask to her, with a wry smile of his own.

'Then let us drink to our impending freedom.'

xxx

Valygar strode over the rain-slick cobbles, Jaheira at his side and keeping pace with him in a way that would have surprised him had he not previously known another who had managed just as well. It had been easy enough to enter the city. The gates were never closed except in times of unrest and slipping past two weather-worn guards at the end of their shift was hardly a task, he and Jaheira hurrying through the open gateway to be swallowed by the twisting maze of rundown streets, making their way to the north-west of the slums.

Valygar cast about him, eyes searching every shadow as they walked through the sprawling mess of dilapidated warehouses, the ranger tensed for trouble, either from his new companions or in spite of them. A few of the better warehouses they had passed looked to be occupied, bright with the fires of those who could not even find a home within the slums. But that had been a while ago now, the great ramshackle buildings dark and silent about them and finally they were upon it, the wide junction where he had first been dragged by those mages, though it looked much different now, Minsc and Cernd stood keeping warm by a small iron brazier, Anomen next to them as he burnt what was likely some mix of herbs from the pungent almost spicy scent of the smoke, Aerie moving a large leather bag in complicated patterns and leaving a trail of fine white sand as she marked out the summoning circle, Fritha stood on the sidelines with Lavok's diary reading out the instructions.

'And then we just need the symbol of Demekov in the centre, Aerie –Oh, hello there!' Fritha called out brightly as she noticed their approach, as though they had just met in local tavern not the backend of the slums. 'You made it all right then?'

Jaheira nodded once. 'Yes, the guards did not even note our passing-'

'Oh, watch the line,' Fritha cut in, pointing to the narrow line of sand that made a thin white boarder all around the casting area, a complicated symbol at each corner. 'Good, isn't it?' the girl enthused, as they both stepped over it and continued their approach. 'It's a nifty little charm that Aerie worked out. It should keep the Cowled Wizards from realising we're casting anything -though when a hundred foot tall planar sphere turns up it's probably going to be a bit redundant,' she laughed, Jaheira joining her in a smile.

'So, is everything ready?'

Fritha shrugged. 'Pretty much. Aerie is just finishing off the circle with the ritual sand we bought in Imnesvale –and a good job we did as well, it's far too wet to use chalk. Anomen is just burning the herbs that should cleanse the air of any negative charges leftover from the last spell that was started here –just a precaution, but one best taken. And now _you're_ here, Valygar, we've the most important ingredient of all,' she added blithely.

Jaheira snorted, shaking her head as she moved to join the others at the brazier.

'For one about to do battle with a five hundred year old necromancer you are in remarkably fine spirits,' Valygar observed dryly.

Fritha grinned. 'Still worried those mages are going to make an appearance?'

Valygar frowned and she laughed heartily, clapping his arm. 'Oh, why take life so seriously? We'll none of us get out alive.'

'Well, that is me finished,' came Aerie, delicately picking her way back out the circle, the light breeze that was blowing doing nothing to disturb the sand she had just traced out. Fritha smiled and nodded, Aerie dusting off her hands as Fritha passed her the diary.

'Good, good. Now the passage for the summoning is just here. I've written it out phonetically beneath for you.'

'Are you sure _you_ don't want to try the ritual first, Fritha? Start your education, as it were,' the elf teased. 'It all seems simple enough –I mean, it can only not work.'

Fritha held up her hands before herself. 'No, no, I think I had best let the experts handle it.'

Aerie laughed, taking the book over to the light of the brazier where she could better read it, and Fritha watched her a moment, her face given a golden hue as she stooped over the yellow flames. Aerie had made her offer when they had spoken earlier, (when Fritha had finally wrestled her off the subject of _Anomen, _that was) the elf offering to help her draw out and better understand the latent magic within her, just as Dynaheir once had -though the Wychlaran had never had the chance in the end.

Fritha was not really sure where she was going to find the time with trying to find work for them and Higgold having a crisis over at the theatre every other day. But it had been kind of Aerie to offer and it _would_ be useful to learn about her ever-growing power. More than that, Aerie seemed to need the company at the moment, the girl trying so hard to face up to her past whilst walking towards her future. _And_, as Fritha considered how much she had been talking to herself recently, perhaps it would not hurt for her to have a little more company either.

It seemed her lessons were not something that all of them considered a benefit though, Valygar turning that familiar frown upon her to ask, 'You are _apprenticing_ to Aerie?'

'Oh, no, no,' Fritha refuted genially, 'But there is a magic in me, probably something to do with the Bhaal blood sloshing around my veins, and Aerie has _very kindly_ offered to help me learn more of it.'

Valygar looked astounded. 'There is a magic within you with likely roots to a divine evil -and you would _encourage_ this power?'

_Oh gods, look at his eyes. Only a century ago he would have been head of the Bonfire Building committee -Suffer not the witch to live!_

'Is something amusing?' he asked sharply as she felt her face twist with a smirk, the girl quickly shaking her head.

'No, nothing. And I know it sounds bad, Valygar, but this power grows without any encouragement from me, so I thought it would be wise to find out at least make sure I have full control of it. Goodness, don't look so afraid,' she laughed gently, trying to put him at ease, 'my latest discovery was hardly earth shattering, see.'

She quickly sectioned out a long curl of hair to show him, pressing a finger either side of the lock at the roots and pulling down the length, taking the curl from it as she went to leave it as straight and sleek as Nalia's had been. Fritha laughed, the trick still new enough to be delighted in. 'It doesn't even last very long; it clearly takes something stronger than the sorcery of mere mortals to take the curl from _my_ hair.'

She flicked the end to send the curl ripping back up it, though the expression on Valygar's face could not have looked more appalled if it had turned into a live snake and tried to bite him.

'Are we ready?' called Aerie and the pair turned back to find her stood at the far end of the circle, 'Right, er, Valygar, I, well-'

'You need some of my blood,' the ranger supplied for her bluntly, instantly drawing his knife to slice along the top of his palm with a detachment that made the elf wince.

'Oh, ah, right, just a splash in the centre should do it,' she instructed, Valygar leaning over the outer symbols, careful not to disturb the sand as he let a few bright scarlet drops fall on the overly complex sign of Demekov. Aerie nodded once, drawing a deep breath, one hand aloft, the other holding the diary as she began to intone the spell.

'_Ull parti sempris na'than, Lavok; Lavok pertis yentus imere…_'

Aerie's chant went on long enough for the silence to seem strange once she had finished. There was a definite tingle to the air now, Fritha's hair protesting with bright spits of static as she moved to pin it back. Everyone was looking up, searching the cloudy skies for some sign that would signal their retreat to a safe distance, Fritha waiting for her eye to catch on something akin to a shooting star, but not even the moon had appeared to break that heavy field of grey. Across the circle, Aerie was frowning, reading over the diary again checking for some error on her part and Fritha sighed, letting her attention drift, the light from the brazier throwing odd shadows against the warehouse walls, faint lines reflecting in the still flickering flames, crossing this way and that in rectangles of differing sizes, all connecting together…

Fritha blinked, quickly turning to look about her, the faint outline of a cluster of pipes running along the air at their side, room after room with walls of riveted panels stretching off in all directions, the ghosts of hatchways and ladders and machinery all hanging in the air, the dark backdrop of warehouses and sky still visible through them all as the vessel slowly materialised about them. Fritha glanced down, the spectre of a girder passing neatly through her abdomen and she felt her panic swell as it dawned on her.

'Oh, Gods! RUN!'

Just an instant to check the others had heeded her and Fritha turned to tear back along the street, ears filled with the sudden roar of her blood, her pulse thundering with the heavy footfalls of those just behind her. She reached their line of safe distance first, the junction of the next set of warehouses, the girl whirling back and there it was, whole before them: a great smooth sphere of dull bronze plates.

'By Helm…' breathed Anomen behind her, his awe mirroring her own. It was huge, twice the height of any of the surrounding warehouses, the summoning circle now obscured beneath it and Fritha realised why the mages had originally placed the summoning point there. The sphere had cut clear away the warehouse they had just been next to, the walls where it had materialised just gone, vaporised, just leaving the rest of the dilapidated old storehouse as whole as it had ever been, as though the sphere had always been there and the warehouse had been constructed around it. And just above the roof, halfway up the smooth globe Fritha could see it: a pale yellow light streaming from an open hatchway.

'Did you know it would just appear like that?' asked Cernd, a little breathless himself.

'Of course not -and at no point in that diary did it mention anything about it either_,_' answered Fritha crossly, feeling as though the book had somehow betrayed her.

'Oh, no, no, no! Boo says this is very bad!'

'What is it Minsc?' came Jaheira, turning a frown upon the ranger. But Fritha had suddenly noticed it too as she cast about them: Aerie and Valygar were gone.


	71. Hell is where the heart is

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

**Hell is where the heart is**

Fritha felt the muscles in her arms tense, straining as she heaved herself up, twisting her body to take a seat in the open hatchway, Cernd, Anomen and Jaheira already crowded into the small room behind her, all jaundiced in that sickly yellow light. It had been a hurried albeit easy enough climb to get up there, the group rushing back towards the sphere to scale a stack of rotting crates at the farthest end of the warehouse before edging along what was left of the old wooden roof. Jaheira had gone first, the woman leaving her staff with Cernd as she had tripped lightly over to the open hatchway and peered over the rim, shouting back to them with the 'all clear' but moments later, before disappearing inside.

Fritha glanced down. Minsc was stood waiting on the roof below her, the last of their group to make the climb and she hastened to get out of his way, turning to swing her legs inside and taking Jaheira's offered hand to help her to her feet to find herself stood with the others in the small circular room. The walls were made from the same bronze plates as the outside of the sphere, three circular doorways leading from it, one open and two closed, the doors themselves just a smooth plate of the same bronze metal, a small panel of different coloured buttons situated next to the central one. There was a low hum to the air just on the edge of her hearing and Fritha had a feeling it was being emitted from the wan yellow lights above them, large panels of frosted glass that encircled the centre of the domed ceiling like the luminescent petals of some strange flower. Fritha blinked feverishly as she lowered her gaze; the all-pervading glare of yellow and bronze was making her eyes water.

Behind her, Minsc had finally heaved himself up from the roof to join them, the ranger starting his anxious shouts before he had even got to his feet.

'AERIE? AERIE?'

'Minsc!' Jaheira interrupted in a snap, 'I doubt she will be able to hear you, _however_ loudly you bellow -all the doors are closed.'

'This one isn't,' offered Cernd mildly, stepping through the doorway to their right, his gasp enough to draw Fritha in after him, the others close behind her.

'What is-?' she began, though her query was lost to a sigh of her own as the girl stared down at a large oval basin, so large it almost filled the room, the bronze dish brimming not with water but a rippling image of the surrounding slums, the jumble of dark streets and houses a perfect match to the sprawl she knew was just outside, right down to the flickering lights of the windows and streetlamps.

'The detail…' Fritha breathed as she leaned closer, 'it's amazing –look, you can see the Coronet!'

'Is it some sort of map?' questioned Anomen somewhere behind her. Fritha tore her eyes from it in time to see Cernd shake his head, looking somewhat troubled.

'I am not sure. Look there -and there… people, and they're moving…'

A mechanical hiss sounded somewhere in the room behind them, Fritha whirling back at the noise.

'What was that?'

No one was given the chance to answer her though as an almightily jolt shook the room, the group thrown to the floor, helpless in the sudden darkness as their surroundings tremoured, the distant rumble of working machinery echoing about the metal room. And then it stopped, everything silent once more, the lights flickering back on though much more dimly that before.

Fritha could feel herself being helped to sit, the girl shaking her hair from her eyes to see Cernd, the man half-behind, half-underneath her where she had been thrown against him.

'Are you unharmed?' he asked kindly and she nodded, shifting herself from his lap and already glancing about them to check on the others. Jaheira was holding the edge of the map basin as she tried to slowly regain her feet, Minsc leaning back against the wall looking relieved, letting Boo run across his hands after spending a few frantic moments patting his pockets, stricken with the worry that he had fallen upon the hamster, while Anomen was sat next to him, fiercely rubbing his head where he had caught it against the door jam, looking like it was taking all his self-restraint not to _curse_ fiercely too.

'Oh dear,' murmured Jaheira, suddenly transfixed by the map they had all been staring at just moments before and Fritha struggled to her feet to look as well, her breath catching in her throat as she gazed down on, not the slums, but a landscape of charred rock and steam, the miniature figures of creatures not native to _anywhere_ on the Prime dotted sparingly across the surface. A moment to take it in and there was a scramble, everyone rushing back to the other room to now find the door they had entered through sealed, Fritha looking for a moment like she would collapse to her knees before it.

'We've plane shifted,' she breathed. 'Oh merciful Illmater, we've plane shifted!'

'We have left the city?' Minsc confirmed with a frown, not quite grasping the gravity of their situation, 'Then, Boo wonders, where have we gone?'

'From what I have seen in guides within the temple libraries, I would say some layer of the infernal planes,' offered Anomen grimly.

Fritha gave a miserable groan. 'I. Am. So. Stupid!' she cried, punctuating each word by knocking her head against the metal doorframe and only stopped when Anomen placed his hands on her shoulders and gently pulled her back from it, the girl whirling about to demand of no one in particular, 'Why do I keep _doing_ this? Once again I've left Imoen on the Prime with no one who even _knows_ of her, while we're here stuck on some gods-forsaken layer of the Hells!'

Jaheira stepped up, the calm voice of reason. 'Well, let us just focus on one thing at a time; we need to be reunited with Aerie and Valygar.' She moved to the door opposite, still sealed and looking just as unmoveable as before, 'How do we get in? Fritha?'

'Why are you asking _me_?'

Jaheira sighed tersely. 'Because _you_ translated that diary.'

'No, I translated _parts_ of that diary –did you see the size of that thing?'

'Well, have a read of it now!' Jaheira snapped; her air of calm was wavering.

'I can't,' Fritha sighed, looking intensely frustrated, 'Aerie has it.'

xxx

Aerie fought to untangle herself from her robes and find her feet, the man next to her already stood, his outline stooped as he searched for Lavok's diary in the limited glow of her werelight. The last thing she remembered was running, her lungs screaming for air as she willed her limbs to move faster, the others just ahead of her in that dark rain-slick street. And then nothing and she had been almost wild with panic when she had awoken in the pitch blackness, her discovery that she was not alone making her breathless with reverential gratitude, though it was only an instant later she felt her Lord, Baervar, might have been having a little fun at her expense as her werelight opened out the tall and scowling form of _Valygar_.

Though not the best suited pair, they were co-operating at least, Valygar pleased when she had produced Lavok's diary, the man showing her a section further back that opened out into an extensive plan of the sphere's innards. It had taken them long enough, though, to work out where they were, and they had just started to make their way out when the floor had begun to shake.

'What _was_ that?' asked Aerie, glancing about her warily though even her eyes could only penetrate the darkness a short way.

Valygar sighed, no pause to his search.

'I do not know, but I doubt it was anything to our benefit,' he answered, his eyes finally falling upon the diary. _'Ah!'_ He dropped the book as soon as he had grasp it, forgetting the deep cut along his palm in his haste, straightening with scowl to readjust the handkerchief he had tied around it.

'Here,' said Aerie gently, making to take his hand, 'let me heal that.'

He snatched it back from her as though he expected to lose it. 'No, it is fine.'

'Oh, suit yourself then,' Aerie muttered sharply, stooping to retrieve the book herself and trying to find her place, finally coming to the thick sheaf of pages and carefully unfolding the large plan once more.

'Right, we are here in the lower level, second quarter -and the hatchway where the others must have entered is here, in the first quarter of the third level, so we need to carry on following these pipes until we reach a wall, then turn left and we should come to a service ladder to the first level.'

'You assume your friends made it outside the sphere –they could be trapped in here just as we,' Valygar offered.

'And would you have us search the _whole_ sphere?' asked Aerie tartly, not wanting dwell on the wisdom of his words –after all, there was only one diary and _they_ had it. 'Come on, we have to hurry, the others will be worrying -you have seen how Minsc can get when he believes one of his friends is threatened.'

Valygar raised a stern eyebrow, though he looked more surprised than angered. 'Are _you_ trying to _threaten_ me?'

She actually had been, experimenting with the feeling of it, though she realised immediately it did not suit her, however subtly it was borne.

'Of course not!' Aerie exclaimed with as much indignation as she could muster considering it was a lie and the pair set off, making a quick pace through the darkness. 'Anyway, why would I bother, since you _already_ seem to feel so fearful of me.'

Aerie did not need to see the ranger's face to hear his frown.

'I am not _fearful_, merely wary. Understand, Aerie, I do not think you a danger now, neither you nor Fritha, despite her parentage. I only know that the power within you corrupts, and that if _you_ will not be on constant guard against this evil, then _I_ must, lest we all face another Lavok in but a few decades time.'

Aerie was tempted to point out that in a few decades time, Valygar's long dark braids would be more grey than black and he would in no position to stop her should she have decided to become the necromantic scourge of Amn. But she concluded that it would hardly help their relations and said only as she pointed to the metal wall that was looming out of the darkness, 'There, we turn left here.'

xxx

Fritha jumped back with a hiss as the open panel she had been leaning in to sparked, for an instant blinding and burning her both. They were still trapped in the cramped entrance chamber, her at the door while the others were behind her, some sat, while some, like Minsc, were stood, the man pacing anxiously as she worked. Fritha felt pretty certain that the panel next to the main door was supposed to have operated the thing, but no amount of button prodding had worked or indeed given any response and Fritha had a sinking feeling that whatever had dimmed the lights might have affected other mechanisms about the sphere as well.

And so, after Minsc had finally grown tired and admitted defeat when it came to breaking the door down, Fritha had used the tip of her knife to pry off the panel itself and was now trying to decipher the inner workings, the small hatchway a jumble of glass cylinders and metal pipes that were linked intermittently with glowing blue crystals. It was powered by magic of that she was sure, though it seemed that since the sphere had plane shifted there was no longer enough energy to work the mechanism and Fritha had been trying to coax out some of her own magic as a substitute, though with little success.

'Oh, hurry, young Fritha,' Minsc fretted behind her, the man halting his pacing to stand wringing his large scarred hands, 'Aerie could be alone facing devils and demons and-'

'Well, it's going to be one or the other, Minsc,' said Jaheira curtly, approaching the girl to ask, 'How goes it, Fritha?'

'As well as it looks!' Fritha snapped, '_Ah!_'

She bit back another curse as the panel sparked again and burnt her fingers, the girl sending a flare of magic back into it out of mere temper and across the chamber the leftmost door slid smoothly open.

'Oh,' said Fritha, instantly mollified, 'well, six and half a dozen, I suppose. Shall we investigate?'

Fritha had already straightened to draw her sword, the others about her readying their weapons as well as she approached. Through the circular doorway she could see the room beyond, unreal in the flickering yellow light, a large unlit furnace set against the back wall, while all about it were heaped collections of crudely formed limbs, heads and torsos in a variety of metals: Lavok had an interest in golems it seemed.

Jaheira was at the mouth now, the woman the first to step through the circular doorway, casting about her warily.

'It looks-'

Fritha's shriek cut her off as the door swept shut, Cernd leaping forward just in time to wedge his staff in the narrow gap still left, Anomen and Minsc already straining against the mechanism to pull the metal panel back. Jaheira was paying their efforts little heed though, whirling to face the room behind her as an inhuman roar echoed through the chamber, what had looked to be just another pile of golem parts slowly struggling to its feet.

'Hurry!' she pressed, lowering her staff at the construct for all the good it would do.

'Open the door!' shouted Cernd, Fritha dropping her sword to tear back to the panel, with no idea of what she would do when she got there, but, fortunately, she was not needed. Minsc gave the door an almighty heave, the metal plate grinding back a few more inches and Jaheira slipped awkwardly through the gap, everyone leaping back from the door as it finally snapped shut.

Jaheira was bent double, hands resting upon her knees, her staff on the floor at her feet as Cernd hovered over her, everyone panting like they had just sprinted a league.

'Jaheira, are-'

Everyone jumped, a loud thud sounding from the other side of the door, followed by another and another, the slow rhythmic pounding almost like a heartbeat echoing about the chamber as the golem trapped within hammered relentlessly on the metal. Fritha swallowed, turning back to the panel behind her; there could be no more mistakes now.

xxx

'So, you say that power corrupts, but we can all achieve power one way or another -a man may be able to wield a sword, it doesn't mean he will become evil.'

Valygar drew in a long slow breath as he struggled to keep the cool detachment for which he was reputed. The elf had been talking so since they had set off, the strangeness of their surroundings the only thing to provide the occasional, and welcome, respite. They had found their way from the bowels of the sphere some time ago and were now on the first level making their way through the labyrinth of dark narrow corridors as they headed for the core of the sphere. The way seemed simple enough on Lavok's plans, just lines and squares that gave no hint of the oddities they held, the pair passing room after room, each sealed, a numeral of old Loross embossed upon the metal with a small circular window of thick glass set above it.

Some had seemed empty while others were decidedly not. Already they had passed a room that was, for all intents and purposes, on fire, a fierce heat radiating from the metal door while flames licked and danced within. Another had been walled entirely with mirrors and strangest of all was the last room they had passed, the walls covered in what appeared to be the religious symbols of every good god he recognised -and many he did not- a dark shape huddled and laughing softly against the far wall.

Valygar had been curious enough to overcome his customary wariness and take a step closer to the glass, but Aerie had caught his arm, and it had been the sudden fear to her face more than anything that had made him heed her, the pair moving swiftly on. But even these curiosities served only to distract the elf for a short time before they inevitably came back to the subject of his 'unwarranted distrust of the arcane' -_why_ could she not just accept his beliefs and have done with it?

'It is not the power that corrupts,' he clarified gruffly, 'but the actual magic itself.'

Aerie stared up at him with a curious surprise. 'So the magic of the Weave is the source of this evil? How can it be? Mystra is good.'

'So? She is a goddess; we are mere mortals.'

'But Jaheira, Cernd and Anomen all use magic, why don't you think they are going to be corrupted?'

Valygar sighed; he had been waiting for this one. '_Their_ magic comes from the gods.'

'So does mine, as we just established,' Aerie reminded promptly, 'it comes from Mystra.'

'No, that goddess may rule it, but magic is not a gift for your service and worship -any may make use of the power have they enough education and skill.'

'So, does that mean you're not worried about Fritha either then? _Her_ magic comes from a god,' the elf pointed out slyly. Valygar rolled his eyes though he was saved from answering as they came to the end of the corridor, the room opening out to a large and unusually, rectangular room, the opposite side so far away as to be swathed in shadows.

On the map, it was easily the largest of all the rooms, a cavernous square that took up the whole lower centre of the sphere and now he could see why. Barring a narrow ledge that ran the perimeter, the floor was just water, a huge pool spanning the entire room and Valygar could tell from the plans that the little they could see was nothing compared to the size of the thing underneath the surface. Aerie had taken a step closer to peer down into the water, her werelight hovering just above her, opening the depths in a light green-blue before they was lost to blackness once more.

'This is amazing…' she breathed, 'what do you imagine it's for?'

'I don't,' he said bluntly, but she was ignoring him anyway.

'It could be the water supply for the sphere, but what spell would need so mu- Oh!' she gasped, starting back though her gaze was still riveted upon the water and Valygar could see it too, something staring back at her from just under the surface. It was humanoid in appearance, a flat round face of black pebble-bright eyes and pale green skin that was lightly mottled like shark's hide, though it was hard to make out many details under the rippling surface of the water. It watched the elf for a moment, seemingly as curious as she was, when a swish of fins and the creature was gone.

'We should keep moving,' said Valygar, already starting to edge along the narrow ledge, 'there is a ladder to the second level on the other side.'

Aerie nodded mutely, the elf remaining silent until they had climbed up and were walking along another dark cramped corridor, the circular light at the end indicating they may have finally reached the main body of the sphere, this lull clearly prompting the elf's return to their previous discussion.

'I just find it so strange that a reasonable man can hold such an irrational view of something most people would see as at least useful, if not a blessing.'

If Valygar had been a god-worshiping man, he would have cursed the lot of Them.

'If it bothers you so, perhaps we should refrain from speaking of it,' he offered tightly. But the elf just smiled.

'Oh, no, I actually find it quite interesting,' she said cheerfully. 'Most people always assume I am weak based on my appearance and manner, and here you are worrying about me becoming some arcane juggernaut of destruction. I wonder if this is how Fritha feels all the time,' she considered aloud, as she went back to the map in her hands, 'She is just a normal girl and everyone seems to expect her to rampage around like the embodiment of Bhaal Himself.' She laughed lightly, letting a finger trace over the plans as the doorway before them neared to allow a glimpse of the room beyond, a strange mix of chamber and cavern, the walls a rough stone that melded back into the familiar bronze plates as they reached the dome-like ceiling. Aerie was still reading over the plans as she made to step over the doorsill, 'Now this room looks to be the beginning to the central hub-'

The elf almost dropped the diary as Valygar seized her firmly about the shoulders and pulled her back into the darkness of the corridor, her eyes wide above the hand he had clamped over her mouth. He slowly shook his head, gently releasing her to point back to the room just beyond the shadows and the huge boiled pink floating sphere of leathery skin, the creature muttering away to itself, its many eyes seemingly focused on the large sealed hatchway behind it.

'Thinks to make _me_ one of his test subjects -does he even realise with whom he is dealing? His magic is nothing compared to my own, why- GAAAHHH!' it suddenly roared, its frustrations getting the better of it as it released a barrage of spells against the unyielding metal, 'I HAVE ESCAPED YOUR PATHETIC CAGE! COME OUT HERE AND FACE ME, LAVOK! I WILL BE YOUR PRISONER NO LONGER!'

'A beholder!' Aerie breathed seemingly mesmerised in her horror, 'It's huge, at least as big as the one Gaal and the cult worshiped.'

'And it is in our path,' Valygar added pointedly. Aerie frowned.

'It does not appear to be on good terms with Lavok; perhaps we could reason with it?'

'Do you wish to try?' he asked with the hint of a smile. The elf returned it rather sheepishly.

'Perhaps not. Well, I suppose the only other way past it will be some sort of concealment spell.'

'_What?'_

'Fine,' she snapped, seemingly losing patience with him, 'you go out there and talk to it then, and while it's distracted eating you, I'll sneak past. Look,' she reasoned, 'I can't see any other way around on the plans.'

Valygar frowned. He did not like relying on magic, but he had done so in the past and, in joining this group, he had known he would likely have to do so in the future too, at least for the duration he was with them.

'All right,' he sighed, moving to take the diary from her and free her hands, 'just make it quick.'

xxx

Fritha danced to the side, making very sure Minsc was still at her back as the throng pressed in about her legs, their assailants what she _would_ have described as halflings -if halflings were feral bloodthirsty little monsters; all quick hands and gnashing teeth. She stepped back, dodging a sweep from a vicious bone dagger and blocking a stab from another to bring her sword around, the halfling's cured leather armour providing little protection as she made the quick thrust through his torso, his fellows trampling him underfoot as they fought to fill the gap in their ranks.

After a lot of tweaking and some _very_ nervous experimentation, Fritha had finally managed to open the main door and their group had begun a slow advance into the sphere. It had seemed empty for the most part, silent as a tomb and just as eerie, the only noise the constant drone of the flickering yellow lights that hung in strips above them. Most of the doors they had come to could not be opened (and after the success of last time, Fritha was not attempting to force them), but some seemed to have retained enough power to function, the group making their way along narrow corridors that occasionally opened out into rooms.

The majority were just as plain and empty as the entrance chamber, though some were furnished, one lined with shelves of empty glass jars, another room bare but for what looked to be a tall oval mirror, though it showed no reflection and, most sinister of all, one room that looked similar to the parlour of some quaintly rustic house, right down to the neat stone walls and freshly scrubbed floorboards. The image her mind had conjured for her of Lavok sitting himself down by the hearth of an evening, a cup of ale resting on his gingham be-deck table was too disturbing to be amusing, even for Fritha. Two more doorways had led from there, though one did not look as though it could be opened from that side, Fritha translating a panel next to it that said something concerning a "vacuumed airlock" and a warning about "bubble charms being in place _before_ depressurisation" that no one much liked the sound of, though, as it turned out, the other door had lead to somewhere just as unpleasant.

Fritha glanced about her, the room nothing like what they had come upon yet and they could easily be back upon the Prime in some small cave. Well almost, she conceded, the rough stone walls bathed in the same flickering yellow light as the rest of the sphere, circular metal hatchways at each end of the long wide bridge of natural rock that seemed to just hang in the void of the chamber, the edges just falling away to an impenetrable blackness.

Fritha took another step to the side as, behind her, Minsc made huge swing with his greatsword, scattering the halflings before him, the small head that bounced past her indicating at least one had not been fast enough. The room had seemed as empty as the rest of the sphere when they had first arrived, but then hatchway had closed behind them, a shrill warbling chorus of cries rising up from the grouping of rough dwellings at the other end of the stone spur. And suddenly they were swarming down the slight slope, a band of halflings at least a score in number, all clad in simple skins and leather armour decorated with strings of bones and teeth though it was hard to see more under the wild tangle of hair, and they had had only enough time to ready their own weapons before they were surrounded.

Anomen, Jaheira and Cernd were further down the slope and doing well, the ground about them littered with dead, the two druids fighting the creatures at a distance, while the knight was most assuredly on the attack, his shield before him as he weighed each swing, those halfling who could not dodge his mace not surviving to regret it.

Fritha whirled to block a blow to her stomach, the heavy thigh bone the halfling was wielding as a club impacting on the edge of her blade only to shatter, Fritha squinting as she was showered in the sharp splinters. The jagged bone shard the halfling had been left with was already being thrust at her thigh and she stepped back to parry it, another of her assailants taking advantage of this and diving for her legs as well.

Fritha shrieked, hastening to dodge but Minsc was already there before her, a heavy boot sending him flying, and for a moment even his fellows seemed to pause to watch his descent, the halfling's shrill cry fading as it disappeared over the edge of the spar. Fritha pressed the advantage of this momentary distraction, stepping back, her sword in both hands as she took a wide swing at those before her, her blade passing through the neck of the first and well into the face of the second, Minsc impaling another as the halfling turned to run, while at the next group Anomen was pressing forward with his shield to sweep the final pair off the edge of the outcrop, their cries echoing away to leave the room silent.

'What _on Toril_ were they?' gasped Fritha, the girl still brushing fragments of bone from her hair she sheathed her sword.

'Well, we are no longer on Toril, so take your guess,' said Jaheira mordantly. Fritha sent her a sarcastic grimace and turned to walk up to the next circular doorway, the room beyond walled with the familiar metal panels that Fritha had never before thought she would be happy to see. It was similar to many of the rooms they had come across, just plain and empty, three doors leading from it, two with small viewing portals, while the other was just the usual metal plate. Fritha moved over to the nearest, leaning up to peer through the small window.

'Can you see anything?' asked Anomen, stepping up behind her too look himself. Fritha shook her head, still straining to see through the darkness beyond.

'No. No way through at least, it's just dark and empt- Oh!'

She jumped back, her chain-covered shoulders meeting Anomen's breastplate in clatter of metal as a shadowy face was suddenly pressed up against the glass, the creature hissing at her through a tattered amorphous mouth before it twisted away as though in water to merge again with the darkness. Fritha sent the knight a frown in her embarrassment, not pleased to suddenly find him so close, the girl brushing past him to join Cernd at the window of the door opposite.

'What about that one?'

xxx

Aerie only just kept her balance as she was no less than thrown through the open doorway, Valygar diving in behind her to slam a hand on the control panel next to it, the featureless metal door sweeping shut, only to tremble as the magic blast impacted with the other side.

'PATHETIC SERVANTS, I WILL DESTROY YOUR MASTER AND THEN TEAR YOU LIMB FROM LIMB! I WILL-'

Aerie glanced to Valygar to offer him a weak smile, the pair of them still panting heavily from their mad sprint across the chamber. Her plan of sneaking past the beholder under the cloak of her concealment spell had failed at about halfway across, when it had turned and it seemed not all of its eyes were fooled, the creature giving an outraged roar, the only thing which had prevented it from calling its magics straight away and killing them both. And Valygar had taken this advantage; the ranger instantly grabbed her to tear the rest of the way, the chamber for which they had been heading too small for the beholder even if it had managed to blast the door away.

Aerie swallowed as the creature's roars finally faded, the girl turning to the man next to her to venture, 'What do you-?'

A mechanical hiss behind them, the pair whirling, weapons readied as the door slid aside and for a moment the two groups just stared at each other, when relieved laughter exploded from both sides, Minsc rushing forward to lift Aerie clear off her feet as he caught her in a crushing embrace.

'Ah, you made it through,' cried Aerie once the Rashemi had finally released her, 'I was so worried.'

'_You_ were worried,' laughed Fritha, 'Minsc here was beside himself.'

'Did you know we've plane shifted?' asked Jaheira and the elf shrugged, glancing to the man next to her.

'We did suspect something like that. Where are we now?'

'Well, we've a choice of either the Abyss or the Nine Hells,' offered Fritha resignedly, 'so take your pick.'

'Does the diary give any indication of where Lavok might be found?' asked Anomen. Aerie frowned.

'Well, there's a map that shows a central control room -he would likely be there if anywhere and in any case that is where the controls would be for us to plane shift back to the Prime. It's just back through that doorway only –only, well, one of Lavok's test subjects appears to have freed itself and is now through there attacking anything it can find.'

'It's a beholder,' explained Valygar, 'an Elder Orb by its size and power.'

A grim silence met this revelation.

'Can we reason with it?' offered Cernd after a moment. Aerie did not look hopeful.

'It's very angry -I don't think anyone would last long enough to open talks.'

Jaheira sighed tersely. 'By Silvanus! Well, is there some other way into the central chamber?'

Valygar shrugged indifferently. 'There may be through the ducts or pipe work, but if there is, it is not shown on this plan.'

'What about sneaking past it?'

'Well, it can see through concealment spells.'

'_Besheba's horns!_ What about-?'

'Wait,' cut in Minsc, Aerie glancing to her to find the man looking not at them, but back through the doorway they had just come through, his eyes focused on something much further away, 'wait, Boo has a plan…'

xxx

'The plan is sound enough; I just do not understand why it has to be _you_.'

Fritha rolled her eyes and sighed deeply, no pause to her march. They had been discussing this ever since Minsc's plan was agreed, albeit with her one minor alteration, and she knew very well that Anomen understood _why_ it had to be her –he just did not like it.

'Because _I_ can work the door -well, mostly,' she explained again as they made their way through the maze of corridors back to the entrance chamber, 'and _I_ can run the fastest. I was the fastest thing in Candlekeep -which I know doesn't sound impressive since the average age there _was_ fifty, but I _am_ very fast.'

Anomen frowned, not looking at all reassured. 'But without your armour-'

'I will be even faster,' Fritha cut in firmly, as they finally stepped into the entrance chamber, 'You liked the plan well enough when Minsc was the one doing all the running about, what is this sudden fuss you're making? Is this because you like me now, or something? You were never bothered about me doing dangerous things before.'

Anomen drew back looking hurt.

'I was _always_ concerned for you, Fritha, I merely never voiced it.'

'Yes, well, I much preferred it that way,' Fritha muttered under her breath as she bent double to shrug her chainmail into a gleaming pool at her feet.

'Here,' she huffed, straightening to hand it to the man still at her side, 'take that back, will you? And tell the others to be ready; this cannot go wrong or we could end up fighting both of them.'

Anomen was still frowning, moving a hand up though he stopped just short of gripping her shoulder.

'Please, Fritha, just be careful.'

She sent him a grin.

'I always am!'

The man sighed and turned on his heel to sweep off, Fritha listening to his footsteps fade, counting them absently in her head, imagining where they would be were she walking with him until she was sure he had reached the others in the final chamber.

_Right, this is it. _

The front of the control panel was still off, resting on the floor where she had left it, the blue glow of the crystals within the open hatchway a welcome respite for her eyes in the yellow glare. She moved over to it, feeling light and slightly vulnerable without the familiar weight of her chainmail, the girl jogging where she stood a moment, a nervous energy running through her as her heartbeat began to quicken.

_Ready… ready… NOW!_

The spark left her fingers almost unconsciously, the girl opening her eyes to see the door to her left slide back, the golem still stood behind it seeing her to unleash an inhuman roar and suddenly she was tearing down corridors willing herself ever faster, the metal floor trembling under her feet as the construct pounded tirelessly after her.

**…**

Aerie nodded to Jaheira, the woman returning the gesture before retreating back into the darkness with the others. They had been fortunate the second of the specimen rooms was empty; the plan required timing and precision and even discounting the fact Aerie was less confident of her abilities over a wider area, having everyone crammed into the adjoining room was a sure recipe for disaster –the fewer people involved in this, the better.

Of course, it had taken a lot for Aerie to convince Minsc that she would be fine alone, the ranger reluctant to leave her side again so soon after losing her, though he had agreed in the end.

Aerie walked into the adjoining room and over to the sealed door she had only just leapt through, the idea it would soon be opened again stirring an unpleasant fear within her, though she quelled it fiercely, moving backwards into the corner to find her centre and wait for her signal.

And there it was in the distance and growing ever louder, breathless and shrill.

'Aerieeeee! Now, Aerie, now!'

The elf straightened, hands already moving in the complex patterns as she began to intone the concealment spell. Fritha appeared in the doorway opposite an instant later, crossing the doorsill with a leap that took her practically across the chamber, the golem thundering into the room behind her as she slammed a hand against the control panel. The door slid back, the roar from the chamber beyond indicating this had not gone unnoticed.

'WHAT! LAVOK'S SERVANTS FINALLY DARE TO FACE ME?'

The golem roared, ignoring Aerie, no halt to its pursuit as it charged at Fritha, the girl pressed back against the door frame when Aerie's spell finally released and the pair suddenly vanished. The golem redirected its ire instantly, charging through the hatchway to face the beholder who was bearing down upon the open door, Fritha suddenly reappearing as she slammed a hand against the panel and the door swept shut on them both. The girl staggered back, turning to slide down the wall and sit on the floor, the roars and curses that echoed from the other room punctuated by the occasional explosion of magic and nearly drowning her out as Aerie reappeared as well to venture, 'Are you all right?'

Fritha just nodded, still trying to catch her breath, the elf's words echoed by Cernd as the druid stepped into the chamber, the others at his back.

'Are you both unharmed?'

'Yes, we're fine, Fritha's just a little short of breath.'

'I'm getting to old for this,' Fritha puffed, leaning her head against the curved doorframe next to her and instantly removing it as the tremor of a magic blast shook the entire door, the golem's roar resonating about the chamber. Valygar sighed and sank down to sit on the floor opposite.

'And now we wait.'

xxx

It was a good half and hour later when the roars and blasts on the other side of the door finally faded and died, the group sharing a look in the silence that followed before Fritha decided they could risk a peek. Everyone moved back as she reached up to the door controls, the metal sliding aside to reveal the rocky chamber, still intact thought bearing the charred scars of the struggle. The beholder was laid dead in a bloody pool, a few of its eye stalks strewn about it where they had been torn off while the golem lay next to it, metal limbs twitching fitfully as they passed, though it could do little more and Fritha doubted even Lavok would have been able to repair it.

The great silver hatchway was before them now, thick and solid looking with no control panel to be found, though it seemed they did not need one. Valygar, either from his work on the diary or just plain instinct stepped forward to lay his wounded hand upon the cold metal and the two panels slid silently apart.

The room beyond was dimly lit, even more so once the hatchway closed behind them, the group finding themselves on a set of wide metal steps which led down into a large circular chamber, various hatchways leading from it while in the centre another curved set of metal stairs coiled about a raised control platform. An arrangement of huge glass pipes of glowing blue liquid ran from floor to ceiling behind it, the source of illumination for the rest of the chamber, while on the opposite wall another of the living maps hung. It was showing the same infernal scene as the one in the entrance chamber only four times the size, the vast plains and the edge of some demonic city rippling upon its surface.

'So it is _you_,' a voice rasped and Fritha started back to the control panel, a dark shape suddenly coalescing upon it to form a stooped wizened old man, his robe as black and tatty as the hair that hung in a limp crest around his balding head. He was so old he looked already dead, dark skin like leather and stretched over his skull, the only life to his face: the hatred that burned in his fiery orange eyes.

'_You_ are the ones who have caused the sphere to travel again. You _fools!_ I was so close to escaping and you shall suffer for it!'

The stairs they were on suddenly exploded as the spell released from his hands, everyone diving from its path, Valygar already charging across the chamber, taking the curved stairs two at a time, his sword aloft as he roared.

'DEATH COMES FOR YOU, NECROMANCER!'

Lavok's face twisted with a smile, the ranger's blade passing harmlessly through his form as though for that instant he was no more than smoke, the mage taking just a moment to enjoy Valygar's look of horrified surprised before he swept an arm up, the man sent flying from the platform to land in amongst his companions on the hard metal flooring.

Another blast of magic, this time centred on the sprawled form of the ranger, , Aerie dashing to the Valygar's side to call up a shield of her own, Jaheira, Cernd and Minsc all throwing themselves to the floor to escape the reflected energies, while Anomen pulled Fritha under his shield, the girl less concerned about intimate proximity when it was saving her life.

Lavok frowned, spitting a harsh guttural word in his anger, a mere curse of frustration, or so Fritha had thought until the metal floor around them began to buckle and split, the group struggling to their feet as a host of skeletons rose up from the glowing fissures, already armed and closing in about them, the floor from which they had sprouted unmarked once more.

They were surrounded, slowly being backed together into the corner of the stairs as they fought against the overwhelming numbers, Minsc taking one down with a great sweep of his sword, Anomen holding back their advance with shield and holy symbol both, while Aerie stood behind them all, gathering one last spell.

Lavok was laughing manically, his arms aloft as the powers gather between them, Aerie's spell doing nothing as it was deflected around his glittering yellow shield -but it had not been for him that she was aiming. His laughter ended abruptly as the blast impacted on glass pipes behind him, a long crack suddenly running up the farthest one, not liquid as Fritha had first thought, but a bright blue gas seeping through the fracture, hanging innocuously in the air a moment before it caught on the energies still gathering between his outstretched hands and ignited in a blast that floored them all, the shield of skeletons likely the only thing that had saved them, the undead evaporated in the explosion.

Fritha struggled to her feet. Lavok was at the bottom of the stairs now, a groaning heap of tattered robes and fragments of bone, Valygar suddenly stood over him, a katana poised above his chest.

'Look upon me, _necromancer_, and know your death frees my family!'

But it was not the creature who had fought them that stared up at him. He was still crumpled and old, but there was a frailty to him now, his eyes a watery grey as he cast about him wildly.

'Where am I? I am still in the sphere?' He sighed, finally relaxing back as he confirmed this for himself. 'Oh, thank you, thank you,' he rasped, and Fritha was given the impression this gratitude not for them but for multiverse at large, the mage opening his eyes to regard the man still above him. 'And my thanks to you, strangers, I have been a prisoner in my own mind for longer than I can remember.'

'What do you speak of?' demanded Valygar, looking highly disturbed at finding his family's nemesis so frail and peaceable, 'Answer me!'

Lavok sighed, wincing slightly as he shifted, hardly seeming to notice the sword that was being held to his chest as he explained regretfully, 'I was possessed, have been for ah, probably over a century now. I was in the plane of shadow in my quest for ever more interesting specimens, but one escaped and then _I_ was the prisoner –a fitting torment for one who held so many others captive. It desired release, though not back upon its indigenous plane but the Prime.' Lavok closed his eyes, 'The power it would have held there had it my body and powers at its disposal would have decimated our plane –I could not allow it. I fought him in my mind, struggled with him for decades to thwart his efforts to pry the secrets of the sphere from me and now release…'

He sighed again, and deeply and Fritha feared he had passed on right before their eyes. Valygar was looking a strange combination of astounded and angry, the vengeance of this much sort meeting rather lost now he had discovered his adversary had spent the last hundred years in a noble struggle against the Prime's destruction.

'Can it be? _This_ is _Lavok_? The necromancer who terrorised my family for _centuries?_'

The mage's eyes snapped open, seeming for the first time to notice the furious man stood over him.

'You know of me? Has word of my foul existence lasted even to this day?'

'Not quite, but some made it their duty to remember. I am the last of House Corthala, Lavok, and our vow ends when you do.'

'House Corthala …' he repeated, an absent look crossing his wizened face as though he was trying to remember a dream he had had long ago, 'You are of my family? Yes, I remember now. Yes,' he continued, the ghost of a smile creeping in as he gazed about them all, 'I am everything he has told you and worse. I was the scourge of the living before I left your plane. I terrorised my own blood and tampered with the laws of life and death. Evil and arrogant I was.' He sighed, tired and regretful. 'I have had an age or more to consider my sins. If I could call it all back… if I could call back my brother and my son… my grandchildren… If I could go back and convince the man I was that this sphere was a mission of pride doomed to failure… But I cannot change what has been,' he rasped firmly, 'I can only move forward now. I can feel my last breaths coming upon me, but I have some time yet and with it I will help you.'

Valygar was unmoved. 'And why would you do this?'

The mage looked as though he would of shrugged had he the strength for the gesture. 'Perhaps because I feel after such torment I owe you, my only family. Perhaps because I would like my final act to be one of redemption- or perhaps merely because I can. My only request is that when we return to the Prime you take me with you and let me look upon it one last time; I was once born under than sky and I would die under it too.'

'Agreed,' said Fritha emphatically, 'because we _really_ need to get back to the Prime Material.'

'Yes,' said Lavok, struggling to straighten, Jaheira crouching to help him, 'we plane shifted shortly after you entered, did we not? There is a failsafe built into the sphere: once the last of the energy is drained, the sphere automatically shifts to a plane where we can replenish the power source. '

'But what powers the sphere?' asked Aerie. Lavok looked grave.

'A great evil, elf-child, it is powered by hearts.'

'Hearts?' she exclaimed, the mage lifting a trembling arm to point to the huge map behind them.

'Out there, is the Nine Hells - the first layer, Avernus, by its look. You must fetch a heart from there. One should be enough for what we will need.'

'From out there? From a _devil_?' cried Fritha, the horror to her tone reflected in every face in that room. Lavok's head trembled with a weak nod.

'Yes, though not an imp or erinyes, it must be one of the greater devils -a cornugon or pit fiend.'

Fritha dropped her head into a hand. 'Oh _gods_…'

'Do not be distressed, child,' the mage rasped in what could have almost been a laugh, 'I acquired a wand long ago that will help you in your task. It is old and has been used many times but there should still be just enough power left within it. It is through there in my workshop along with other treasures; take whatever you wish, I will need them no longer.'

Fritha nodded, making to rise. 'Thank you.'

She followed his hand to the hatchway behind them, moving down the short corridor to reach a small round chamber, deep benches almost lining the walls, a few shelves above each and crammed with a chaos of jars and books, a large tank of luminescent green liquid containing a half finished golem bubbling gently. The tables themselves were strewn with everything from ingots of adamantine and precious gems to scraps of wood and lead, a jumble of wands both whole and half finished scattered across them.

Fritha was beginning to realise she should have asked Lavok for some description of the wand he meant, when her eyes felt upon it and suddenly she knew, a long slender baton of flawless white that looked similar to marble though it was far too light to be so, Fritha suffused with a pleasant warmth as soon as her fingers brushed against it, the girl fastening it carefully to her belt before turning her attention back to the tables.

The unfinished wands were of little use to her, as were the books –most written in languages she could not even recognise let alone read, and she could not tell whether each was a priceless account of some rare experiment into the arcane or the worthless ramblings of some outer-planar apprentice. The few finished wands would fetch in a good price though and the gemstones and precious metals would be easy to sell on, and the girl was still trying make room for it all, sorting through her bag to make sure the more fragile items were cushioned, when a noise outside startled her.

'Hello?'

'Fritha?' came the familiar voice with that still unfamiliar title; it was Anomen.

'I'm in here,' she called back, glancing up in time to see him step over the doorsill and greet her with a smile. Fritha stared back up at him for a moment before she shook her head and just went back to her bag.

Anomen watched her, her coolness doing nothing to shake the bolstered feeling their situation had stirred in him. There was something about being closer to danger that always made him feel stronger, as though he was unconsciously reminded of other similar occasions when he had faced such troubles and fought to survive them. The girl beneath him sighed as she fought to repack her bag, heaving out a stack of books and trying to find room for them again one by one.

'Fritha, I wanted to talk to you about earlier.'

She glanced up for an instant before she was once more hunched over her bag. 'Earlier when we were arguing about my plan or earlier when we were arguing about my play?'

'Your play,' he answered shortly.

The girl sighed, straightening to sit back on her haunches.

'Well, then I owe you an apology. I was in a strop with Higgold and that damn playhouse -though I shouldn't have let it colour my temper.'

Anomen smiled, her repentance quite unexpected.

'It is quite all right, I more than understand. I am hardly the embodiment of temperance myself… Though it may sound strange, I find it pleasant that we are comfortable enough in each other's company that we can quarrel so and know it will not cause any lasting offence.'

'It is certainly _useful_…' Fritha agreed, the edge to her voice perhaps indicating that it was a good job considering the amount they _did_ argue. Anomen remained undeterred though.

'To know that whichever petty quarrels may divide us, we still share a deeper understanding that will always bind us together…'

Fritha groaned, her face momentarily obscured as she lightly tapped her forehead with the book in her hand. 'Oh, we are _not_ having this conversation now, Anomen.'

Anomen risked a smile. 'Well, it seems trapping you on some infernal plane is the only way I can _get_ you to speak of it.'

'And _what_ is there left to talk about?' The girl sighed, rising stiffly to send him a tired look, 'Anomen, it's not merely the fact that everyone seems to want me dead at the moment; I just don't think we'd be very well suited. You're a priest and a knight and the son of a lord -and _what_ is so funny?' she demanded crossly as the knight began to laugh, Anomen sending her a fond smile.

'You truly _are_ having to work at finding excuses if you think I will believe you care for any of that.'

'Fine then!' she snapped, more than ready with a few others, 'Because you're short-tempered and disagreeable and-'

'I am well aware of my faults, Fritha, though none of them have yet offended you enough to prevent you from being my friend.' He sighed, his look suddenly earnest, 'I am not asking you to marry me, just to consider that we might become so much more to each other than we are.'

'And I am saying _no!_' she shouted, striking the book she still held, unfortunately her journal, against the bench next to her, the cover flying open to scatter papers everywhere. Fritha immediately dropped to a crouch to gather up the jumble of bounty notices, letters and scraps of poems, Anomen kneeling slowly as his eyes caught on a bright blot of red in amongst the yellowing parchment and Fritha avoided his gaze as he straightened to hand back to her the small dried rhodelia.

'You kept it.'

'Of course,' she confirmed with an airiness she certainly did not feel, placing it back between the pages of her journal to close it with a sharp snap, 'it is not often I am given flowers.'

Anomen frowned, clearly listening to what she had _not_ said to confirm, 'So this was not the first occasion you have received one.'

Fritha snorted, a slight bitterness creeping in. 'No, another beat you to that _honour_.'

'And what happened to that one?'

She stared up at him, suddenly grave. 'It died, Anomen. Why did you give me this?'

His answer was prompt. 'I saw it as a symbol of the affection that I feel burgeoning in my heart.'

Fritha smiled sweetly. 'That it _also_ grew in such inhospitable climes?'

But Anomen just laughed. '_Oho_, your tongue is sharper than any blade: a rapier's sting in every word. And I would _gladly_ show you the fires of my heart, Fritha, you need only ask.'

Fritha turned away abruptly, flushed and sullen, any mention of fires, _whichever_ part of his body he was pertaining them to, was a blow distinctly below the belt in her opinion.

'Fritha, are you ready?' called Jaheira, the druid in the doorway a moment later to add more quietly, 'I'm not sure Lavok will last much longer.'

'Yes, I'm coming now,' she answered, stalking past Anomen and catching up large glass jar from one of the benches as she went.

Back in the control room, Aerie was still knelt over the necromancer, her cloak folded under his head as she worked to ease him, the others stood about them and all turning to Fritha as she entered.

'Okay, Aerie stay with Lavok -Jaheira stay with her ' she added in an undertone to the woman at her side; whatever regrets Lavok may have now, he had clearly been a force for great evil at one point. 'Everyone else, make preparations because we're going outside.'

xxx

The blistering heat hit them as soon as the door slid back, a charred black landscape of rocky plains laid out before them shimmering in the haze and steam that rose from the deep crevices that zigzagged across the ground, the scorched land broken up by narrow rivers of what looked disturbingly like blood, slow flowing and viscous. The sphere had materialised in what appeared to be the foothills of a small mountain range, a slope of black scree dropping steeply down from the open hatchway.

Fritha stepped out on the unstable surface, finding it more solid that she would have expected, the heat of the rocks already warming through the soles of her boots. It hardly registered though, her chest suddenly tight as her head swam and throbbed, the men looking little better as they followed her.

'And I thought that prison was bad,' she groaned half-heartedly, 'I feel terrible.'

Anomen nodded, pale as he groped for the holy symbol at his neck, Valygar shaking his head as though he was having trouble focusing, while Minsc was leaning heavily against the outside of the sphere. But by far, the druid looked the worst of them, Cernd gripping his staff tightly, eyes closed as he muttered under his breath.

'You all right there, Cernd?' asked Fritha. She had heard that enough stress could bring about a transformation in lycanthropes whether the moon was full or not –or indeed, non-existent, she considered with a glance to the milky red sky.

'I- it feels-' he faltered. The hand about his staff was trembling.

'Cernd?'

'_Don't!_' he snarled, Fritha snatching her hand back from where she had been reaching tentatively towards his shoulder.

'Right, back in the sphere, Cernd,' she ordered flatly. 'It all works out, because we needed someone to stay here and guard the door anyway. I was going to ask you, Minsc, since you can shout the loudest-' The ranger drew himself up proudly, '-But, I'm sure Cernd will serve just as well. If you see anything coming then give us a yell, hold it off if you think you can and, if it comes to it, then just retreat inside and shut the door, because we can't risk losing the sphere.'

The druid nodded, his eyes still closed though there was a definite air of relief to him now as he leaned against the doorframe. 'Do not worry, I will do as you ask.'

Fritha slapped his arm in farewell, drawing her sword as she started down the slope, the wand and jar both fastened at her belt for now. The blasted plains around them were devoid of life, but they had visited the map room before they had left and there was a small grouping of creatures surrounding something much larger gathered to the north east of them. And _that_ was where they had decided to head, the group keeping to the shadow of the great bronze globe as they made their way. Fritha glanced to the man next to her. Valygar was blinking past the stinging sweat as he cast about them warily, the steam that was venting up through the narrow fissure that ran along side them both a help and a hindrance, providing cover for their passage –_and_ for anything that may have been stalking _them_ too.

'There,' he said finally bringing them to a halt, the ranger leaping the crack to crouch behind a cluster stalagmites, Fritha following him to peer between them and through the haze she could see the huge fiend they had been hunting but a score or so yards away. It stood at least nine feet tall, a pair of black horns adding another foot to its height, its well muscled body covered in bright scarlet scales, a pair of leathery wings as long as it was arcing from its powerful shoulders. It appeared to be occupied at least, amusing itself by tormenting the half dozen or so imps that were flapping around it, the fiend using its powers to dominate their wills and draw them closer only to lash out with the cruel whip it held grasped in its clawed hands, its thick tail sweeping back and forth in its amusement.

'It is a cornugon, I think,' came Anomen quietly behind her, he and Minsc having made the short dash to join them. 'Though I have only read descriptions of them before now.'

Fritha glanced about them all. 'Ideas anyone?'

'We strike quickly,' offered Valygar, his gaze still fixed on the fiend, 'Mages often use imps as familiars. They are cunning enough creatures but known for their cowardice, they will not stay to fight us if they can help it.'

Fritha nodded, sheathing her sword and unfastening the long slender wand from her belt, the warmth of it in her fingers comforting in that bleak place.

'Okay, put all your focus on the cornugon and do your best to keep it busy while I use the wand; Lavok said it should have enough power left but we all remember what happened in the beholder warrens, so be prepared for a fight. Ready, now!'

They sprang up, roars filling the air about her as the men charged into them, the imps scattering as Valygar had predicted while the fiend whirled about, a delighted smile curling back its lips to reveal a mouthful of sharp teeth as it was presented with this new diversion.

Its muscular arms were already drawn back, the huge whip snaking through the air with thunderous _crack_ to strike out at Anomen, the knight catching the barbed tip on his shield though the force of the blow still sent him to his knees. The fiend raised the whip to finish him and Fritha drew the wand back in a mirror of its movement, the slender rod quivering in her grasp, the power swelling as she hurling it out towards the creature.

The effect was instantaneous, a column of white fire dropping from the sky above them to explode about the fiend in an impact that floored the men around it, the creature swaying almost comically in the black dust that clouded the air before keeling over backwards, dead before it hit the ground. Fritha glanced down to the wand still clutched in her trembling hand. The lustre seemed to have left its flawless surface now, the warmth it had suffused her with gone; it was dead. She shook herself, casting it aside and suddenly she was racing over the rocky ground to join them.

'Bloody hells! Are you all right?'

'Yes,' coughed Minsc, heaving himself upright, Valygar already on his feet, though just barely, the ranger reaching down a hand to help a dazed Anomen do the same.

'Right, you lot take up defensive positions,' Fritha ordered, moving to crouch over the charred body, setting the jar next to her to draw out the long dagger she had placed in her boot for that very purpose, the girl deftly rolling back her sleeves before making the first deep incision along the torso. Steam rose from the wound, Fritha moving to force it wider though she snatched her hands back with a curse.

'Fritha?' came Anomen quickly.

'Nothing, it just scalding hot,' she muttered, already pulling on her old leather gauntlets. 'The rib cage looks far too thick to break, I'll have to go in from underneath.'

'How ever you do it, do it _soon_,' growled Valygar, 'our presence here is beginning to attract attention.'

He was right too, the imps that had fled during the fight regrouping somewhat, hovering in twos and threes about them, though none ventured closer, clearly deciding that anyone who had destroyed a master of their race needed to be approached with caution, if at all. Back at the body, Fritha was working quickly, her arm already in to the elbow as she reached further up through the chest cavity, the girl singing blithely to herself, her song punctuated with the occasional curse as she caught her arm on the devil's scalding innards.

'_Her hair was dark,_ _her skin __was__ -_damn!_ – her eyes were bright and _-ah! -_and only once she smiled at me and stole my heart away.'_

One last thrust, her face almost touching the bloody ribcage as the stretched up inside it, the girl's stifled cry reaching a shrill crescendo, her arm burning, when she jerked once, finally straightening, her small scarlet hand clutched about her dagger and an enormous black heart, the thick veins still pulsing grotesquely.

'There,' sighed Fritha proudly, dropping it into the open jar at her side and wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her arm, smearing it with blood, 'By, it's warm.'

'Come,' said Minsc ,stooping for the jar and helping the girl to stand, 'Boo says, we must hurry.'

They set off back to the sphere at furious pace, the imps scattering before them again and making no attempt to halt their passage though no one seemed to feel at ease until the impenetrable hatchway of the sphere was firmly shut behind them, Cernd welcoming them back gladly, the man much recovered, Jaheira already awaiting their return in the entrance chamber.

'Ah, you are back- Fritha!'

'What?' the girl exclaimed at her cry, a glance down to her bloodied tunic clarifying it for her. 'Oh, yes; don't fret, Jaheira, none of it's mine.'

The woman snorted, clearly thinking her concern was wasted and turning instantly to Minsc. 'You have the heart? Good, Lavok says it needs to be taken down to the engine room –here, hand it over, Cernd and I know the way.'

And the two were off, Fritha and the others following them part of the way back to the control room before their paths parted.

**…**

Fritha sighed, leaning over the bucket of saltwater Minsc had kindly collected from a room Valygar had shown him to, the girl sat next to the Rashemi on the bottom step washing the worst of the blood from her arms and face. Aerie had moved in their absence and now was stood at the top of the platform at the large bank of controls, Lavok propped up on the cluster of pipes and rasping instructions to her, Valygar stood watching the pair, his face unreadable under his frown, while Anomen was pretending to be engrossed in the necromancer's moving map.

Fritha hissed as she scooped another handful of water up over her arm, the salt stinging where the skin had been burnt, her washing revealing the shiny red patches dotted here and there. Anomen glanced back at her gasp, but returned directly to distracting himself with the map and Fritha did not blame him –she was hardly making any of this easy.

Next to her, Minsc sent her a lopsided smile which she returned weakly, the man reaching out a large hand to gently ruffled her hair, both whirling back at the sound of the door, Jaheira and Cernd clattering down the steps.

'It is done,' the woman announced, 'the heart was fed into your machine.'

'_Literally_,' added Cernd under his breath with a glance to her; Fritha pulled a face.

'Good, good,' gasped Lavok, straightening slightly as he pointed to the controls above him, 'now do as I told you, elf-child: pull back the farthest lever.' The unbroken glass cylinders behind them began to glow more fiercely. 'Yes, yes,' the mage rasped, 'now you've already re-entered the position of where you came from, so just unlock the release lever and compress the red switch.'

'Okay,' came Aerie, her hands flitting over the controls before her, 'everyone brace yourselves.'

Jaheira and Cernd both sat, their backs pressed against the wall, Anomen, Fritha and Minsc moving to follow their example, Fritha just keen to get away from the bucket; she had visions of it ending upon on her head. Valygar had sat directly onto the steps where he had been stood, wrapping an arm about the railing at his side as Aerie took a firm hold of the panel below her, her hand descending upon the glowing red switch.

The room was engulfed in bright blue light, just as blinding as any darkness, as the room tremoured and shook. And then it stopped, the lights fading and everyone whirled instantly to the map behind them, triumphant shouts and laughter pealing out to fill the chamber as they gazed up at the familiar image of the slums, a warm golden hue in the pale dawn light. Lavok was laid upon his side, a wistful smile upon his twisted face as he watched the map, his breathing ragged and shallow.

'Just a little longer,' murmured Aerie at his ear, Valygar surprising everyone as he rose and wordlessly lifted the mage into his arms, starting down the steps to head for the door.

The entrance chamber was crowded with everyone inside it but even then they all pressed back to give the ranger room, Valygar stooping to lay Lavok before the hatchway, Fritha leaning across to activate the control panel and the chamber was filled with a rush of fresh cold air, the whole of Athkatla suddenly stretching out before them, the city all golden peace in the cool dawn still.

The night's rains had departed to leave the sky clear, a mellow strata of pinks and ambers above the narrow arc of early morning sun. Lavok drew a shaky breath, his voice barely a whisper, the relieved sigh of a man who after a lifetime of struggles, for good or ill, had finally reached the end.

'The sky… so many colours… I had forgotten, I had…'

The necromancer trailed off and silence held the group as Valygar stared down at his motionless body.

'He is dead. Lavok is finally dead. My family's vow has been fulfilled and yet… I had no idea it would be like this.'

'Revenge,' sighed Jaheira, sounded rather bitter, 'the longer it is sought, the less fulfilment it brings; it is an empty triumph.'

The ranger just shrugged. 'But it is done now, at least. What will become of this sphere?'

'Lavok had me program it whilst you were out fetching the heart,' offered Aerie, 'It will plane shift once the hatchway is closed again. He did not say where it would go, only that it would be somewhere that none could abuse its power again.'

'And Lavok?' asked Cernd quietly. Valygar stooped to move the body further into the entrance chamber, removing his own brown wayworn cloak to lay it respectfully over him.

'This sphere can be his tomb, it is fitting, I think.'

Fritha nodded as the man straightened, turning back to the open hatchway, Aerie moving to stand next to her.

'Well, I for one can't wait to get my feet back on the Prime.'

'You climbed up here?' the elf confirmed, eyes taking in the crumbling roof below them with a frown. 'It looks a little unstable.'

An understatement if ever there was one. Half the timbers nearest the sphere had collapsed completely, the remaining ones hanging limply into the gloom of the dusty warehouse beneath, gaping holes dotted over the rest of the roof, the rotting roof beams visible where the tiles had been lost.

'Hmm,' murmured Fritha contemplatively, 'I must say, I was a lot surer of it when it was dark. I think more may have collapsed in our absence. Oh well, one at a time, I suppose,' she sighed, crouching down to sit in the open hatchway before dropping lightly off to land on the roof timbers below, the boards creaking threatening as Fritha bounced on the balls of her feet. 'Actually, it doesn't feel too bad, Aerie, just-'

'Not so fast, girl!'

Fritha whirled at the voice, Tolgerias, his apprentice, Madeen, and two others, a man and a woman, stepping from the shadow of the sphere that loomed over them all, the unconcerned way they crossed the half collapsed roof giving Fritha the distinct impression that some sort of levitation charm was in play.

'You _betrayed_ me,' Tolgerias accused coldly, his face white in his outrage, though by this point, Fritha was too tired and frazzled to even care.

'_Really?_' she sneered, 'What gave it away -was it the hundred foot tall sphere appearing in the middle of the slums?'

'I have known of your treachery since Valygar set foot back in the city,' he spat contemptuously. 'Murdered your mentor did he? Indeed, at least I shall now have the pleasure of making _that_ a reality.'

'You told him I was your mentor?' asked Jaheira, dropping from hatch to land lightly next to her. Fritha shrugged.

'Well, you kind of are and it made for a better story.'

Jaheira looked rather touched. Tolgerias, on the other hand, merely looked angry.

'Fools! Did you think you could betray me and live?'

'As if _you're_ any better!' shouted Fritha, 'You had no intention of helping me retrieve Imoen, did you?'

The mage enjoyed a derisive smile. 'Since you are about to be killed, I am glad to inform you I did _not_. She will rot in Spellhold until the day she dies.'

'You wretch!'

'Fritha!'

And Anomen watched helpless from the hatchway as she lunged for Tolgerias, the man hurriedly bringing his hands up to release a barrage of fiery scarlet spheres that she only just managed to dodge, wooden tiles sent clattering off the rooftop by her scrabbling feet as she fought to regain her footing.

Madeen and the female mage were retreating back to the farthest end of the roof, their other companion stepping forward to join the fray, a tall man who was not dressed in the customary robes, favouring instead a simple tunic and leather breastplate, an iridescent blue scimitar in hand. He was squaring up to Jaheira, leaving his two companions free to concentrate on their casting, though it seemed Valygar had other ideas.

'Cowled filth!' he roared, pushing past Anomen to drop onto the failing rooftop with a grace that belied his size, showing no fear of it collapsing or perhaps his desire to see the mages who had hunted for so long dead outweighed his concerns. Cernd hesitated a moment before following him, the druid much more cautious and slightly less controlled in his landing, hurriedly staggering forward as the timbers beneath him creaked and cracked, more falling away into the warehouse below. Anomen immediately reconsidered following the pair, he and Minsc trapped by their own sheer weight, Minsc struggling to ready Nalia's old bow, while Aerie stood behind him wringing her sleeves, clearly concerned that using her magic would only call more wizards down upon them.

At the far end of the roof, the female mage had her eyes closed, clearly working on some complex magics, the boy Madeen protectively stood before her, his face screwed up and bright pink as was worked furiously on a spell of his own, his movements becoming more frantic as Jaheira closed upon him. She was there now, her staff drawn back ready, when, at the last moment, he abandoned his casting with a wail, the young apprentice leaping off the end of the roof on to the crates Anomen knew were below, his companion screaming insults after him even as she threw up a shimmering blue shield and engaged Jaheira herself.

Closer to the sphere, Valygar was already in a fierce battle with the armoured wizard, the mage wielding both blade and spell with an alarming speed, Valygar being kept constantly on the defensive as Cernd moved carefully over the groaning timbers to join him.

In the centre of the roof, Tolgerias was still in pursuit of Fritha, his next spell blowing a hole in the tiles where she had just been, the girl scrambling to get out the path of his next and disappearing over the apex of the roof. Perhaps she had hoped the mage would be tempted into following her, but he did not, whirling instantly to throw a blast of energy into the crowded hatchway.

Aerie threw her hands up with a shriek, instinctively countering with a spell of her own and Anomen could feel the crackle of energy in the air as the two spells collided over the roof in an explosion of burning sparks. Everyone ducked for cover, Cernd loosing his footing on the uneven rooftop to slide down the steep slope, his staff plummeting to the ground with a hail of tiles as he just caught the edge, a foot wedged awkwardly in the guttering and fingers splayed as he fought to claw his way back on to the roof.

'Cernd!' cried Aerie, powerless to help him.

At least Valygar was doing slightly better, a scarlet circle of blood blossoming from his opponent's shoulder, the mage keeping him at bay with bursts of green flame as he adjusted the blade in his other hand.

Another blast of magic into the hatchway, Anomen throwing his shield across their trio. Minsc finally had the bow strung, the arrow streaking past Anomen's ear as the ranger aimed for Tolgerias, the mage taking it out of the sky with but a contemptuous flick of his hand. He was left no chance to follow up on this though, Fritha suddenly behind him once more to make another vain sweep at him with her sword, the blade rebounding predictably off his glowing shield though she seemed to find this preferable to retreating only to have his attentions turn on the rest of them.

But for all that, she was not faring well, the girl narrowly dodging a striking lance of flame, just managing to duck under it with only a few singed curls though she hardly had time to regain her balance as Tolgerias followed it with another barrage of glowing spheres. Fritha leaned back, her feet slipping from under her and suddenly she was sprawled at his feet, her sword skating away down the tiles while the mage stood on the roof's apex looming above her.

Anomen felt his mace leave his hand without a thought, watching it arc through the air to bounce off Tolgerias's shield, the mage whirling in time to face Aerie's spell as the blast of energy engulfed him only to by deflected by Tolgerias's own hastily summoned spell. This snatched escape had unforeseen consequences though, the energies radiating outwards. Jaheira threw herself to the tiles though her mage opponent was not so agile. The blast unbalanced her, her shimmering blue shield flickering as her casting was disrupted and Jaheira saw her chance, taking the woman's feet out from under her with a sweep of her staff, the druid raising herself onto her knees, the mage now helpless beneath her. A jab to her skull with the butt of her stave and the woman was dead upon the tiles.

Suddenly, Tolgerias and his last remaining ally were stepping lightly over the tiles no longer, both mages struggling to find their feet as they dropped that vital half an inch onto the uneven tiles and Valygar saw his opening, cutting the mage before him down with a sweep that carved his leather breastplate in two, the ranger leaving him dying as he rushed to help Cernd.

Tolgerias was still stood on the apex of the roof, his arms aloft and look wild, the air about him crackling violently as he summoned his magics for one last vengeful attack upon the sphere that had been his downfall, the spell on the point of release when Fritha regained her feet to charge up the roof and tackle the mage about the middle. The pair hit the other side of the roof with force enough to shatter the already weakened structure, the tortured groan of splitting wood deafening as the timbers under them suddenly gave way and they were gone.

'Fritha!' Aerie screamed behind him, the shrill noise seeming loud enough to have split his head if Anomen had not felt so sundered already, Jaheira tearing up the rooftop to drop carefully to her knees at the hole and search the darkness below. And then there it was: Fritha's voice hoarse but audible in the charged silence that followed.

'I-I am all right… Tolgerias isn't though –he broke my fall.'

**…**

'Oh, Fritha,' Aerie scolded tremulously, the elf pressing back to give her more room as everyone bar Valygar gathered about the rotting warehouse doors, Minsc pulling one back for Fritha to limp from the gloom, looking dazed and grazed and very bedraggled. Her tunic, already covered in dried fiend blood was now ripped in several places, dust and splintered wood clinging to her clothes, the smell of burnt hair lingering about her. But for all that she was smiling, nodding her thanks to the elf as she handed over her sword.

'Gods, Fritha, what were you thinking?'

'Thinking,' Fritha repeated with an indifferent wave of her hand, 'Feh! I don't like to do _that_ at the best of times.'

Jaheira shook her head, smiling grimly as though she could not quite decide whether she wanted to embrace the girl or throttle her. 'Just try to remember in future, Fritha, it is only the Harpers who want you _alive_.'

Fritha gave a laugh that was soon lost to coughing; the enthusiastic pat on the back from Minsc nearly flooring her in her dazed state, the small group leaving the shadow of the warehouse to stand and watch the scene above them. Valygar was leaning from the hatchway as he activate the panel within, jumping lightly down to the roof below as the door slid shut, the man running quickly to the end of the roof before turning back and they watched together as the sphere slowly faded from the sky.

'Well, another jaunt from the Prime is over,' Fritha sighed, Valygar back with them once again as the group turned to begin the slow walk back to the slums, 'You know, I'm getting rather fond of the planes.'

'Yes, and we always visit such pleasant places,' agreed Jaheira dryly.

'Quite so, but I think it's the people that really make the trips for me.'

'So, what do you plan for yourself now, Valygar?' asked Aerie, trying not to smile as she brought a semblance of seriousness back to the discussion, the ranger giving the elf and her question a contemplative frown.

'If Tolgerias knows we're in the city then the rest of the Cowled Wizards will likely be aware of it as well –especially after _that_ battle. I will leave the city immediately, collect my tent from the forest's edge where we concealed it and return to hiding. And you should consider the same,' he added, turning to send the elf a grim frown, 'you are all as I now. You have taken the lives of their own and the Cowled Wizards do not look kindly on such actions.'

'But it was self-defence!' cried Aerie. Valygar snorted.

'A plea that has worked so _very_ well for me so far -you will all need to be on guard from now on.'

Fritha sighed; like they hadn't been already. Beside, Tolgerias was dead -it seemed a bit late to be worrying about such now. 'Well,' she reasoned dully, 'they don't know for sure it was us and…'

The dismissal died on her lips as they rounded the corner of a large dilapidated warehouse and there they were at the next junction, stood in neat formation across the path, Madeen looking rather cowed as he lingered behind the five-strong group of robed figures.

'Oh _bastard, bastard, bastard!_' Fritha hissed through gritted teeth, drawing a deep breath to fix a sunny smile to her face as they drew closer. 'Morning,' she greeted cheerily as though she had just met a neighbour out on an early stroll. The tall robed woman at their centre stepped forward, her face just beginning to line at the mouth and eyes, dark hair streaked with grey.

'Good morning, Fritha, I am Archmage Odella. I understand you were working with Tolgerias on his investigations in to the ancient necromancer, Lavok.'

'_Yes…_' Fritha answered slowly, all the while glowering at Madeen, the gangly lad trying to shrink below the considerably shorter mage he was stood behind. 'In that we were hired to discover the whereabouts of the last surviving member of his family, Valygar Corthala.'

Odella seemed to take Fritha's evasiveness in her stride though, offering bluntly, 'I am aware of Tolgerias's actions, your hunt and your subsequent betrayal, Fritha, and I am here to inform you that Tolgerias acted alone without our knowledge or consent in all matters.'

'So, you are telling us you knew _nothing_ of this?' demanded Valygar. The archmage sent him a quelling glare.

'That is _exactly_ what I am telling you. The Cowled Wizards are devoted to the safety of this city and Amn as a whole and would never partake in any course which would put our citizens in jeopardy. The fact that Tolgerias and his associates _did_ means he set himself apart from our number and, as such, we will be seeking no retribution for their deaths –any of the deaths,' she added, with a pointed look to Valygar. 'As far as we are concerned, this matter is at an end.'

'Wait!' Fritha shouted as they turned to leave, 'This matter is _not_ at an end! I would not even be here were it not for the fact you've imprisoned my friend! Where is Spellhold? Where is Imoen?' she cried, a certain desperation creeping in, 'She hasn't _done_ anything, why can't you just let her go?'

Odella had halted, staring back at the girl and for a moment she wore an expression that could have almost been described as pity, a frown creasing her brow as though she was unaccustomed to the sensation.

'I am… sorry. Decisions can be made in haste but they cannot always be resolved so quickly. It truly is a matter out of my hands. Good day.'

Odella turned away, the other mages following her a few paces before they each disappeared in a bright blue flash. Fritha gave a disheartened mix of sigh and groan, Jaheira sweeping in to gather an arm about her.

'Come now, that all could have gone much worse.'

'I suppose,' Fritha muttered, though she did not look particularly convinced.

'Yes,' said Aerie encouragingly, 'they aren't going to hold us responsible for Tolgerias and Valygar is free now too.'

Valygar might have been pleased about this but he was muttering something about 'Lying mage jackals' and was too occupied to comment. Jaheira sighed, raising her voice slightly so as to better ignore it as she turned back to Fritha.

'Imoen is a little closer, now, at least. Come, let us take your treasures to Gaelen.'

This seemed to rouse the girl slightly or perhaps she just remembered herself, her recent air of intense good-humour about her once more as Fritha led the march, albeit it slowly, the slums about them just beginning to stir with the dawn.

Gaelen's familiar residence was just at the end of the street now, all worn brick and solid wooden door, the majority of their group moving to wait by the wall on the other side of the narrow street as Jaheira stepped up with Fritha, the girl hammering on the peeling wood and roaring at the top of her lungs.

'Gaelen! GAELEN!'

It was clearly the sort of summons that garnered a prompt response, the door swinging wide barely moments later, the man himself stood in the mouth, barefoot with his shirt un-tucked and breaches buttoned-up all wrong, his face pale and drawn in his panic.

'Morning, Gaelen, did we wake you?' Fritha questioned cheerfully, not waiting for an answer as she barged past him to empty her haul of arcane loot onto his rickety parlour table next to his inkwell and ledgers, 'Right, I want all this lot fencing and I want good prices for it to, don't try giving me that '_Oh, magical items are harder to sell on_' nonsense!'

Gaelen still seemed a little dazed but was catching up quickly, the man hastened to shut the door after Jaheira and hide the treasures from view.

'All right, all right, only keep your voice down, aye? Coo, that's quite the haul you've got there. Let's have a look…' for a moment there was silence as Gaelen examined each piece with a practised eye, 'Right, I'll write-off two thousand and five for the lot -that do you? Good, so another,' he picked up his stylus to make a few brisk calculations in his ledger, 'five thousand, two hundred and forty and we'll be straight.'

Fritha drew back with a frown. 'What do you mean, _five thousand and_ _we'll be straight_? According to your ledger we've only paid just under ten. That's barely half the twenty thousand figure you gave me.'

'Well, yes,' the thief admitted looking surprised she was questioning it, 'I was told to let you know you need go no higher than fifteen now, m'lady.'

'_Fifteen?' _Fritha repeated shrilly, her frown deepening_,_ 'What, and the Shadow Thieves have just suddenly decided to let me off the other five thousand out of the goodness of their hearts, have they? Do I _look_ like I came down in the last shower? Why the Hells have they lowered the price?'

'You know why!' Gaelen burst out angrily, 'You told Renal you'd been offered less by that guild of bloodsuckers and would turn coat to work for them! What choice had he but to go to Master Linvail and get him to lower our offer.'

For an instant Fritha was stunned.

'He did… I mean, yes, I did,' she confirmed coolly, regaining her composure, 'You lot shouldn't have priced yourselves out the market, should you?'

And the rest of their meeting was concluded with the succinct civility of those who did not wish to be in each other's company, Fritha and Jaheira joining the others outside with no mention of what had transpired within, and they were a few streets away when Fritha seemed to feel free to voice her joy.

'_Ahhhhh!'_ she squealed, grabbing hold of Minsc's sleeve and tugging it in her joy. 'Five thousand less to find! That means we're nearly there, we've only got another five thousand to raise and we'll have done it!'

The group had stopped around her, reactions ranging from bemused to alarmed, Aerie finally venturing, 'Did Gaelen give you a good price?'

Jaheira smiled slightly and shook her head 'No… Renal told the Shadowmaster Fritha was considering taking the vampires up on her offer so he lowered the price.'

Their reaction had been the same as Fritha's initial response, a stunned silence hanging over them before the smiles slowly began to emerge, Fritha still wild in her elation, the girl throwing her arms up to the pale dawn light.

'Renal Bloodscalp, I love you!'


	72. The fair foul day

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**The fair foul day**

Fritha raised a hand politely to Samuel as she passed, the halfling busy serving patrons in the midday day rush though he spared her a nod all the same as she headed for the stairs, descending into the flickering lamplight of the theatre. Their group, includingthe reticent ranger, had retired as soon as they had arrived back at the Coronet that morning, the others presumably going straight to bed, though sleep was not for her, Fritha still soaring with joy and their triumph and she had turned her energies to something far more important.

Fritha jumped down the last three steps, cloak and hair billowing about behind her and she could see those who had been sat idle on the stage suddenly struggling to their feet, rushing to look busy lest they invite her temper of the previous day. Someone called backstage for Higgold and sure enough, the man appeared on stage a moment later followed by what looked to be the rest of the troupe, though only the director ventured down into the auditorium to meet her.

'My Lady Patron-'

'Right,' she cut him off, sweeping up the aisle to throw the final draft onto the stage with a pointed slap, '_that_ is the script we will now be working from. Once everyone's had a glance over it, please take it to the Temple of Oghma to be scribed,' she continued to Meck, tossing the boy a purse which he caught deftly. 'Six copies should be more than enough.'

'My lady!' came a gasp behind her and she turned to find Higgold flicking through the manuscript, his eyes wide.

_Just say it, just say _one_ thing!_

'It's…'

Everyone seemed to hold their breath, waiting for him to proclaim judgement and for all Fritha had convinced herself it was a stupid play anyway and she didn't give two figs as to what they thought, her heart was in her throat.

'…_wonderful_!' he breathed, finally tearing his eyes away to beam at her with an expression of unflattering disbelief.

'Oh, well,' she faltered, her outrage dissipating to leave her feeling rather embarrassed, 'most of the work was Zeran's -I just altered some of the other lines to fit in around them.'

'No, no, my patron,' Higgold gushed, 'it is so much more than that, there is such a melancholy air of inevitability to it all now.'

Fritha frowned; they _did_ say it was better to write what you knew.

'Yes, well… anyway, six copies please Meck,' she instructed, already turning to leave. Higgold's fretting halted her.

'But aren't you going to stay, my lady, and give directions for the first rehearsal?'

'No, I've written in directions where I thought they were needed –it will be fine.'

'But-'

Fritha sighed; her good spirits were evaporating. 'Look, I just got back from the Nine Hells about five hours ago -and no, that was _not_ me being facetious.' She clapped him soundly on the arm, 'Higgold, I have every faith in you.'

The man nodded, squaring up to her gaze, his jaw jutting out with an almost comical determination.

'Well -well yes, my lady! Right, you all heard our patron,' he called, his voice drifting back to her as she headed for the stairs, 'now, everyone gather about and we shall do the first read through together.'

xxx

Fritha arrived back to the Coronet to find the high sun had roused more than just the Five Flagon's patrons, her friends sat about a table in the far corner taking a meal of fish soup together, Valygar still among their number, Jaheira glancing up with surprise at her approach.

'Goodness, Fritha, you've been out? I assumed you were still sleeping when I could not rouse you.'

'Asleep?' she laughed as she drew out the empty chair next to her, 'I wish. No, I had something to attend to at the theatre.'

Next to her, Minsc frowned. 'Boo says they demand too much of you, young Fritha; even the mightiest of warriors need rest.'

'I'm fine, don't fuss,' she sighed, leaning forward to serve herself some soup, Anomen glancing up from his dish to catch her eye.

'And how did they find it?'

'Find what?' questioned Jaheira.

'Fritha was re-writing the play for the troupe,' Aerie explained succinctly, turning to the girl herself. 'So how was it? Did they like it?'

Fritha shrugged, casually pouring some cream into the thick orange stew, trying and failing to look nonchalant.

'It was fine.'

But Anomen could obviously tell she was pleased and smiled kindly. 'As I knew it would be. We were just in discussion of what we will be doing today.'

'_Apart_ from catching up on our sleep,' the druid added sternly as Fritha hid a yawn in her sleeve.

'Well,' the girl managed finally, trying not to sound unwelcoming though she could think of no nicer way of phrasing it, 'I wonder whether Valygar requires anything more from us since he is still among our company?'

Those about her shared a look and she could tell this was already something which had been discussed before her arrival, the ranger finishing his mouthful and laying the spoon back into his dish to fix her with that unyielding gaze.

'Actually, in finally meeting Lavok, I have been brought to the conclusion that I have not seen quite as much of the world as I once thought I had; things I had perhaps held as certainties now much more indistinct and I would welcome the chance to explore this and broaden my experiences further –in your company, if you will have me.'

Fritha smiled. 'Of course, as I am sure the others have assured you, we would welcome your sword and I, for one, hope you find the enlightenment you seek -as the sages say, the first step to understanding is accepting you know nothing.'

'Which is a lot easier for some than others,' quipped Jaheira dryly, sending her a sidelong glance. Fritha ignored the woman.

'_As_ for our plans, we should start looking for some more work; does anyone have any suggestions?'

'I was wondering whether we would have time to visit the park today too,' ventured Aerie quietly with a glance to Cernd, the druid himself sighing as he shook his head.

'I appreciate your consideration, Aerie, but I see no point in tormenting myself with such fruitless pursuits. I would rather just put it behind me.'

'But, Cernd, he's your son. Just because Magistrate Ianulin said we shouldn't investigate Deril doesn't me we can't.'

Across the table, Valygar choked, his spoon clattering into his dish. 'Deril? _Althan Deril?'_

Cernd nodded slowly. 'Yes… do you know of him?'

'Only that he is necromancer of a power that even the Cowled Wizards will not attempt to control.'

'By the Gods, Ahsdale!'

'Now calm down, Cernd,' Fritha cut in evenly, 'You met the boy yourself and he seemed fine -I truly don't believe he is in any danger.'

'It is so, Cernd, and rash action now could only serve to make matters worse,' Jaheira agreed, turning back to Valygar to add, 'How do you know of Deril?'

The man looked reluctant to elaborate though he answered stiffly, 'My mother made experiments into the necromantic arts later in her life; she and Deril moved in the same circles for a time, though I never met the man myself.'

'And the authorities did _nothing?_' demanded Cernd.

'Necromancy itself may be frowned upon, but it is not outside Amnian law,' explained Anomen, Valygar nodding his agreement.

'That is so. However, the practise of such an art can require certain components which would be deemed wholly unlawful anywhere outside of Thay. The Cowled Wizards are said to monitor the practise of necromancy within the city -only those mages with enough power and influence can rise above their controls.'

Fritha sighed and shook her head. 'First there was Isea, then yourself, and now we're investigating Deril; are there _no _honest nobles in this city?'

'To be fair, Valygar wasn't actually a criminal,' offered Aerie. Fritha nodded thoughtfully.

'Oh, yes, I suppose so. Well, if Deril _is_ a necromancer, our first goal should be to find some proof of this and any possible illegal activities which he may be linked to it.'

Valygar nodded. 'I may have some documents at my estate; we-'

But the ranger was cut off as the door to the Coronet was thrown open and two swarthy young women in plain travelling robes practically fell into the tavern, casting about the room wildly before they found their table and the shorter one cried, _'Yeniv! Ba yeniv!'_

The taller was already striking out towards them, her imperious tones ringing over the general clamour, '_Daket_, _loars'svet!_'

'Speak, their language, Hulmeira,' came the shorter girl meekly, 'Yundra said-'

'Yundra is not here, Emurra!'

Jaheira finally tore her gaze from the strange pair to send the ranger an inquiring look. 'Minsc, do you _know_ these women?'

'Yes, he knows us,' snapped Hulmeira, instantly whirling to address the man again, '_Loars'svet, unguren'nahaij!_'

'I see no _must_ about it,' said Fritha, the flush to her cheeks quite at odds to the iciness of her tone, 'and you call Minsc _that_ again and we won't be helping anyone.'

Emurra practically shoved her friend out of the way in her haste at a reconciliation.

'Please, brother, we need aid! Our Elder, Yundra, has disappeared. At first we thought nothing of it for she often leaves us to go about the city on her own errands. But it has been three days now and still she has not returned. We thought perhaps it was a test, but then yesterday we noticed a strange man, dark haired with reddish skin following our movements in that place with the many stalls -Waukeen's Promenade.'

'It is as my sister says,' added Hulmeira, her manner considerably more subdued, 'We are very worried for our Elder, she has much power but such often just attracts even greater enemies. Please, we require your aid.'

Fritha said nothing, just slowly turned to look at Minsc, the man's dark eyes bright and keen. 'Boo says it is our duty as Rashemi to help our sisters.'

Fritha turned back to the girls to nod once. 'Then we shall.'

xxx

'So you will have to return home and the Wychlaran Council are just going to –to pass some judgement on you and that is _it_?' Fritha cried, the two Wychlaran who were leading the way a few yards ahead of them glancing back at the noise.

Aerie kept her eyes on the fine tall houses that lines the street around them, trying not to feel guilty at the obvious pain in Fritha's voice as she questioned the man walking next to her. Their group had split up at the arrival of the Wychlaran apprentices, Fritha sending Anomen and Cernd with Valygar to look for information on Deril while she had joined Aerie, Minsc and Jaheira in accompanying the two witches back to their inn to look for clues as to Elder Yundra's disappearance, the circumstances of Aerie and Minsc's previous meeting with the three Rashemi being revealed along the way, much to Fritha and Jaheira's distress.

'But why did you not tell us?' asked the druid sadly.

Minsc shook his great bald head with a slow resignation.

'It would have changed nothing. I have always known it will be so. And after we kill Irenicus, Minsc and Boo will return to Rashemen to face the Wychlaran's judgement. It is a solemn duty and a great honour to be a guardian to a witch. Many thought I could not because I know I am not as other men, but Dynaheir believed in me, vouched for me, said I was strong and loyal and would do well. Now, when I return all who spoke against me before will rise up their voices again.'

'But it wasn't your fault!' pressed Aerie, frustrated that one who would fight relentlessly against injustice for others seemed so willing to accept it for himself. But Minsc merely shrugged.

'Were we in Rashemen, had my fellow warriors seen all I had done and known I had not acted as a coward then I would have ready voices to vouch for me at my judgement. I have none here who can prove that.'

'We would come! We would do that, wouldn't we?' offered Aerie earnestly, Fritha nodding her agreement.

'Ah, it is kind of you to offer, little Aerie, but the words of outsiders will hold little weight.'

'Oh, Minsc,' sighed Fritha, seeming utterly disheartened, though her lamentations were cut short.

'Here, this is our inn,' came Hulmeira ahead of them, gracefully sweeping an arm up the fair red brick building beside them, the sign swinging merrily over the door proclaiming _The Duck and Drake_ in a neat plain hand. They were in a wide pleasant street in a more affluent area of the city, made so by the many merchants that took residence there, the large market square that sat before the western end of the Promenade only one street over.

And the inn seemed to reflect this; inside, it was more coffeehouse than tavern, the light airy room set with a dozen or so small circular tables, uniformed waitresses moving between them with tall pots of coffee and chocolate as well as the usual tea and small ales that were drunk in the day.

'So how did you two find us, anyway?' asked Fritha as their group climbed the narrow stairs to the first floor, Emurra glancing back to explain,

'When we realised we needed assistance, we asked about the Promenade where we met the elf witch and our brother. Most merchants did not know of them, but one towards the western steps said he had seen them in your company, and that I could find you at the Copper Coronet inn.

'Ah, I bet I know just who that man was as well,' Fritha trilled with a smile, 'How nice of him to remember me; it was an age ago I asked him to keep an ear out for work for us.'

Emurra nodded, looking unsure as to how to reply and turning back to the hallway now before her, the group making their way a few paces along it before Hulmeira brought them to a halt, unlocking the door to their left on a small but pleasant room of white plaster walls, only just large enough for the broad canopied bed and the small fireplace that was tucked into the corner, the window next to it opening out over the bustling street they had just left.

'Have the maids been in since Yundra left?' asked Jaheira as they moved into the room proper, Minsc stood unobtrusively by the bed as the women fanned out.

'Ah, I am not sure, I do not think so,' Emurra faltered.

Aerie moved over to the window, checking for any signs it had been forced, Fritha crouched at the fireplace next to her.

'Here, this could be something,' the girl muttered, sitting back on her haunches to lift up a small scrap of burnt parchment, fingers grey with the ash she had rescued it from. 'From the thickness and quality I would say it was likely a letter, but why burn it?'

'Yundra could have burnt it herself if she was worried about it falling into the wrong hands,' reasoned Jaheira, 'Do you know if she was in correspondence with anyone?

'I do not believe so,' said Hulmeira after a questioning glancing to her friend, 'but Elder Yundra kept much private and would often go out alone.'

In the corridor outside, the clatter of footsteps, a pair of maids walking past the ajar door laughing brightly over armfuls of folded sheets. Jaheira glanced back at the sound.

'I am going to see if the servants here saw or heard anything suspicious.'

'Okay…' Fritha murmured distractedly, straightening to give the fragment to the elf behind her, 'What do you think, Aerie?'

Aerie looked down at the scrap she now held, the paper smooth and tingling under her fingers. 'There is a trace of magic about it. Oh…' she sighed as some long forgotten memories suddenly emerged behind her eyes.

'What is it, young Aerie?' came Minsc, all eagerness.

'I, well,' she swallowed, her throat suddenly dry as the implications of what she was about to consider struck her, 'when I was captured, the slavers had to put many charms on my cage to prevent me using my magic. They- they would laugh at how easily they had caught me. Slavers usually take people by force or drug them but another way was to send them a letter with a magic glyph inside. It is much more expensive, but necessary in some cases. It activates when the letter is opened and paralyses the person leaving them vulnerable -especially useful for mages, who carry their weapon with them always and can kill whole rooms with but a word.'

'You were a _slave_?' repeated Hulmeira as though it confirmed a lot. The elf returned her look coldly.

'Yes, for a time.'

'D-Did they capture you with something like that?' ventured Emurra. Aerie turned away feeling sad and empty.

'No, they just shot me.'

She heard them mutter something behind her, but it was in Rashemi and she did not much care anyway, glancing up as Jaheira back came into the room.

'I've spoken to the servers, those two girls recall seeing the same man you described from the Promenade loitering around the back of the stables here, though they have not seen him for three days now.'

'That have been must be him!' cried Emurra eagerly.

Fritha nodded. 'Right, if this was this glyph thing and it was obtained within the city then there is a chance the Cowled Wizards will know something of it. Aerie and Minsc you go over to the Council Buildings with our Wychlaran and ask around. As for the slavers, I believe Jaheira may have a contact there.'

A moment for her intimation to dawn and the druid smiled, broad and predatory.

xxx

Clouds were drawing in overhead, grey and heavy, though there was not yet that coolness to the air that heralded rain. The wide cobbled avenue about them lacked the bustle of the slums or Promenade, a few people and the occasional carriage rattling past at a brisk trot as Valygar led both he and Anomen to his estate. Cernd looked up at the slender neat trees that lined either side, their trunks little thicker than his arm rising up to open out in a small globe of branches, not a twig out of place. They were kept too trimmed and confined to ever really grow, their roofs not given room enough to spread under the heavy cobblestones and the sight upset him more than if there had been no trees there at all.

It was a relief, then, when Valygar turned from the avenue into a narrower side street, the trees to their left replaced by a tall stone wall that no doubt secured the edge to one of the area's many grand estates.

Cernd walked on just behind the pair, his heart weighing in his chest like a thudding piece of lead, the normally liberating arc of sky above him feeling oppressive and stifling. He knew stress of any source, be it physical or mental, was not good for him, but he was usually so well in control of his emotions, always able to keep a strong rein on his wilder impulses at any point on the moon's cycle. Their recent planer jaunt had be an unpleasant reminder though of how it had used to be before he had become more proficient in Gragus's ways. That itching unwelcome feeling to his skin as though it no longer belonged to him, the quivering through his organs as they fought to ripple and change within him. Cernd started suddenly, tearing a sleeve back to find his arm just as it usually was, the skin tanned and taught over the sinewy muscles of his forearm, the dark hairs trembling in the faint breeze, no more coarse or thick than they were usually, his tongue running unconsciously over two even rows of teeth.

Cernd shook himself, trying to quell the sudden panic. That infernal scorched wilderness, _Avernus_ -that barren desert of the Nine Hells had stirred something primal in him and once awakened it seemed it would take some time to calm again. And yet, the Fates had other trials for him to face, it seemed. Any mention of his son could not help but invoke strong emotions and he was trying desperately not to even think of the possibility of having Ahsdale given over to his care, the hope and uncertainty and pure primal _fear_ surging through him.

That morning had dawned the same as any other and now all had changed. Everything seemed to be moving so quickly, like a river suddenly swollen with meltwater and he was being swept along by the current, unsure as to whether he should be struggling or not. When he had first learnt of Ahsdale's he had wanted nothing more than to be a father to him, the idea that he would remain forever a stranger to the boy was torturous. But it had been an idea he had accepted and despite how it had felt, he had survived. And now…

Was he ready for whole life to change completely? And was such a change in his son's best interests? After all, Deril might be a powerful mage, a necromancer even, but that did not necessarily make him evil and their investigations may not discover anything to indicate either way.

Cernd glanced up as the sandstone wall that loomed beside them was finally broken by a plain wooden door, the heavy wrought hinges creaking cheerfully as Valygar unlocked it on a small kitchen garden and the druid realised belatedly they were at the rear of his estate, indeed the back of a great sandstone house could easily be seen looming out of the neat rows of raspberry bushes and bean poles. Valygar led them through the garden to a small unobtrusive door at the back of the building and leading them into the kitchens.

It was a reasonable size and clean enough that someone likely took pride in keeping it so; from the deep terracotta tiles that covered the floor to the bright copper pans that hung above the hearth, everything had been lovingly burnished to a deep shine. The young woman at the sink peeling vegetables whipped round at the sound of the door and they were greeted by a shrill chorus of chairs scraping back as the three men who had been sat about the large scrubbed table taking tea suddenly stood.

'Master Valygar, you are returned!' the woman cried, drying her pink hands on her apron as she rushed to welcome him in, blond braids swinging, 'The Wizards asked so many questions about you but we told them nothing –indeed, we did not know anything to tell.'

Valygar let his gaze travel them all, his words holding a sincere gravity. 'You did well, Mab -you all did. Where is Nentat?'

'Oh, there's been some flooding down in the southern holdings,' she explained quickly, 'Master Nentat went out to speak to the tenant farmers and assess the damage, though he should be due back any day now.'

Valygar nodded once. 'Good. Now, I have some errands that must be run. Ivery, you and Mullen take this key and follow these directions down to the docks. You will reach a room. Anything left inside by way of books or notes -and I doubt there will be anything- but whatever you find bring back here. And Marden, I need you to take this,' Valygar continued, drawing a sealed square of parchment from his jerkin, 'and pass it to the innkeep, Johanis at the Ship and Star tavern.'

'Yes, my lord.'

And their tea was left, forgotten as the three servants immediately took their leave.

'Mab, we will be upstairs in the study,' said Valygar, the girl bobbing an unseen curtsey as the ranger stalked past her, Anomen and Cernd just left to follow, leaving Mab to clear away the half-full cups.

They followed the ranger, the hallways and doors becoming grander as they moved from the back of the house, the plain plaster walls of the kitchens changing to fine dark wood panels, heavy tapestries here and there breaking up the undulating brown. It was of a style Cernd knew to be popular in the homes of the Waterhavian nobles, rather than more traditional painted plaster and tiles of Athkatlan houses, made necessary by his homeland's long hot summers.

Through another door and along a hallway and they were suddenly in the entrance hall before a set of wide mahogany stairs, a dark wine red carpet running up the centre. Cernd gazed up as they reached the first landing, a huge stained glass window adorning the back wall, the height of the two floors combined and bearing the Corthala crest: a hart rampant against a great full moon upon a field of deep blue, garlands of emerald leaves entwined about it to make a boarder. The colours were vivid, enriched to even more vibrant hues as outside the sunlight split the clouds, Cernd feeling rather suffocated as he started up at it; the hart, those leave, that great pale moon…

'Who is Nentat?' he blurted out, anything to focus his mind upon as it swam and chattered in his head.

'He is our steward,' answered Valygar, sending him a measured look before turning back to continue his ascent, 'His family have been retainers to ours for generations and he ran the house for my parents just as he does so now for me –they were always too busy with their studies to take an interest and I am rarely here. Our household is no longer the grand estate it once was, much of it sold off and wasted over the years, but he keeps enough money coming in to maintain the lands and buildings and keep the few servants my parents retained in a wage and I do not care for much else. Nentat maintained the library too while we had one -it was he who had stored those books away in the attics where I first discovered Lavok's diary, when the main library had become too full to ever find anything.'

'I see… was the letter you sent out just now to him?' Cernd continued, knowing it likely hadn't been but wanting the man to very much keep talking. If Valygar frowned again, he did not see it, the ranger not even turning around as they reached the second floor and set out along a wide door lined corridor.

'No, it was a message to Arvind to let him know the outcome of our troubles with Lavok and the Wizards. If he made to visit me again in Umar and did not find me there it would have worried him, to say the least. He is a good man; he deserves to know all is well, that he and Sangeeta can move on from these troubles in peace. Here,' Valygar opened the door at his right on to a small room panelled in the same wood as the rest of the house, 'this was my mother's study.'

The air was cool and slightly damp as the three stepped over the threshold; there had been no fire lit in there for a while. A large desk was set against the wall they had entered by, a fireplace taking up most of the wall next to it, two large bookcases built into the alcoves on either side and barely holding enough books over both of them to fill even one.

'The Cowled Wizards rather emptied it in their search for Lavok's notes,' commented Anomen, Cernd nodding, feeling better for the cooler air and the soothing sweep of green he could see of the tolerably matured grounds through the two windows. Valygar just shrugged loosely, moving over to the bookcase that was nestled in the alcove next to the desk.

'Yes and no, though the Cowled Wizards did take what few were left, it was _I_ who destroyed most of her books; why leave them for others to be corrupted as my parents had? The few hidden in my den at the docks were likely destroyed by Sangeeta and the others, though they were mostly related to Lavok's research and planar travel –I had no need nor desire to study necromancy.'

Cernd frowned, glad Fritha had decided to go with the other group; she would have likely had a _lot_ to say about such arbitrary destruction of knowledge. He watched as the ranger fumbled at something just underneath the shelf above, a narrow panel finally jutting loose with a soft click and he removed it to reveal a small alcove just set in the wall behind, a few bricks removed to leave space enough for a small collection, the black-bound books within grey with loosed plaster and dust.

'No,' Valygar continued with an unusually wistful sigh, 'most of her and my father's books are gone one way or another- though I could not bear to part with these ones. These areher diaries from while she still lived. From before she even met my father to… well, the later volumes may contain some mention of Deril.' He was flicking through one with an absent look, Cernd wrestling with his pressing conscience as the man was forced to relive this pain for the druid's benefit.

'I am sorry, Valygar. Life's breezes may take the seed far from the tree, but however differently we grow from our parents they still have an influence and such matters, though part of the natural order, are never easy.'

'There was nothing natural about her end…' the ranger muttered into the turning pages.

Cernd and Anomen shared a brief look, the knight venturing politely, 'Did the Cowled Wizards exception to her… practises?'

Valygar was still gazing at the diary, and for a moment, Cernd thought he would simply decline to answer when-

'It was six years ago. My father had become sick and had eventually died of the malady. So caught up in her work, my mother had not even noticed and the shock when she discovered it was enough to send her over the edge, her mind having been slowly corrupted by the magic and the cursed blood in her veins. In Eshpurta at the time, I was informed of my father's death and returned home to find the pair of them had confined themselves to my mother's chambers, my father shuffling about the darkened rooms just a corpse animated by her fell magics -my mother's last desperate attempt to make up for the lost years. She was quite mad; I had no choice but to take her life.'

The silence seemed incredibly loud.

'There are some more books in the attics which the Wizards may not have found,' Valygar continued eventually, the man replacing the book on the shelf with the others and turning to leave, 'Come, we may find something on Deril yet.'

Cernd glanced to the man next to him, Anomen's face wearing the same horrified mask he suspected of his own as all the while his blood shivered and growled.

xxx

'Ployer?' Fritha called brightly as she stepped in from the relative brightness of the street, her eyes taking only a moment to accustom themselves and take in the room about her, the place a jumble of well, everything.

Rotting wooden beams and planks were leant against the walls amongst rusting armour and battered old furniture, some of which looked to be little more than kindling, every available surface covered in pots and jugs, all chipped and cracked, bundles of moth-eaten clothes stuffed wherever there was room. And there, in the centre of it all, a table that had definitely seen better days had been placed, a ledger and inkwell set neatly upon the top while, behind it, was a rickety high-backed chair. Fritha glanced to the woman behind her, Jaheira raising an eyebrow; Ployer was back in business it seemed.

'Ployer?' Fritha shouted again, a clank from the doorway opposite followed by 'I come,' in a familiar voice from somewhere in the yard beyond, the man bustling past the rotting curtain and suddenly Ployer was before them. He was just as short as Fritha remembered but not so scrawny, a thin layer of fat smoothing out the lines on his drawn tanned face. His dark hair was still worn long and greasy but the robes he wore were patched and clean and there was a keen hunger to his eyes that had been absent before.

'What, _you_?' he snapped, seemingly more that a little rattled as he recognised her, 'How did you find me?'

Jaheira straightened from where she had been examining a cracked speckled looking glass, emerging from behind a battered dresser with a cold smile.

'Why, we merely followed the _reek_.'

'J-Jaheira?'

'Yes, and remember what debt I owe you as you consider your next.'

Ployer had paled visibly, the man edging sideways to surreptitiously put the table between them –a mistake really.

'Jaheira, you're scaring him, ' Fritha scolded playfully, hopping up to sit on the table next to him as the druid stepped up on the other side, hemming the man in. 'Oh, don't fret, Ployer, we aren't here to kill you –that is unless you can think of a reason we should,' the girl teased.

Ployer snorted bitterly. 'I run a legitimate business now, for all the good it does me. In fact,' he considered, beady eyes narrowed a moment, 'I pay my taxes - Get out of here before I summon the Watch!'

'Sit down, Ployer!' snapped Jaheira, the man dropping meekly into the chair behind him. Fritha smiled broadly.

'That's better. We just want some information and then we'll be on our way. We need to know about the slavers in the city: where they hold the auctions, who the prominent traders are-'

But Ployer was already shaking his head.

'I don't know anything about that.'

Jaheira slammed a fist onto the table with a force that Fritha felt in her legs. 'Do not waste our time, Ployer! You may not be in the business now, but you were once, so speak!'

'I told you, I don't know!' he cried, swallowing nervously, 'I made it my business not to know!'

'Oh, come off it,' snapped Fritha, 'So you couldn't even make a guess as to where they would be operating from now? It cannot have changed that much since you were in the trade.'

Ployer was pressing back in the chair as though he could not get far enough away from them, the wooden frame creaking ominously.

'It can and has. It changes and moves constantly -it's the nature of the business. Those of the Watch who can't be bribed always on your trail; every nobleman or Magistrate who wants to be seen to be doing good by the citizens of Athkatla trying to find you out. No one understands that in a large city, slavery it just the way of things-'

'I did not ask for your life's philosophy, wretch!' shrieked Jaheira.

But it seemed his own words had bolstered him, Ployer's face regaining some of its colour as he ranted.

'Just look around you! It does not have to be slavery to make us slaves -all around us the strong pray on the weak. Merchants band together to keep the price they pay for goods from the farmers and labourers to a minimum. The young practically slaves in the guilds to which they are apprenticed. Why even that inn you stay in -right next door to the cheapest brothel in the slums. You cannot tell me all those girls are taking home a wage.'

xxx

The sun was low behind them as the women left his house, the street about them busy with people all making their way home before the dusk set in, carts trying to slowly navigate their way through the crowds.

'Do you believe what he was saying?' asked Fritha finally. Jaheira gave a grim nod.

'Yes, I do. By Silvanus,' she sighed with a mixture of wry amusement and fatigue, 'this life is never quiet. I gave a message to Bernard this morning; he will attempt to get it passed to Dermin and perhaps one of our troubles can begin to mend.'

Fritha nodded, a silence falling between them as they each returned to their thoughts and Jaheira let her attention drift about her, revolting in the crowds and the buildings and the all-pervading squalor and- she stopped, her feet thankfully unaffected as her eyes caught on the figures of four familiar men in the reflection of the passing windows.

She had seen them lounging about outside the Cracked Anvil alehouse, regarding everyone they past with a coolly appraising look. They were mercenaries by their appearance, each of them armed for it, though poorly and Jaheira suspected they likely took on the bandit hunting and caravan escorts that were the staples of that life. Though, it seemed that day the Fates had found them a finer prize.

'Fritha, do not look back but I believe we are being followed.'

'Followed?' the girl repeated, though she fixed upon the essentials very quickly, 'How many of them?'

'Four, I think. I only noticed just now. We could likely best them though I would rather avoid a fight when civilians are around. But either way, we will need to lose them before we return to the Coronet.'

Fritha spat a curse under her breath. 'Can't I have just one day when nothing tries to kill me? All right, all right,' she sighed as they closed upon a cross-roads, a cooper causing a bottleneck as he stopped with his cart to chat with one of the street vendors, merrily ignoring the people as they pressed and shuffled past grumbling loudly. 'Right,' Fritha bided, her hand closing about the druid's arm, 'wait until we're past the cart and… now!'

The girl ducked, pulling Jaheira with her as she took a sharp right and pushed half-crouched through the crowds, the women finally breaking free to find themselves tearing down an alley, the shouts behind them indicating their disappearance had not gone unnoticed.

'Quick, in here!' shouted Fritha, diving through the rotting curtain to their left, Jaheira on her heels.

**...**

'Are they down there?'

Jaheira stood at the curtain, the reek of smoke and grease that infused the heavy sackcloth making her nostrils twitch as she listened to the rasp of lingering feet shifting on the packed earth street just outside. Fritha was behind her, though facing the room they had just piled into unannounced, a finger held to her lips and Jaheira spared a glance behind her.

The woman looked afraid, though too much so to act, her stance submissive and squat as she nursed a sickly looking child on a stool by the unlit hearth, a swarm of children sat and stood about her, varied in size and age but all with that same wan worn look, silent as they stared up at them.

'No…' the man outside sighed eventually, 'no, I can't see them.'

'Ah, come on,' called another impatiently, 'It probably wasn't even them. Let's get back to the Anvil.'

The footsteps faded, Jaheira waiting a good few moments longer before she relaxed her grip on her staff.

'They gone?' murmured Fritha at her ear.

'It appears so.'

She heard the girl sigh, Jaheira turning back to watch her fish her purse from her pocket, Fritha weighing it unconsciously in her hand as she let her eyes run over the sea of gaunt grubby faces when she stooped, what would have likely been a year's wages for someone living in such meanness chiming pleasantly as she set the whole purse on the uneven stone flags before the woman's stool. 'My thanks, madam.'

Back out in the street, the cooper had moved on, people travelling freely past them once more as they hurried home.

'So,' began Fritha as they joined the crowds, 'this near miss of ours -how about we forget to mention it to the others.'

Jaheira nodded once, even as she cast another wary glance behind them. 'Agreed.'

And together they set a furious pace back to the Coronet.

xxx

'I can hardly believe it,' breathed Aerie, staring across the crowded tavern to the narrow rickety staircase that all knew led up to the side entrance for the brothel next door; until that moment just accepted by all of them as a part of slums' life. Minsc looked torn, concern for the witch at his side fighting with his fears for the Wychlaran he had vowed to rescue.

'Worry not, little Aerie, Minsc will make them regret the day they made slaves of innocents!'

'Sit down, Minsc,' snapped Jaheira, 'you storm up there and you'll just get yourself thrown out -or worse.'

'And what course would you propose we take, druid?' sneered Hulmeira, Emurra already tugging meekly at her sleeve.

'Hulmeira-'

'No, they swore to help us, but we are no closer to Elder Yundra than we were this morning! We had guessed _before_ she had been taken and the Cowled Wizards would not even hear us; their _help_ has done nothing.'

'You wish to continue your search for her alone?' threatened Jaheira coolly, Minsc hastening to refute her words.

'No, sisters, Boo says we must work together to find your Elder!'

'Listen to him, Hulmeira,' Emurra pleaded, though their squabble had yet to even register for Aerie, the elf still gazing over at the stairs, her face pale as though she was fighting the urge to be sick.

'All this time we have stayed here, while such- such _horrors_ were taking place but a building away.'

'How could we have guessed?' sighed Anomen dully, the guilt at this oversight rising quick within him, 'It is not as though we would ever visit such a place.'

'No,' agreed Fritha darkly, 'but we're going to now. Valygar, you're up, mate.'

'_What?_' snapped the ranger.

'It's as Anomen said, we've never gone up there. It would look suspicious if we did now. You're new; you'll have to do it.'

'She has a point,' Jaheira concurred with a meaningful look. Fritha nodded; that had clearly decided the thing.

'There you go. Now do you need some more coin?'

Valygar frowned. 'No,' he said eventually. Fritha smiled.

'Well, set yourself away then.'

Valygar sighed tersely, giving her one final glare before seeming to give up fighting their logic and rising to stalk off towards the stairs. Aerie shook her head, muttering something about 'fresh air' as she rose as well, Jaheira and Cernd sharing a look before the woman rose to go after her, Cernd shifting into her empty seat to begin a quiet conversation with Minsc on the other side of that large table, the two Wychlaran left to mutter to each other in their own tongue.

Fritha exhaled in a long deep sigh and reached for the bottle before her, the girl ordering a drink before she had even sat down with Jaheira to explain their findings. Anomen watched as she filled one of the four small cups it had arrived with and knocked it back in one mouthful, and she was on her third cup before he spoke up.

'Fritha, that port is stronger than it looks.'

The girl pointedly downed the contents of the cup she had poised before her lips.

'Anomen, I believe we've already had the conversation about you not being my father.'

'And I do not seek to be! You know I care for you, Fritha.'

Fritha sighed dramatically and took up the bottle again. 'Oh come on, Anomen, don't start on again with that, I really haven't the head for it right now. I care for you too; you're my friend, despite all this-' she waved her free hand about erratically, quickly giving up on trying to _verbally_ describe the complicated mixed of feelings between them. Anomen regarded her sternly a moment.

'Why did you keep the flower I gave you?'

'Oh, I don't know,' Fritha cried plaintively, 'I just did! Look, Anomen,' she continued with the pained air of a very _forced_ confession, 'were this any other time and place I would have considered it. But we are here and it is now and there is really nothing to be done.'

'Fritha!' he exclaimed; the feeling everything he hoped for was so close yet just as out of reach was maddening. 'This is not going to just disappear because you refuse to acknowledge it. I am in _love_ with you!'

'_Anomen_,' she hissed, going pink as people on nearby tables glanced round to the source of the noise, Minsc sending him a stern glare, 'you don't even understand what you'd be bringing upon yourself, do you? This-this _alliance_ you seem to crave could mean your death!'

He sent her an unyielding look. 'Then I am willing to take that risk'

'_Willing to take that risk_?' she cried shrilly, seemingly unconcerned now about any looks she was attracting. 'Do you even know of what you speak? It isn't just some outside chance, Anomen. In fact, there are some bookmakers up in the Gate who will give you very good odds on it!'

'I will not deny our lives are dangerous,' he agreed earnestly, 'but neither my fate nor my actions would be any different were we sharing courtship. And if our days _are_ numbered, do you not think that we should seize upon what small joys we can?'

Fritha drew back with an incredulous frown. 'So what you're saying is, we should be together because there's a good chance one of us could die? That doesn't make a _jot_ of sense! And believe me, Anomen, if I thought this was to be one of my last nights alive, I would not be spending it drinking in the Coronet, just as I have practically every other evening since arriving in this wretched city!'

She snatched up the bottle again from the table before her, losing a good few slugs to the table before she calmed enough to refine her pouring. Next to her, Anomen sighed.

'What would you do?'

'Sorry?' she questioned, re-corking the bottle and turning back to find him gazing at her, his expression unreadable.

'What would you do, if it _was_ your last night alive?'

Fritha blinked slowly, before deciding there was nothing offensive to his question and leaning back in her chair to consider it.

'Well, I would go to temple and pray for Imoen -just because I am going to die doesn't mean the rest of you will. And then I would visit the theatre and make sure everything was running smoothly and ensure Higgold remembers my will concerning the deed.'

'You already have a will?' he confirmed, looking mildly surprised and she shrugged.

'Seemed a little foolish not to, all things considered… it is to be kept in trust for Meck, without his knowledge, until his twentieth year when he may inherit it or the others may purchase it from him at the market value.'

Anomen smiled slightly, his eyes soft. 'And then?'

'And then…'

_Go to the shrine of Oghma, surround yourself with books and have a good cry…_

'I'd probably just come back to my room and go to bed,' Fritha finished lamely, 'I'm going to die the next day; it wouldn't do to be tired for it.'

She snorted slightly, but there was little mirth in it and Anomen did not even share that.

'Why is everything a jest to you?' he asked, his pained look making her temper flare.

'Because I have to do _something_, have _some_ reaction, and I feel bursting into tears every few moments is unlikely to inspire others with confidence! Besides,' she continued with a sigh, calm once more and slightly weary, 'for the most part life is pretty funny. I mean, when you first met me, and we fought and fought, I'll wager you could not envisage you would be professing love eternal in but three short months.'

'Indeed, I could not,' he agreed shortly, 'and yet my feelings are no less sincere for their suddenness. _And_ I notice that so far you have never once throughout all refusals of my courtship claimed you do not return them.'

'Anomen!' she cried, his sincere persistence making it all the harder, 'Don't you see? Once I get Imoen back, that's it, I am gone! Too many people around here know about me: I can't stay and risk trouble finding me. It'll be lucky if I remain on the Prime, and I am sure you did not work your entire life to join the Order just so you could leave to come gallivanting across the planes with me!'

Anomen looked almost desperate, the man reaching forward and he likely would have taken her hand if she had not instantly removed both of them from reach.

'Fritha _please,_ do not deny what could grow between us. If we love one another, then nothing-'

'-Will change!' she cut in with a snap, 'Perhaps you should start to read romance novels as well, Anomen, they may give you a better understanding of the differences between realityand _fiction_. As far as I can see, a compromise is impossible in this situation and I will not be responsible for bringing misery on us both. Goodnight.'

Anomen watched her, obviously waiting for her to kick out her chair and stalk away. Fritha glowered at him from under fine amber eyebrows.

'Go on then, I'm tired of being the one who always has to storm off. I'm comfortable and my wine's here. It's your turn.'

Anomen did not move either, the man returning her scowl with one of his own. Fritha sighed, reaching out to set one of the three spare cups before him and filling it along with her own. Together, they drank in silence.

xxx

Valygar sank on to the roughly made bed, the dim lighting not quite hiding the frayed quilt, a thin pale woman, cheap make-up plastered thickly to her worn face sitting next to him with a practised smile that revealed at least one false tooth, the silver winking in the lamp light.

It had been simple enough to get there, the man trudging up the stairs to be cordially admitted by the madam, an ageing woman who was dressed with the pretence she was much younger. She had asked rather bluntly if he had any preference before taking his payment and seating him at a table to wait for the next available girl. The room had been small, windowless and crammed with tables, the air thick with pipesmoke as the men about him gambled and drank as they awaited their turn and his mind had fallen unfortunately upon the earlier meeting at his estate, his companions' undisguised looks of horror at his confession and the awkward way they had approached him for the rest of the afternoon.

He was not ashamed of the course he had taken; he had already mourned his father passing, the man a mere corpse, shambling and insensible when he had finally cut him down. And as for his mother, the grief of losing her husband the first time had been enough to drive her into a madness that had long been building, her mind poisoned by the cursed blood within in her veins and she had been beyond help or reason when he had been forced to end her misery. Or, that was what he had always believed…

'So, you ever been in here before?' came the woman before him, bringing him back to that cramped bare room with a jolt. He shook his head, the woman nodding, dark brittle tresses that spent too much time under the curling irons trembling slightly with the movement.

'No I thought not. I think I'd have recognised you. You're a merc, yes? From the Coronet?'

'Yes,' he answered curtly and he could tell she thought him nervous. The woman smiled again and more genuinely perhaps, turning to the small table next to them that was set with a carafe and two cups.

'Would you like some wine?'

'I would actually like to talk with you.'

'I am not trained in conversation, m'lord.'

'Nor are most people,' he observed dryly, 'and yet they seem to manage somehow. I have paid for my time; do you care how we pass it?'

'No,' she answered flatly, turning to pour herself some wine, 'I don't suppose I do.'

'I want to ask you about the slaves here.'

The woman glanced up from her cup with a guarded look. 'Ah, now Madam Nim does not like us to speak of that.'

'Are you a slave?' he pressed.

The woman shrugged tiredly. 'Perhaps I was once… but no longer now I imagine. I am past my best and I could likely leave here without them spending any bother trying to fetch me back, an old worn out thing like me.'

'Then why do you stay?'

She finished the wine in one mouthful, setting the cup on the table with a sigh.

'Well, it's a trade and I've a roof over my head and you get a few regulars. The management here let me keep my tips, and what I must do to earn them -well, after the first few times it doesn't much matter anymore and, like I said, I've been here for years.'

Valygar frowned, wondering if there was anything left of the woman to save, even if he had been in a position to help her.

'I am looking for a woman who I believe has been taken by slavers in the city. She is old, a foreigner and a mage too, though her magics are likely being suppressed. We think they have taken her to sell on elsewhere.'

The woman sighed again, smoothing a finger over her chapped lips as she considered it.

'Well, if she's old they won't bother bringing her here. I'm not sure where they keep the slaves before sales –the auctions move around a lot and those slavers that come here aren't usually in the mood to chat. Oh, but there's the fighting pit over on Tanners Row, under the Black Hatchet tavern. I'll warrant the slaves there know more than I, being in the thick of the trade as they are, though I doubt it will be as easy to get to talk to one. But it sounds to me like your best bet –they usually ask for a password for entrance to the pit, but just tell them you're friends of Lehtinan.'

'The landlord at the Copper Coronet?' exclaimed Valygar, the woman almost laughing at his surprise.

'Oh, aye, there's a reason he leaves most of the bartending to his staff, only they know him as Leith over at the Hatchet- there, that's a good enough secret to get you inside at least. He runs the fighting pits with a man named Ehid Brask. A pirate they say, he is the one who keeps the place in slaves while Lehtinan deals with the day to day running, making sure all the right pockets get line -or so I heard it from one of the other girls. A bit of a favourite of Ehid's is our Gwen – she must be, that he even spares the time to _speak_ to her. Not all the men at the pit are owned by that pair though. Some of the gladiators belong to other slavers, while others are owned by a few of the noble houses here in the city. If a new slave has arrived anywhere over the city, then chances are someone over at the Hatchet will know about it. That really is all _I_ know though.' She sighed and sent him a tired smile, 'I hope you find your friend, m'lord.'

Valygar nodded once, rising to leave and setting a small stack of gold upon the dresser as he reached the door.

'My thanks for your time.'

Valygar returned to find their group about the table where he had left them, a circle of grim faces, Aerie looking pale but determined in the flickering glow of the lamps as he recounted to them all the woman had told him.

'The Black Hatchet tavern,' breathed Fritha as he finished his tale, leaning back in her chair with a relieved sigh, 'thanks be I've never been there!'

'So what are we going to do?' asked Aerie, all haste. Fritha grinned.

'Well, I don't know about you lot, but I fancy a change of scene. I say we all go out for nice quiet drink.'


	73. Crossed swords

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Crossed swords**

Fritha lingered on the corner, the group in the shadows of the building behind her as she gazed down the road to the grimy whitewashed tavern that was set at the end, a bustling edifice of light and noise in that quiet rundown street, people milling about outside, an even mix of whores looking for their next punter and men so drunk even _that_ tavern had cast them out. They were in the far north east of the slums, bordered by the city walls and river both, in an area where any justice was dispensed by the Shadow Thieves and even their grip was not a firm one. From what she had heard, the district was just an assortment of smaller gangs all vying for control and Fritha suspected the only Watch patrols that went there, did so only to collect their bribes.

'So, we're agreed,' said Fritha, turning back to those gathered behind her, 'we will split up in our approach so as not to draw attention to ourselves. Minsc and I will go in first, Cernd, Jaheira, and our three witches can come in as the second group and Valygar and Anomen can make the third. Remember, take separate tables and wait until I return from the bar before acting on anything.'

A round of nods and Fritha set off, Minsc at her side as they continued along the street and up to the door, the collection of drunks and prostitutes outside keeping quiet as they approached though she wondered if the rest of their company would be so fortunate. Fritha returned the guard's nod with the merest of movements as he opened the door for them, the wall of noise and heat hitting her as they stepped over the threshold.

The tavern was packed, every table occupied while other patrons just stood in groups at the bar or in the convenient alcoves that lined the walls, the air hazy with a fine layer of pipesmoke and sharp with the tang of sweat. And yet for all the crowds of people, everyone seemed to know each other, the whole place ringing with shouts and laughter, people stood calling across the room to one other as though they were all friends of old.

Fritha shifted forward from the doorway as a gaggle of women entered behind them, the girl risking a glance back to confirm it was Jaheira and the others. As she had expected, they were getting quite a bit of attention, especially Aerie and the two witches, though what looks they had garnered did not linger long. Hulmeira sent all who dared catch her eye her most withering scowl while Aerie was wearing a glare that would have done Jaheira proud, Cernd looking the most peaceable one among them as they stalked in to find space on a table against the wall just to the left of the doorway.

'Come on, Minsc,' Fritha smiled, feeling as ready as she ever would, 'let's get a drink.'

He nodded, the pair making their way over to the crowded bar that ran almost the entire length of the back wall, Minsc's presence helping more than anything as people shifted out of his path and Fritha soon found herself at a narrow section of unoccupied counter, hemmed in by patrons on either side. The blond man to her right was holding court in his small knot of friends, entertaining them with a story, a wild round of laughter overbalancing him enough to send him stepping back into her.

'Oi, watch who you're shoving there, you filthy half-breed,' he slurred, drunk enough that he did not notice the huge man looming behind her and fortunately Fritha was stunned enough to prevent any retort, unused to such unwarranted abuse. Though to be fair, the strangers who normally approached her in bars planned on her being dead pretty soon afterwards, so she supposed there was little point in any _verbal_ unpleasantness.

'Now, now, lads,' cut in the barman gruffly, a tall balding man who seemed to be making up for this cranial hair loss with a huge ginger moustache, 'there's plenty of bar fer all of you.'

The drunk snorted his contempt, seizing up his drink. 'Come on, let's go down now, lads, the stink up here is clogging up my lungs.'

'I'm surprised you can smell anything over your breath,' sneered Fritha.

'_What_ did you say?'

'I don't want to hear it from you, Travit!' barked the innkeep, sternly overseeing their group's departure before he whirled to her, 'And as fer you, you want to cause any more trouble then piss off back to wherever you came from 'cause I've enough firebrands in here and I've had a gutful of 'em already.'

'He started it,' Fritha snapped, 'And if he says anything else to me, I'll be reducing the number of troublemakers in here for you by one.'

The innkeep gave a great vicious bark of laughter. 'Ha, you've grit I'll give you that, but Travit's one of Ehid's boys -best not to get on the wrong side of him, lest you end up face down in the harbour.'

'Let him try!' Minsc roared after the man, perhaps hoping he would hear him and make a return, 'He will choke out apologies with my boot upon his throat!'

Fritha snorted with a dark amusement. 'Leave it Minsc, he's not worth it and we're here _for_ the entertainment, not to provide it.'

'Entertainment?' repeated the barman, looking genuinely bewildered; he was good. Fritha nodded mildly pretending she had not noticed.

'Aye, we're staying over at the Coronet, but Lehtinan, or is it Leith as you know him? Well, anyway, he mentioned we might find the atmosphere here pleasing of an evening.'

'Did he now?' the innkeep confirmed slowly, giving the pair an appraising look, 'Well, he wouldn't say that to just anyone and I can tell you've coin enough fer it… the first fight is about to start downstairs,' he said gesturing to the door behind him, two heavily armed guards stood on either side. 'I'd head down soon if you want to get a good view; the password tonight is _Hendak_.'

'Hendak?' Fritha repeated and the innkeep grinned.

'Aye, he's an old favourite downstairs -never been beaten, so they say, though he's getting on in years now. They've paired him against some hungry young lad from Tethyr tonight. I tell you it'll be a close match but my money's still on Hendak; that old wolf's still got some fight in him yet.'

**…**

'Right, we're in,' muttered Fritha as she took another mouthful of ale, the druid behind her leaning against the pillar of the alcove Fritha and Minsc were stood in so as to better hear her. 'The password is _Hendak_. Minsc and I will go down now. You let your group and Valygar and Anomen know and follow us.'

In her peripherals, she saw Jaheira nod, Fritha smiling up at the man before her as she clapped his arm.

'Right, Minsc, shall we head down then?'

He nodded and they set off, leaving the alcove to cross for the bar, exchanging a nod with the innkeep as they headed for the stairs down, the ranger sullen enough, even considering their surroundings, for her to question him on it.

'You should have let Minsc speak to that- that _kvorisvet_!' he muttered, still frowning as they paid their entrance fee and handed in their weapons at the small counter halfway down the stairs, 'Boo says his words robbed you of your honour.'

Fritha laughed. 'Minsc, I think what little honour I have left is resilient enough to withstand a few insults from the dregs in here. Right…' she sighed as she left the stairwell, stepping down into a long low-ceilinged room and pausing to let her eyes grow accustomed to sudden darkness, the only light coming from the torches in the arena far below, the roar of the tavern above them just a rumble of the edge of her hearing.

Fritha glanced about her, the room packed with people but so much quieter than upstairs, a sense of anticipation humming low in the air. They were stood upon a wide raised platform that ran down two sides of the square pit, a row of tables set along the edge to give the best view over the arena while others hugged the wall behind, a narrow aisle left between them and Fritha could just make out Travit and his companions already sat about one a few tables down, chatting idly amongst themselves as they waited for the fight to begin. _And_, from the group of fine doublets and feathered caps gathered about the next table along, Fritha could perhaps make a guess as to the reason for the all-concealing darkness; some of Lehtinan's patrons clearly did not want to be known as such.

'Over there,' she said, pointing to an empty circular table a few paces from stairs and set against the back wall. It was large enough for all of them, the gloom removing the immediate need for subterfuge, and the pair took a seat to wait as Jaheira's group and at last, Anomen and Valygar joined them.

'So what now?' sneered Hulmeira, 'Or do you just plan to have us sit here drinking watered-down ale.'

'Patience, sister,' cautioned Minsc, surprisingly calm considering where they were and what was at stake, 'Boo says we must find our moment.'

'But-'

Emurra slammed down her cup with a loud _crack_. 'Listen to them! They want to find Elder Yundra as much as we do!'

'By Silvanus, keep your voices down; do you want everyone in here to know of it?'

'Do not snap at _me_, druid, I-'

Fritha ignored them, letting her gaze travel the gloom about her, waiting for her eyes to catch on something, waiting for the insight that would spark in her the beginnings of a plan. There was a small bar at the other end of the platform, a single server behind it lining cups upon the counter as he prepared for the long night ahead, a maid stood on the other side, idling picking a spot on her chin as she waited. Fritha let her eyes move from them to drift along the far platform and then down her own. Lehtinan may have been loathed to pay for minstrels but he certainly saw some benefit in security, guards positioned against the back wall at practically every other table and she counted six before she reached her own. Set just before the entrance to the stairwell, theirs was the last table on the platform, the guards stationed a few yards behind them more heavily armed than the others, their chain glinting softly as they shifted, and giving the plain solid door between them all the more importance for their presence.

'And now,' boomed a deep voice from the arena below, 'for tonight's first bout the Black Hatchet presents Kamir of Calimport and Yuen, the Scourge of Turmish!'

Fritha stood in her seat slightly to get a better view in the sudden roar of applause, the small portcullis at the far side of the arena slowly rising and the two men stalked through, her mind quickly putting together a rough layout of the place. If they entered from the western wall then, taking into account the layout upstairs and the proximity of the other buildings outside, it would make sense for the slaves to be held somewhere in the south of the basement and if that was the case then the entrance would likely be…

She and Jaheira seemed to turn in unison to look at the heavily guarded door behind them, the two men either side of it the only guards not watching the fight, their gaze trained straight ahead. Fritha turned back to the table to catch the druid's eye.

'What do we think?'

'That door behind us will likely lead back to where they keep the slaves. But as for how we are going to get back there.'

A cry from the arena. Fritha did not look around to see, she did not want to know, but a few of those around her could not seem to help themselves, Emurra whipping back, her paled face in her hands.

'Oh, this is terrible; we have to do something!'

'We _are_ doing something,' Aerie reminded sharply, standing suddenly. 'Come on -And you, Hulmeira!'

The elf swallowed; she felt sick, her heart trembling in her chest as she led the two witches along the platform, making sure her eyes did not stray down into the arena as she reached the small bar at the far end. It had been with a feeling of disbelief that she had presented the evidence of Yundra's capture; that such a trade as slavery could be happening in that city where she had made her home and she had felt so miserable as she had thought of her own long imprisonment and the cruelty of such people who could profit from other's lives. And then when Fritha and Jaheira had returned from Ployer…

To find such horrors not only happening, but right next door to her had been overwhelming and Aerie recalled the druid's kindness, Jaheira following her outside the Coronet, just stood beside her in the gloom of the alleyway that ran along side it, a comforting presence as she had let the tears fall. And when her crying had finished, all that was left was her anger and a burning sense that such injustice would not go unanswered while she could still draw breath. She was no longer the maimed little elf girl crying in her cage -Quayle and the others had seen to that, and now she would help these people in any way she could –even this. After all, Haer'Dalis always said she could have become an actress; now was the time to prove him right.

Aerie paid her coin as the two trays of drinks were set on the counter before her, turning to give one to Emurra and indicating the witches should follow her as she took up the other and made to return to their table, the elf almost there when she slowed her pace, letting her eyes flick to the armed man on guard at the wall next to her. Of all the guards, he had been the only one to tear his eyes from the fight to give them an appraising look as they had passed and _he_ was now their target.

She was practically level with him, the girl taking an exaggerated side step out of the way of a rather boisterous table of spectators to close the gap between them, Aerie letting her eyes linger appreciatively on the man only to catch her foot on the chair next to him. She feigned a trip, the tray she held jerking forward, cups wobbling threateningly, the elf managing to save most of them, though the tall tankard of ale toppled over, the contents coursing neatly down his leg.

'Oh, oh, I'm so sorry!' she cried, thrusting the tray at Hulmeira and pulling a handkerchief from her sleeve to press it firmly against his leg, the man chuckling slightly as he quivered under her touch.

'Ah, don't worry, love, a bit of ale never hurt no one –however cold it is. Now,' he considered as she finally straighten and he caught a glimpse of her face, 'you're not one of the usual servers.'

'Of course not!' she giggled, trying to make her smile feel less forced as she turned to carelessly toss the sodden handkerchief onto Hulmeira's tray. 'We don't work _here_.'

'Is that so,' he confirmed, eyeing the girls next to her, Aerie glad to see them at least offer him a smile, though Emurra's looked rather petrified. 'And what are three nice young ladies like you doing down here then?'

'N-Nice young ladies?' Aerie tittered affectedly, 'Well, I don't know about _that_ and as for why we're here,' she dropped her voice and leaned in slightly, 'it's a secret.'

'A secret?' he repeated, more than happy to play the game, it seemed. Aerie nodded coyly.

'Yes, though I can see you are a trustworthy sort -perhaps I _can_ tell you, if you promise not be _too_ hard on us.'

The guard was grinning broadly. 'You have my word.'

'Well, our Madam sent us over from the Three Feathers to check out the competition, but we thought it would be much more fun to sneak down here for some entertainment of our own- a group nobles and their guards paid us in, so the least we could do was to fetch them their drinks.' Aerie cocked her head slightly, gazing up at him through lowered lashes in an effort to distract him; her lie had not been long in the planning and would unlikely bear much scrutiny. 'You promise you won't tell on us, will you?'

'Now, what sort of gentleman would I be to turf nice young ladies like yourselves out on the street,' he grinned. If he suspected her story, he clearly did not care to pursue it.

Aerie allowed herself a delighted laugh, reaching up both hands to playfully hang on his arm. 'Oh, I knew you could be trusted. I'm so glad we can stay, I've never been in here before,' she glanced back to the arena with unfocused eyes, nauseated by her own lies even as she gushed, 'it's all so exciting -men locked in a struggle to the death! They look so wild and- and er, powerful!'

'Ha, those two are nothing,' the guard laughed, 'scrawny underbred bastards, only been off the ship a day and this isn't even a death match –they fight with blunted swords to draw it out. The real entertainment comes later, when they get the _proper_ gladiators out.' He pointed to the door back at their end of the platform, the two guards stood there frowning slightly. 'Just through that door is where they cage, train and otherwise keep the Black Hatchet Gladiators; fighting men as feral and bloodthirsty as the most wild of the Northern barbarians -more animal than man most of them. Now _they_ put on a proper show.'

'Goodness, really?' Aerie gasped. The guard smiled, leaning over her.

'Perhaps I can even get you back there to see them up close -if you fancy an exchange of services, that is.'

Aerie forced a giggle and batted him away playfully as a hand groped down to her rear, the man suddenly jerking to attention as a tall guard wearing a plain iron helm and a deep frown loomed over his shoulder.

'Ullic! Leith is paying you to stand guard not chat up the whores, now get upstairs, someone is kicking off about giving up their weapon.'

'Yes sir!' he saluted and he could have disappeared, the speed with which he left them.

Aerie dipped her face as she felt the commander's eyes fall to her, clearly considering how much authority he had over them, his tone lighter as he continued, 'As for you three, move along please, I have enough trouble keep the men's minds on their duties without any other _distractions_.'

He did not wait for any reply, already marching after Ullic and Aerie waited until he had disappeared into the stairwell before hurrying back to the others, heart still thundering furiously.

'Little Aerie, my sisters,' cried Minsc as they finally returned, 'you three should not have gone off alone like that –what did that man want with you?'

'It was fine Minsc, don't worry,' she reassured him, retaking her seat and just glad the Rashemi had not seen Ullic's wandering hands.

'What did you find out?' asked Jaheira, bringing them promptly back to the task at hand.

'That you were right, that door does lead to where they keep the gladiators –he even offered to take me back there, but we were interrupted.'

'Don't worry about that,' dismissed Fritha, 'you did really well, Aerie, and I would not want to send anyone back there alone. Right, time to split up again, it seems. Emurra and Hulmeira, I need you to go to the Watch post at the end of the Bridge District. Ask for Aegisfield and explain everything to him. I'm sure he can be trusted and we will likely need reinforcements soon enough.'

The two Wychlaran nodded, taking their leave and Fritha did not speak again until they were at the stairs. 'Right, Jaheira and whoever is going with you, be ready to sneak through that door.' Fritha knocked back the rest of her tankard in one long draft, turning to the man next to her with a grin. 'Okay, Minsc, ready to get back our stolen honour?'

The girl did not wait for his answer, already stood and walking to the other end of the platform towards a table of four men who were well into their cups, roaring at the fight still raging below. Her hand was dragging her chair after her and Jaheira thought she meant to join them. That _was_ until Fritha was about a pace or so from their table, the girl taking the chair in a better grip and Jaheira held her breath, Anomen and Valygar seeming to realise the instant she had, the former cursing vehemently as both men sprang to their feet. They were too late though, the chair already at its zenith above Fritha's head, the blond man she was stood behind turning just in time, his face wearing a sagging expression of disbelief as he watched it smash down on to the table before him in an explosion of splintered wood and ale.

'You mongrel BITCH!' the man roared, instantly on his feet, a fist swinging out at the girl though it never reached her, Minsc's hand suddenly about his throat and throwing him back against the railings. Anomen and Valygar were already scuffling with his companions, while the table of men next to them were suddenly on their feet as well and looking set to join in, every guard in the place rushing in to quell the brawl that had instantaneously erupted in their midst.

Jaheira glanced back to find Cernd and Aerie transfixed with the same shocked expressions she had no doubt worn, when they caught each other's eyes and the three were suddenly scrambling for the now abandoned door, Aerie unlocking it with but a whisper. And the last thing Jaheira saw before she drew it shut behind her was Fritha stood in the chaos, fragments of chair still in her hands, the girl soaked in ale and laughing wildly.

Through the door and they found themselves at the top of some plain stone steps, the long corridor that stretched before them made of the same featureless grey stone, the torches set every couple of yards throwing warm circles of light against the walls, lifting the gloom at regular intervals. Jaheira was racing down the steps, she and Cernd heading for the wooden door at the far end, Aerie hitching up her skirts as she descended after them, her heart beating wildly as the roar of the brawl they had left echoed along the corridor.

'Will they be okay?' she asked, watching the back of Jaheira's shoulders bob with a shrug, no pause to her pace.

'Most likely. I cannot imagine trouble of that sort is so uncommon in a place like this.'

A loud crash reverberated along the bare stone hallway, an unintelligible cacophony of curses and shouts echoing about them. The druid glanced back with a frown.

'Well, perhaps this might be a _little_ rougher that what they are used to.'

They had reached the door by now, the woman placing her ear to the wood for a heartbeat before opening it a crack, slightly angled eyes taking in whatever was on the other side before she finally decide it was safe enough, Jaheira letting it swing wide on a long narrow room. In fact, it was little wider than the corridor they had just left, three solid wooden doors set opposite them, a barred window in each, while another door led off to their left, a large rack of weapons stood at the other end of the room, the usual swords, axes and shields hung there alongside a trident, whip and what looked to be a thick wire net.

'Ah, more patrons come to gape at us _savages_?' came a voice from the right cell, the heavy accent doing nothing to disguise the bitterness to it, 'Well, you can just go-'

'Wait, Evad,' came another, a young albeit it drawn face suddenly pressed up against the bars of the cell before them, 'they've no guards with them; How d'you get back here?'

'Our friends started a brawl,' explained Aerie concisely.

Laughter from the leftmost cell, a fervent whispering from the others as the young man cursed, '_Umberlee's shrivelled teet!_ You're not with Lehtinan then?'

'No, we are not,' confirmed Jaheira, stepping closer though she still kept an arm's length from the door. 'We are here looking for a woman, an old Rashemi witch who may have been bought by one of your masters recently.'

'Well, she ain't here, love,' quipped someone gruffly from the leftmost cell.

'No,' reasoned Cernd, 'but we had hoped one of you may have heard something.'

Silence and then a voice, deep and slow and carrying an inflection that reminded Aerie a little of Minsc.

'Tymora smiles upon you. She is owned by Lehtinan himself. I heard him bragging to the guards of the price she will fetch. It is as my brothers say though: she is not here. But I know where he will keep a prize like that. I will tell you, but you must release the slaves here first.'

Jaheira nodded promptly, clearly anticipating this demand and casting an eye over the three cells.

'All right, but not all of you can be here.'

'No,' came the younger man eagerly, 'at this hour, those who are not fighting are kept under guard in the dormitories down the hall- there are a dozen or so men held there.'

'I see. Aerie, can you unlock these doors?'

'You are a mage? Do not waste your talent, elf,' came the bitter voice again, 'the doors are well warded against your magics.'

Jaheira sighed, impatience creeping in. 'Well, where is the _key?_'

'Through that door,' the young man answered, a scarred arm thrust through the bars as he attempted to direct her, 'at the end of the hall, past the door to the dormitories, there is the guardroom, though at this time of the evening there will only be one man in there. The jailor, Revio -idle bastard, he won't leave there unless Lehtinan or Ehid is about to see it. The keys are in there with him.'

Jaheira was already crossing to the weapons rack to take a short sword in an awkward grip, Cernd picking up a metal club with a similar frown.

'Right, Aerie, you wait here and watch the hallway back to the fighting pit -shout for us if anyone comes.'

Aerie nodded, though the pair had already turned, Jaheira cautiously approaching the door as she had done before and slipping through with Cernd to leave her alone. The elf headed back to the hallway to stand watch, the shouts from the brawl still audible though much fainter than before and she vainly wished she still had her staff with her. She had never been particularly martial with it, but it was comforting to feel that solid stave under her palm, especially there, where she could not rely on her magic if something were to go awry –lock-picking cantrips were one thing, and a thing far beneath the interest of the Cowled Wizards, but anything remotely aggressive was a risk she dared not take.

She could hear the men talking quietly behind her, though she did not turn back to engage them. Seeing them caged, knowing they would have spent the evening just waiting to fight, some even waiting to die reminded her of her own imprisonment and she could afford neither the misery nor the anger that brought her just then.

A bang as the door at the top of the stairs suddenly opened and for a moment Aerie was frozen in her dismay as she watched a guard striding loosely down the steps, chainmail glinting as he passed through the shafts of torchlight. And then she was all haste, racing to the other door to pull it open on another grey hallway.

_Just call for us_, she thought angrily, shouting as loudly as she dared as the footsteps behind her grew ever closer, the girl finally slamming the door shut and whirling to face him as the guard entered the room.

'Bloody Travit, always- Hey,' he exclaimed as he finally noticed her, thick eyebrows disappearing under a greasy mop of black hair, 'now what are you doing back here?'

'M-Me?' Aerie faltered, slowly edging sideways as she spoke, try to get past him to the door he had just marched through, 'U-Ullic let me back here, t-to see the slaves -he said to wait for him.'

The guard grinned, his leathery face twisting unpleasantly. He took a step closer.

'Oh, did he now? And just what was he having you wait for?'

Aerie's throat had gone dry, her back flush with the wall behind her as the guard seemed to grow taller by the second, the laden weapons rack mocking her from the far end of the room.

'Oh, well, I don't know, he- he didn't really say.'

'Leave her be, Warrel!' roared a voice from the nearest cell, the guard ignoring it, letting his eyes rake over her as though they were quite alone.

'Well, let's see if we can make a guess.'

'No!' she shrieked as he seized her, pinning her arms to her sides as she struggled to get her hands free, 'Get off me! I- I'm a mage, I'll-'

'You'll shut up!' Warrel spat, striking her sharply across the face, his other hand pinning her to the wall, 'Unless you want me to get my friends down here as well! Now stop-'

A flash of grey and brown and Aerie almost fell as she was suddenly released, the roar echoing over Jaheira's cry of 'Cernd!' as the man knocked the guard clear off his feet. Aerie staggered away, starting as she retreated into Jaheira, both women transfixed by the sight of Cernd crouched, his back to them and club abandoned to the floor beside him as he tore and ripped at the man beneath with long clawed fingers.

The guard was no longer moving, blood slowly pooling from out beneath him, running in narrow rivulets along the cracks between the smooth stone flags. Cernd was still hunched over him though, his back rising and falling as he panted heavily, Aerie risking a glance to Jaheira before she ventured, 'Cernd?'

He straightened instantly, whirling back to them and Aerie drew a sharp breath, his face feral with a snarl that revealed elongated teeth when he seemed to sag, all the colour draining from his skin and if Jaheira had not started forward to catch his arm, Aerie suspected he would have collapsed.

Jaheira shifted, trying to redistribute his dead weight as her knees began to tremble. 'Cernd, are you…?'

The druid had his eyes closed, leaning heavily on the woman next to him as he muttered breathlessly.

'I heard what he said… such anger… just like the Hells… Just, just give me a moment to collect…'

'Here,' Jaheira snapped, the ring of keys jangling merrily as they sailed through the air. Aerie caught them awkwardly, fumbling through them as she crossed to the nearest door and soon they were joined by four others, a brawny dark-skinned Calimshite, two leaner tanned men who looked more local and finally a broad stern warrior who was well on in his years, lines and scars merging as one on his worn craggy face, pale hair an even mix of grey and blond.

'Friends, I am Hendak,' he announced gravely, 'and I am in your debt. Wait here,' he continued, already at the weapons rack handing out swords to the men jostling about him, 'We go now to free our brothers and _then_ we will show the dogs of this place a real fight.'

xxx

Fritha struggled in the guard's grip, just enough to indicate she was displeased but not enough to earn herself a clout and she was _certainly_ making no attempt to free herself and give the man an excuse to draw his weapon. In fact, the girl was quite comfortable being man-handled across the tavern towards the doors, the patrons about her laughing and jeering as she merrily traded insults with the apoplectic Travit who was being dragged out just behind her, their surrounding companions struggling similarly as both her own and the pirate's group were forcibly ejected from the premises.

'You half-breed whore, I'll gut you and feed your innards to my dogs!'

'Ha! Your threats are nothing, you flaccid milksop! I'll slit your throat and paint this inn with your blood!'

'Why, you skinny, plague-riddled-'

'The slaves have escaped!' screamed a voice from the stairwell they had just been dragged through, a whey-faced guard charging up the stairs and diving out of the way of the stampede of people behind him, a stream of patrons pouring from stairwell to head for the front doors. 'They've escaped, they're killing everyone!'

'_Bane's Arse!_' shouted the helmed guard who was busy with his friend trying to keep the struggling Minsc contained, the whole tavern suddenly in an uproar as everyone charged past them for the exit, the man still trying to give his orders over the chaos. 'Peritt, get over to the Coronet and tell Lehtinan. The rest of you get down there and help subdue the bastards!'

Fritha felt the hands at her shoulders suddenly disappear, the guards clearly having better things to worry about now than their petty brawl, though Travit was of a different mind, the man snatching a knife from an abandoned plate on the table next to him and whirling back to her, a wild glint to his eyes.

'I'm going to take you're ears as a trophy, _bitch!_'

'You think?' snapped Fritha, seizing an empty wine bottle by the neck and smashing it down on the edge of table next to her. Apart from severely denting the wood, nothing happened. 'Oh.'

Travit laughed, flipping the knife in his hand with the precise air of one who knew what they were doing, the blade slicing downward as he lunged at her, only to collapse at her feet, Fritha shielding her face from the flying splinters as Minsc smashed a chair across his back.

'Thanks, Minsc,' she gasped, whirling about for Travit's companions, but the room was empty, Anomen casting about him as she had while Valygar stood over the prone form of the one he had just punched out, the other two having fled with the rest of the patrons, it seemed, no desire to face either them or the rebel gladiators.

A scream pierced the general roar that was echoing up the stairwell, snapping Fritha's attention to it in an instant.

'Come on!'

They raced for the stairs, reaching the landing halfway down for Fritha to leap over the counter, the girl just throwing a jumble of weapons onto the surface, Minsc's face lighting with a wild joy as he was, by luck, reunited with his greatsword.

'Now Minsc and Boo are whole again! Vile slavers meet your end!' he roared, turning to charge down the remaining stairs, the first guard turning back to greet his reinforcements only to meet Minsc, a sword thrust through him before he had time to scream, Fritha, Anomen and Valygar just grabbing what weapons they could and piling after him as the Rashemi pressed the fight down into the basement.

Fritha was the last of them as they entered, her position on the steps giving her a view over the top of the battle and she could see Cernd, Jaheira and Aerie by the door to her left, a shield of gladiators before them fighting the ever decreasing group of guards. Aerie was hovering over Cernd, the man looking pale and unwell as he leaned back against the doorframe seemingly chanting under his breath, Jaheira in front of them both, a sword held in an unfamiliar grasp just in case the line before them was broken.

But with enemies on both sides, the few guards left standing were soon overwhelmed, their bodies littering the darkened platform and a stillness fell over the arena. Fritha did not know what she would have expected from the freed gladiators; laughter or shouts of triumph perhaps, but no one seemed willing to make much noise at all. She watched as the slaves all moved about each other, some even weeping quietly as they did so, the men embracing fiercely or clapping each other on the arms and shoulders in a sort of choked joy that went beyond words, Aerie and Jaheira moving among them tending the few wounded, Valygar and Minsc going to speak to Cernd, though Anomen had concerns of his own, the cleric whirling instantly on her.

'Are you trying to get yourself _killed?_'

Fritha had expected this outburst though, squaring up to the knight with a defiant look.

'They needed a distraction and I gave them one.'

'By walking over there unarmed and starting a _brawl_?'

'Oh, don't start. None of them were armed either -the risk was minimal.'

'Indeed, and so why could you not _deign_ to inform us for your plan beforehand and let one of _us_ to go in your stead?'

Fritha snorted her scorn. 'So, I should have just sent _you_ over there to oh so politely call him out, should I? The guards would have been on you both before you had even finished calling his mother a slattern.'

Anomen drew back looking furious. 'Is- is this all some _jest_ to you?'

'No,' Fritha snapped, 'but now I look back on it, it _was_ pretty funny -that look on Travit's face when he turned to see the chair about a foot from his table -the realisation that there was just nothing he could do.'

'Yes, very similar to the feeling that tore through _me_ as I watched his fist fly towards your _face_!'

Jaheira frowned; this needed to end and soon, the woman straightening from the arm she was examining to bark, 'Enough, you two.'

The pair ignored her. Fritha was scarlet, seeming to spit the words with every ounce of venom she possessed.

'Anomen, I will not say this again: you are not my father, you are not my love and the time when I needed someone to rescue me ended the moment I stepped from that dungeon!'

'You- you _thoughtless_, _cold-hearted_-!'

'I said that's enough!' Jaheira snapped, leaving the half tied bandage in the hands of one of his friends to finish off as she turned back to the room, 'There are more important things!'

The two glowered at each other but said no more, Jaheira turning immediately to Hendak.

'Well, we did as you asked, now it is time for your part in this agreement. You said you would tell us where they are likely holding the woman we seek,' she reminded, silently praying to every god listening that is had not been a understandable falsehood. But the man nodded fervently, his grin broad, wearing the cuts and blood he bore like every one was a proud symbol of his new found freedom.

'Indeed, friends, but I will do more than just tell you, I and my brothers will accompany you there. In exchange for our freedom we could do no less and I expect our help will be needed. You have summoned the Watch, yes, but the news of this rebellion will travel much faster than they and your friend and all the slaves they hold will be in danger for it.' He paused, his look suddenly grave, 'Ehid and Lehtinan would murderer them rather than leave witnesses to their crimes. We must strike before they can go into hiding and escape altogether; it is there, in their stronghold where I was held when they brought me to this city so long ago and it is there we will find them now.'

'And where is that?' asked Aerie.

'I could not tell you -I have not left the pit in over a decade. But I know of the secret way they long ago used to bring slaves to this place -before the right people were bribed and they could move them freely through the streets. I am the only one left who remembers those days, but the passage is there still. Come, time is our enemy and retribution is at hand.'

They left the inn in the capable hands of a half-dozen gladiators, the men instructed to wait for the Watch and guard the tavern against any slavers who would return to try and retake the place as the group retrieved their weapons and Hendak led them and the rest of the slaves down into the backroom room they had just burst so violently from but moments before.

And there it was behind the weapons racks in the back of the guardroom, a small covered hatchway about the size of a man if he bent double: a neat little escape route for any slavemasters who had suddenly found themselves raided by the Watch and trapped in their own basement. Hendak used his blade to prise it open, removing the thick wooden panel to reveal a set of steps which lead down into a narrow passage, though it opened out after a few paces, joining what looked to be a section of disused sewer tunnels, the whitewash line painted halfway up the wall keeping them on the correct path and it was not long before Hendak brought them to a halt before a set of stone steps, Jaheira and the aged gladiator moving up to investigate further, the rest of them crowded in darkness to wait.

Anomen shifted restlessly, his head bowed in the confines of the tunnel, the air musty where it had been stirred up after so long. Minsc was next to him looking unusually focused, brow furrowed with a permanent frown, while behind them, Aerie, Valygar and the still wan Cernd were stood in amongst the gladiators, Aerie's cheek red with a graze while Cernd looked as though he was fighting a serious cold, the man pale and sweating as he leaned upon his staff. They were talking quietly, Aerie's face pensive with a concerned frown as Cernd shook his head at whatever she had been trying to convince him.

The knight turned back to the tunnel before him, his eyes catching instantly on a familiar mass of ginger curls just ahead of him in the press and he felt his previous anger swell once more. Foolish, reckless girl! She did not care for him and she cared little more for herself, it seemed. Anomen felt his jaw clench in his frustration, the girl the object of such adoration and anger both until he felt torn apart by it. She looked tired in the faint glow of the werelights and he remembered she had yet to sleep, the girl clearly thinking herself unobserved as she enjoyed a private moment, leaning her head against the wall next to her looking drained and bleak. And then Jaheira called to her quietly from their head, and the determined frown was back, the way parting silently before her as the gladiators moved from her path.

'Here,' whispered Hendak, the man crouched as the tunnel narrowed with the steps, 'this opens on to their basement -and the slave pens.'

Fritha let a hand run lightly over the wood, knocking lightly on it to glance back to them.

'It's hollow, some sort of cabinet or chest, I imagine. Wait,' she continued, setting her ear to it, the girl drawing back after a moment, paled and hushed, 'I just heard a door slam –some people are coming down into the basement and they sound armed.'

'_What?'_ roared Minsc, suddenly furious, the man beginning to physically tremble as his anger rose. Fritha glanced heavenward for the briefest instant.

'Oh, Hells! Everyone be ready for a fight!' she shouted down to the rest of them, the need for quiet about to be made completely redundant as Hendak set his shoulder to the cabinet, Fritha doing the same.

'Ready? On three…'

**…**

'Faster! Ehid's ship is waiting. You, open that one and begin _removing the evidence_. The witch is prize enough to keep, we'll take her with us. Be ready with the drug when I open-'

An almighty crash cut short his order though, Lehtinan whirling back as the large cabinet was suddenly toppled forward, a stream of armed men pouring from the opening it had concealed. The reek of unwashed bodies was almost overpowering, a sudden clamour rising up from the long metal cages that lined the dank stone walls, the slaves within all shouting and striking at the bars that held them.

'What? _Hendak?'_ Lehtinan sending a horrified glance to the tall Turmian pirate next to him, the group of guards they were stood within looking just as dismayed as the Hatchet's most infamous gladiator stood un-caged and furious before them.

'Death take you, slaver!' Hendak roared, the man charging headlong into the group, Fritha on his heels and shouting orders over the sudden uproar as room exploded about them.

'Cernd, Evad, protect the slaves – Anomen and Aerie stay by the tunnel, guard our escape –and someone block the stairs, cut off their retreat.'

Anomen took up a position before the tunnel mouth as ordered, two guards already before him fighting to get to the escape route at his back, the knight protecting it and the elf behind him both as Aerie called upon her magics, seemingly unconcerned now about any attention from the Cowled Wizards, the elf clearly incensed by the horrors before them. Anomen turned taking the shorter man's blow on his shield's edge, knocking the blade back and almost disarming him, his other hand and the mace it held swinging out to block the long-haired guard's short sword.

Across the room, Valygar was defending Minsc before a cell door, a large rune glowing upon the wood, the ranger setting a heavy boot against the padlocked bar and taking it from the wall with a few stout kicks, the door swinging open to reveal an elderly woman who looked anything but frail, dark eyes snapping instantly to her captors as she began to intone her first spell.

A small group of gladiators had managed to secure the stairs, Fritha and Jaheira fighting Ehid and what looked to be a couple of his pirates while Hendak had been joined by Valygar, Minsc and the newly freed witch, the group locked in a fierce battle with Lehtinan and his bodyguards.

Anomen snapped his attention back to his own fight, bringing his shield up and forcing the shorter guard's blade aside, the man's neck snapping back with a satisfying crack as his mace swung up to connect with his jaw. He dropped where he stood, a large half-orc who had been fighting at the stairs leaving his fellows there to fill the breach. Anomen moved to block, the half-orc wielding his warhammer with force enough to jar the knight's shoulder as he took the blow on his shield, while at the same time keeping the other guard on the defensive with a wide sweep of his mace.

Behind him, Aerie's face was lit with furious anger as she released a bright surge of energy into a cornered group of slavers. And he could understand her ire, fury surging through him as he blocked another hammer blow. By Helm, how he hated that city sometimes, with its corruption and its poverty. How he could hate that life; his father a drunken tyrant, his sister stolen away just when she had been in her bloom, and Fritha- his infuriating infatuating Fritha, always burdened with troubles he could do _nothing_ to allay.

The long-haired guard was edging sideways, sword held low and Anomen knew he was attempting to get around his defences, the man's face suddenly stricken as he caught his foot on the corpse of his friend. The stumble was slight but Anomen saw his chance, the half-orc already swinging back his hammer to draw his attack and for a moment time seemed to stop as Anomen made his decision. The mace swung out with all the hatred and frustration he possessed and the guard fell dead, Anomen turning to see the opening his attack had left, the warhammer swinging not for him but the elf stood behind. There was no time to block it with his shield, the blow likely strong enough to break his arm at that angle and he turned instead, thrusting out his mace to catch the hammer against the hilt as it swung in. But the force too great to redirect, the hammer sliding from the end of his weapon and his felt his whole body constrict as the blow landed on his chest.

'_Anomen!_'

Aerie's spell released with her cry, the knight trying to focus through the blur of pain as white blue fire engulfed the half-orc and there was a thud through the floorboards under him as his opponent fell too. Anomen was fighting for breath, every one he managed to draw agony. Aerie was shouting again, unfamiliar feet pounding about him and suddenly Fritha was knelt at his side screaming for a cloak, the only thing in focus as the rest of the room swam, just a chaos of noise and colour in the blinding white lights that were flashing before his eyes, pain searing through his chest as though he had been split in two.

Hands were fumbling at his breastplate, Fritha still at his side chattering feverishly.

'Just hold on, Anomen, please, just-'

He went to say her name, blood bubbling up between his lips as he tried to form the sound and for one awful moment she was staring straight down at him, terror dancing in those wide dark eyes, before he at last lost consciousness.

xxx

Aerie stepped down into the noisy tavern, the common room bustling with people all drinking and laughing, children running about the place and clambering under tables as they played. The street beyond the windows was dark, the twilight made all the darker by the bright lamplight. She would not normally eat this late, but she had needed to change first and though she was tired from the day's trials her wash had refreshed her, the clean robes feeling pleasant and crisp as she moved across the room, pausing to let two young boys play a brief game of tag about her knees before they were tearing off again. She smiled, the girl scanning about the packed tables looking for a familiar face. Valygar was stood at the bar talking to an older woman, her silver teeth winking as she smiled and Aerie considered going to join them when a large scarred hand raised from the throng to beckon to her, Minsc and the two young witches standing respectfully as she approached, the old woman, Yundra, sending her smile from her seat.

'Greetings, young elf, will you sit with us?'

'Well, thank you,' Aerie answered, quite caught out by her cordiality, Minsc smiling at her as she sank into the nearest chair though he said nothing, Emurra already hurrying to set a cup at her hand and serve her some ale from the jug in the centre.

'We were just speaking of my timely rescue,' continued Yundra, 'I did wonder if I would be seeing the two of you again. Emurra and Hulmeira were sensible to go and fetch help when I did not return.'

'You taught us wisely, Elder,' demurred Hulmeira, Emurra nodding fervently.

'We were so worried for you, Elder!'

Yundra smiled kindly and patted the girl's hand.

'I am no worse off for my ordeal and now many slaves have found their freedom and many evil men have found their deaths and I feel you two have learnt from this trial as well -we all owe much to these outsiders,' she finished with a respectful nod to Aerie.

'Ah, yes,' the elf faltered, feeling rather on show, 'if you don't mind me asking, you are a powerful mage; how did they mange to capture you?'

'Too easily, I fear!' the woman exclaimed with a depreciating bark of laughter. 'I was here investigating the disappearance of the last witch who visited this city. I found no sign of her, but I did discover the more tarnished side to this City of Coin –and, unfortunately, they found _me_ too. I sent out correspondence to my few contacts within the city and when a messenger drew me from my bed three nights ago with a reply I was too eager to perform the usual rituals on what he delivered and I was caught. A Wychlaran is a prize – I heard they already had some Thayvian all lined up to purchase me. You did well to find me in time -_both_ of you,' she added with a pointed look to the ranger next to her and Minsc flushed. 'The council of the Wychlaran will hear of your efforts here, brother. I cannot pretend to know how they will judge but when the time comes I will speak on your behalf.'

The ranger said nothing, just bowed his head with a reverent joy and the old woman smiled, making to rise.

'Now, if you will excuse us, I fear this inn will have little by way of free rooms spare tonight and we should return to our own lodgings; you will escort us, brother,' she finished, her curt order sending Minsc scarlet with suppressed pride.

'Yes, good Elder.'

And Aerie smiled as they took their leave, Minsc towering over the women as he followed them sombrely to the door.

'I see Minsc is now within the witches' good graces.'

Aerie glanced up to see Jaheira stood behind her chair, her armour removed, replaced by a clean brown tunic, her hairline still damp from where she had likely washed her face.

'Yes,' Aerie confirmed as the druid took a seat, 'Yundra says she will speak on his behalf when he returns to Rashemen, so that is something at least. How is Cernd?'

Jaheira shrugged, pulling a clean cup before her and reaching for the jug. 'The same. In his room still meditating; I cannot tell whether it is helping or whether he is just using it as an excuse to avoid speaking about what happened.'

Aerie frowned, remembering his wild look in the slave pit; his teeth; the blood.

'Do you think he could have turned on us?'

'No,' said Jaheira firmly, 'but had he changed completely, he would have likely had less control over his actions, especially if he had been angered.'

'The moon will be full in a couple of days,' offered Aerie quietly.

'Yes…' agreed Jaheira, sighing as she made her decision, 'We will have to inform Fritha. Did she come down with you?'

Aerie turned from the joyous chaos about her, her eyes drawn to the staircase behind, the steps rising up to be lost in the shadows. 'No, she is where we left her.'

xxx

Anomen opened his eyes, the first thing he saw in the gloom of that darkened room a blur of copper at his bedside, Fritha's voice coming soft and slightly hoarse.

'_Lo, and he awakens_… How are you feeling?'

'Stiff,' he murmured as he tried to straighten and gasping as the pain flared through his chest, Fritha's hand immediately at his arm.

'Oh, oh, be careful, you were hurt quite badly.'

Anomen closed his eyes, sinking back into the pillows and letting his mind go over the last things he could remember; their argument, her melancholy look in the press of that tunnel, the fight with the slavers… Anomen winced as he watched his folly play again behind his eyes.

'I made a mistake. I should not have-'

'No, no, none of that,' Fritha cut in, her voice still soft though there was a firmness behind it now, 'battles are chaotic enough and it only takes the slightest lapse in judgement. No one blames you.'

Anomen sighed inwardly; _he_ blamed himself.

'What happened?' he asked, if only to take his mind from it, 'Did you rout the slavers?'

'Well, we killed Lehtinan but Ehid managed to escape,' she admitted, adding quickly '-but most of the slavers were killed or captured –the Watch are still scouring the city for the others. _And_, most importantly, all of the slaves were freed. Hendak even led a group to the brothel next door -just marched up the stairs and said that any woman who did not wish to be there could leave then with no repercussions. Some left, some stayed but at least everyone was given a choice in the end. He's given the ones that left jobs here.'

'Here?' repeated Anomen, wondering if he had understood her correctly, 'At the Coronet?'

'Oh, didn't I mention that part?' the girl laughed brightly, 'Hendak said that Lehtinan owed him after profiting from his misery for so long, which no one could refute, so he's taken the Coronet for his own as recompense. Bernard was so shocked when he just arrived and told him -the man has worked for Lehtinan all this time and even _he_ hadn't a clue what he had been caught up in.'

Anomen sighed again and deeply this time, the feelings of failure pressing on him; he hated that city sometimes.

'My throat is dry, will you help me to sit?'

'Ah, well, perhaps, you shouldn't-' Fritha hesitated, but he had already began to heave himself more upright, enjoying the pain that flared though his body in his shame, and she had no choice but to fly in, an arm under his back as she tried to support his weight, her voice breaking as she cried, 'Anomen, _please_, I asked you to be careful!'

Anomen let her fuss for a moment, shifting the pillows to better support him before she turned to fill his cup from the jug on the dresser at the end of the bed. He took it from her, drinking it slowly by small sips if only because his breathing was shallow, his chest constricted by the tight bandages. Fritha hovered at his side all the while, the girl taking the cup from him as he finished, her hand lightly brushing his and her frown was instant, though seemingly not for the usual reasons.

'You feel warm –I should fetch Jaheira.'

'No, no, it is fine, Fritha, just open the window.'

'But…' she protested weakly, seemingly unable to finish her objection, the girl uncharacteristically meek as she moved to open the window, cold air suddenly stirring his hair, sweeping like silk over his bare arms and shoulders. A silence fell between them, Fritha still lingering at window and he could see the distinctive outline of her face, a black silhouette against the pale twilit sky. Anomen leaned back into the pillows once more and closed his eyes, letting cool air move about him as he listened to the low rumble of the tavern beneath.'

'Downstairs seems rather raucous.'

'Yes, it seems everyone is in the mood to celebrate,' Fritha agreed as she made to return to the chair at his side, 'Hendak has already taken to his new life as a barkeep and declare all the drinks are on the house. Though he is making sure things do not get _too_ rowdy. After the battle, we left with you and Minsc and Cernd stayed behind with Hendak and other gladiators to free the rest of the slaves. Apparently, many of them were children.' Fritha laughed gently, 'Downstairs is like a playground. Some will be returned to their homes, others who are either too young to know where they were taken from, or who have no parents are being collected by the Illmaterans tomorrow.'

'You do not have to stay, you know,' Anomen assured her, 'I am sure you would rather be down in the tavern.'

She smiled slightly. 'I am fine here.'

Anomen swallowed, the silence they were sat in giving his mind time to dwell on things other than his shame. He knew what Fritha would be thinking, knew what conclusions she would likely draw from his _brush with death_: that the turmoil of their ongoing relations had affected him enough to colour his judgement at the most vital of moments and he knew just as vehemently that he did not want her to blame herself.

'Fritha, I- I do not want you to take this- this incident as proof that any relationship between us would merely put me in more danger. I know we argued beforehand, but my will and my temper are my own and I should have known better than to take my feelings into the arena of battle… Fritha, I still would wish- I still want-'

'Anomen, _please!_' she interrupted in a cry, looking stricken, 'You cannot know how awful it was to watch you lying here, bleeding while Jaheira and Aerie flew over you, and then when they dismissed me and I was just sat on the stairs outside waiting, all the time going over and over all the unkind things we had just said to each other. And with our lives becoming more fraught with every moment, I really don't have the strength to keep refusing you and each time I do only compounds our misery. _Please_, Anomen, let this go.'

He could not see her very well, but her voice was high and wavering and her breathing had deepened and he had the most horrible feeling she was trying not to cry.

'All right,' he breathed, the previous pain in his chest nothing compared to the ache within it now, 'As you would have it, my lady.'


	74. The piece of the grave

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

**The piece of the grave**

'So Valygar _killed_ his own parents?' exclaimed Fritha, hardly able to believe it herself, 'Good grief!'

'Indeed,' came Anomen in stern agreement, 'though he _did_ stress the fact that his mother had been corrupted.'

Fritha snorted half-heartedly, still too shocked to be truly scornful. 'Yes, but by _whose_ assessment of the thing? All I can say is, Aerie had better watch out, especially now she's studying again. Did you know that Elder Yundra let her sit in on a lesson with Emurra and Hulmeira before the Wychlaran departed? I couldn't say who was more proud, Aerie or Minsc! I don't think I've seen him without a grin since they left.'

Anomen smiled as well, the two returning their attention to their path, the buildings becoming grander as they left the slums, travelling south towards the temple district, the streets quiet as dusk fell about them. It had been a pleasant couple of days, everyone split up, going about the city on their own errands as things slowly returned to normality. Anomen had been under strict orders from both Aerie and Jaheira not to leave his bed for any length of time and Fritha had taken it upon herself to keep him company when she was not at the theatre or checking in on the rescued children at the Illmaterans, the girl keeping him informed of the comings and goings outside his room or playing cards, sometimes the pair just sat in silence as she embroidered and he read, their relationship returned to the innocuous friendship it had always been.

But he was well enough to leave his room now and that afternoon had found their group reunited about a table in the common room, taking a late meal and discussing Deril and their on-going investigation. Valygar had finally unearthed a list of contacts that his mother had made back at his estate, the directory comprised of local alchemists, apothecaries and other less reputable sorts who were in a place to supply the exotic and sometimes macabre ingredients required by those wishing to practise the necromantic arts -and _without_ any unnecessary questions. The last day or so had been spent making inquiries and narrowing it down to something more manageable, the remaining few names split between them that noon and the group had paired off to follow what leads they had left.

Fritha and Anomen were heading for an apothecary over near the Promenade who had a reputation for supplying less common ingredients, though the knight had requested they make a minor detour so he could visit the temple and give thanks for surviving yet another battle. Fritha had joked he should start to ask if Helm couldn't just help him to avoid them.

'Oh,' said Anomen suddenly, as though he had just remembered it, 'I wished to thank you for having my breastplate mended.'

Fritha smiled and shook her head. 'It's not me you should thank -I just took it over to the Order. I was quite lucky really: young Squire Marc recognised me as I was stood looking rather lost in the courtyard and fetched Sir Harn for me, and you know how he is. We took tea in the kitchens while Marc took your cuirass over to the smiths, so it was hardly a chore.'

'Speaking of which, you visited the theatre again this morning, did you not? How was it?'

'Oh, fine, fine. I spent the majority of it chatting with Mayen and Wynn. Wicked girls! Oghma only knows how they got on to the subject, but a few days ago the actresses were all complaining about how being on the stage made them very conscious of their figures and Zeran had apparently started boasting about being able to eat whatever he likes and never putting on an ounce. So Mayen and Wynn have been secretly taking in his costume by a fraction every evening these last couple of days and teasing him about how he is starting to look portly. The poor vain man is apparently frantic –he is refusing to touch anything remotely sweet and has even given up his customary mead in favour of white grass tea.'

Fritha was laughing merrily, Anomen joining her in a smile.

'It is never a dull moment at your theatre, is it? I forgot to ask before, but did you change the ending of the play?'

Fritha was still laughing as she admitted, 'No. Higgold seemed to think it was enough of an offence to change the prose. I imagine he would have spent the rest of the production prostrate before the shrine to Milil had I had them act out such heresy as a _revised ending_.'

Anomen snorted with a mild amusement. 'Perhaps that is for the best, my lady, the nobility of Athkatla are intransigent at best.'

Fritha nodded and smiled. She had noticed she was 'my lady' again now; it made her slightly sad in a way she never could have anticipated.

They rounded the final corner, the great stone temple to Helm about halfway along the street standing proudly over the surrounding temples and shrines, Anomen opening the door and stepping back to allow her through before following her inside and nearly walking straight into her where she had halted directly before the doorway, the girl looking as though she was tempted to retreat back further as High Watcher Oisig spotted them, the grave man unusually flighty as he crossed the chamber to greet them.

'Ah, Brother Anomen and the Lady Fritha, I am so pleased you have come, indeed that you have _both_ come this day, for I understand we own much of our good fortune to you, my lady.'

Fritha forced a smile, glancing to Anomen to see if the knight had any more idea than her as to what the High Watcher could be referring.

'Oh, ah, really?'

Oisig smiled. 'Why, yes -Brother Anomen said you were the one who convinced Sir Sarles to take our commission.'

'Sarles?' Fritha repeated, going pink as she glanced about her warily, 'He's not here is he?'

'No, my lady, but his servants made delivery of his masterpiece just this morning. We are to have a grand unveiling in the glory of Helm's name this coming tenth day service as part of the St Aldulphi's Day celebrations, though I would be proud to let you both have the honour of seeing it first.'

Oisig moved to go, clearly expecting them to follow, leading the pair to a small circular antechamber just off from the main room, a stone plinth unevenly draped in a large white canvas looming before them.

'Well, I shall leave you both to it,' Oisig muttered, shutting the door to leave them quite alone. Anomen looked to Fritha, eyebrows raised as he reached out and removed the cover in one smooth sweep. And there it was, the pale marble image of a woman, flowing stone robes rippling in some ethereal breeze, her hair wild about her in a halo of swirling tresses while a slender arm was held out and pointing, her fine face screwed up as she harangued some unseen transgressor.

They both stood staring up at it in stunned silence when the chamber was suddenly ringing with Anomen's laughter.

'Anomen,' Fritha reproached, hiding her eyes beneath a hand even as she smiled herself, her face scarlet.

'I think it wonderful,' he enthused, still grinning widely as his eyes studied it, 'the likeness is even better than the one in Trademeet.'

'Oh, don't,' she laughed, moving to take the canvas from his hand, 'here, help me put the cover back on.'

Anomen obliged her, though he was still laughing to himself as they left the temple a good while later and Fritha wondered if he had even managed to stop whilst he had made his prayers, the knight only just able to suppress his amusement long enough to bid farewell to the High Watcher as the pair left.

'Right,' sighed Fritha, as they turned to walk north back up the narrow raised street, the canal next to them grey under the cloudy sky, 'Valygar said the apothecary had a shop on Leam Lane –that's four streets south of the Promenade, isn't it? …Anomen, will you stop laughing!'

The apothecary's shop was a dark green fronted building with a single large window that ran the length of it, though dusty green curtains actually prevent all but the tallest from seeing into the gloomy room inside. The street it was set in seemed nice enough though, two lines of terraced-buildings that held a jumble of houses and shops. His prayers had kept him a while, the days so much shorter now, and it was getting on for the evening. A tall woman was locking the door to the milliner's opposite while further down the street a stout balding clockmaker was bringing in his canopy, Fritha and Anomen silently watching all from the mouth of the alleyway that ran alongside the apothecary's holding.

'Right,' said Fritha, turning back to the man she was stood next to, 'I'll go in first; give me a moment or so and then come in afterwards with the story we agreed.'

Anomen nodded, the girl disappearing around the corner and an instant later came the rattle of the door and the merry chime of a bell followed by a polite if rather flustered voice, as though customers were something of a rarity for him.

'Oh, a p-pearl to you, miss, but I was just about to close for the-'

'Please, you must help me!' interrupted Fritha's haughty plea, though the tale behind her spontaneous distress was cut off by the slam of the door.

Anomen leaned back against the wall, continuing to watch the few people walk along the street next to him, all seemingly focused on their own destinations and paying him no mind. The milliner had disappeared now, as had the portly clockmaker, Anomen's eyes drawn to a simply dressed couple walking arm in arm, the man's clothes and hair still dusty with plaster, his empty hod resting over one shoulder while the woman at his side smiled and nodded as he spoke. Anomen turned back to stare at the dull brick wall opposite. It had seemed an age ago he had made his promise in that darkened room, the words easy to give, though he was finding them a lot more difficult to feel and Fritha's apparent gladness these last couple of days had been both encouraging and disheartening as he watched a semblance of her old cheerful manner returning and he was forced to recall the reason.

Anomen sighed to himself and straightened. It was likely long enough now for whatever lie Fritha had concocted to have taken affect, the chime of the doorbell announcing his entrance as he strode in to the centre of the shop. It was smaller than it seemed from the outside, the dusty shelves of jars and caddies that stretched floor to ceiling somewhat oppressive, something not helped by the sharp acrid smell that was emanating from the small caldron that was bubbling on the narrow counter that ran halfway along the back wall.

Fritha was in the far corner, the confirmed actress sending him a teary eyed glare before whipping back to dab her nose on her sleeve and continue examining large jars of what looked to be frogspawn as the woolly-haired old man who had been hovering nervously at her shoulder immediately whirled to greet him.

'Oh, sir,' he came as he hobbled over to him, trying to smooth out his long white beard and black robes both, 'I am afraid I was just about to close. If-'

'Not a problem,' Anomen cut in sternly, 'I was not here on business.'

'Oh, well, perhaps-'

'I am here as a representative of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart. The City understands that your reputation as a merchant could be ruined if the Watch were to be seen visiting your premises so the Order was asked to send someone over to investigate matters more discreetly. There have been complaints, Master Apothecary, from some of your neighbours.'

'Com- Complaints?' the old man stuttered, his pale wrinkled face flushing, fingers moving to play nervously with the wispy ends of his beard.

'Indeed, some citizen's have raised concerns over certain clientele visiting the area -late night deliveries and the like.'

'What? Why- why that is preposterous!' the man scoffed, genuinely outraged; whatever illegal activities he _was_ engaged in did not lie there it seemed. 'Why, I cannot believe- who was it? That old fiddle-faddle, Eideous? He was always jealous of my business acumen. That old clockmaker couldn't make a river run, let alone a timepiece.'

'Well, I fear all complaints must be investigated,' Anomen pressed, keeping his gaze boring down at the old man as in his peripherals he watched Fritha slowly edge her way behind the counter. 'Since they _are_ groundless you should have nothing to worry about.'

The apothecary was looking nervous again. 'Oh, I- I see, well, I, of course, have nothing to hide, though I do not like to think of the Order wasting their time on the petty grudges between simple merchants. Perhaps we could come to some arrangement-' he offered, half-turned as though he was about to fetch something from the counter behind him.

'Are you offering me a _bribe_, sir?' Anomen rumbled furiously, Fritha's face awash with relief as the old man instantly whipped back to stutter his objections.

'No, no, certainly not! Merely wishing to show you and the Order and- and the citizens you serve that I am a respectable businessman,' he assured, his stooped form even more bowed as he wheeled and crawled. 'As you can see I have many rare ingredients which others would have trouble to supply, ingredients in much demand for salves and antidotes to help the sick and wounded. Perhaps I could make arrangements to supply your Order at a reduced cost.'

Anomen raised an eyebrow as Fritha rose from behind the counter and began edging back out, her hands busy securing something under her cloak.

'Hmm, you seem an honest man to offer the city this aid. I will speak to my superiors of this, in the meantime-'

'_Excuse_ me,' interrupted an imperious voice, Fritha stood behind them blotchy faced and scowling once more, hands clutching a large jar labelled _salamander eyes,_ 'but I wish to buy something -I _was_ here first.'

Anomen and the apothecary concluded their talk with little more than a farewell, the knight waiting in the alley for Fritha to reappear, the girl back to her previous cheer and merrily swinging a small linen bag as she rounded the corner.

'Did you obtain what you required, my lady?'

The girl nodded. 'Four ounces of salamander eyes _and_,' she stalled fishing a small slim book from her pocket which had been considerably fattened by all the random scraps of paper stuffed between its pages, 'one receipt book. This should give us some clue as to who his usual customers are. Come on,' she trilled, setting off down the street, 'let's see what the others have found.'

xxx

Jaheira felt her nostrils twitch, the cold air somehow making the reek of fish and stale urine even more pungent as she walked the narrow street, Cernd at her side, the tall ramshackle houses that hemmed them in swathing the lane in deep shadows that seemed at odds with the amber gull-strewn sky that arced just above the rooftops, bright with the sunset that was alighting the harbour but a few streets away. She and Cernd had been deemed the most suitable to speak with one of Valygar's least approachable contacts: a grave robber by the name Masid who had apparently supplied his mother with the bones, dead flesh and other bounties of the graveyard, the only words next to his name on the list Valygar had unearthed, the name of a tavern situated in the rougher end of the docks, and so there they were.

Jaheira pointed to the narrow lane that led away to their left. 'Is this the way?'

'The next one I think,' came the man next to her, gesturing to the following turning with his staff and the pair set off once more. Cernd had been remarkably calm about the slow progress they had been making concerning their investigations into Deril, especially since the three nights of the full moon were now upon them.

But perhaps that was merely what he wished her to believe, the man spending nearly all of his time alone in his room meditating and for her part, Jaheira could not bring herself to press him on the matter; she had worries enough of her own at the moment. There had been no contact from Dermin and though he could just be out of the city on some task of his own, her fears were high that he had somehow tried to speak on her behalf and had been seen as conspirator and judged accordingly.

Still, for all her own concerns she could not completely ignore the troubles of the man at her side, the broken misery with which Cernd had once spoken of his son and the tense hope that no doubt filled him now. He had been kind that last tenday, always at hand with reassurance when her worries for Fritha pressed upon her heart, and Jaheira felt, as another who had come into the trials and joys of guardianship by unexpected and untraditional means, she owed it to the man to help him in this as best she could.

'Here, this was the one was it not?' Cernd's mellow voice broke through her thoughts, the man pointing up to the chipped peeling sign that jutted into the street above their heads, the plain letters above the poor picture of a dark-skinned man with a large black moustache and bright green turban reading the _The Calim's Head_.

The windows next to them were so dirty it was hard to tell whether the lights inside were on or not, but the place was most definitely open, Jaheira striding through the door to face the cloying heat of the small cramped space beyond, the room suddenly a sea of appraising frowns as the assembled patrons turned to take in these interlopers, Jaheira left wondering how much they could actually see in that heavy fog of pipesmoke.

The stares were easily enough ignored though, the pair heading straight to the small bar that had been crammed into the opposite corner, the stout red-faced landlord stood at the counter listlessly cleaning a cup while behind him a leaner lad with a dirty blond braid struggled to tap the fresh barrel he had just heaved onto the stands.

'Evening there.'

Jaheira merely nodded. 'We're here to see Masid? Is he about tonight?'

'Never heard of him,' the landlord rumbled, no change to his bored expression, 'Now what you drinking?'

They took their ale over to one of the few empty tables, as far from the roaring hearth as they could manage, the table still covered with cups and bottles from the previous occupants though it was not until they had almost finished their own drinks when someone arrived to clear them. It was the server from before, the young man making a show of stacking the many empty cups carefully upon his tray and not lifting his eyes from his work as he began nonchalantly, 'I heard you asking after Masid. What you looking for him for?'

Jaheira spared Cernd a glance before replying in a manner just as casual, 'We heard he was in the position to supply us with certain… goods.'

The man grinned, revealing a mouth of crooked teeth as he heaved his tray to the other side of the table and took the chair between them.

'Ah, I recognise _that_ reluctance well enough –I'm Simuth, I used to be Masid's contact here -vet potential customers, you understand?'

'Yes, we understand,' agreed Jaheira grimly, 'We would like to speak with him.'

'Well, wouldn't we all,' Simuth laughed, 'he owed me a good few coins before he passed over.'

'Passed over?' repeated Cernd, 'You mean to say he is dead?'

'Aye, happened about a month back now -though I still might be able to help you depending on what you're in the market for.'

Jaheira waved away his offer impatiently. 'Yes, yes, but how did Masid die?'

Simuth frowned, eyes darting between them before he decided on his answer.

'Well, they say it was an accident. He had been drinking a lot lately –business taken a bit of a down turn- and they found him drowned in the harbour.'

'But you do not believe that,' confirmed Cernd, Simuth wetting his lips nervously as he leaned in and dropped his voice.

'He'd been drunk plenty of times before, you know? Ah, I shouldn't really say anything, but there was a bit of a turf war going on at the time, some new grave robbers moved in to the city -foreign types, I heard. It wouldn't have usually been a problem, most of the clients in our business like to stick with suppliers they trust, but these lads… rumour had it they could get bodies so fresh they had barely seen a tomb. One by one, the other grave robbers about the city went out of business and soon old Masid was the only one left still working. Then came the final nail in the coffin as it were -him lost to a watery grave and those two had free run of the city.'

'Do you know their names,' asked Cernd, 'or how we might contact them?'

But Simuth was shaking his head, nervy and restless as he glanced about them.

'No, no, they don't deal with me and I stay well clear of them –I've already said too much and I don't want to end up the same way as Masid.'

Jaheira reached for her purse to lay a bright gold piece upon the table before him. 'Perhaps this can bolster your courage?'

Simuth eyed the coin a moment, fat and gleaming on the dull wood, before covering it with his palm and sucking in a deep breath as though drawing strength from the small disk of metal.

'All right then, Balquit and Meacio: them are your fellers if you want something really fresh -though if you're just in the market for some unblessed bones or grave dust, then-'

'No, thank you,' cut in Jaheira categorically, leaving Simuth grumbling into his chores as she turned to leave.

'Well, that could have been more constructive,' Jaheira sighed to the twilit sky as they stepped outside, even the reek of the docks better than the stale heat of that tavern, 'But these two newcomers sound promising at least.'

Cernd nodded and murmured something vague, his eyes still on the blue-grey clouds. Jaheira felt her heart twist in sympathy and decided there and then that she would see the man and son reunited, whatever it took.

'We will get him back, Cernd.'

The druid smiled and agreed in that mild mellow way of his, though her words had done nothing to lift the air of unease about him and they made their way back to the inn in a silence much the same.

Apart from the notable change in staff, the Coronet was little different from before, the patrons crowded about the tables drinking or warming themselves by the four large fireplaces. Bernard and Hendak were in conversation behind the bar, though the latter raised a hand to Jaheira as they passed, she and Cernd the last to arrive at their table, five familiar faces glancing up as they approached.

'So how went it?' Jaheira asked briskly as soon as she had taken her seat, more than ready to bring Cernd from his ill humour with tales of their success. 'Aerie? Minsc?'

The elf sighed as Minsc shook his head regretfully. 'Not so well actually. We visited that alchemist Valygar suggested, but his business closed down an age ago. He had some trouble with the Watch and moved to Waterdeep –it's a bakery now. So we spent the rest of the afternoon watching Deril's estate. Truth be told, we quite heartened by the number of deliveries he seemed to be receiving -until one of the carthorses threw a shoe and we were given our opportunity to approach with aid. Apparently, Deril is holding some sort of gathering in the next couple of days.'

Jaheira felt her suspicions prickle. 'Could it be something connected to his necromancy?'

Aerie snorted. 'Not unless such _dark revels_ are usually decorated with festoons of ivy and winter roses, imported at goodness knows _what_ cost from the city hothouses.'

A grim murmur of disheartened agreement rippled over the table; things did not look promising there, Jaheira redirecting her hopes to the ranger sat opposite.

'And, Valygar, have you discovered any more from your mother's diaries?'

'No,' he answered shortly, and clearly not wanting to speak of it further, Jaheira suppressing a sigh of her own as she turned to their final pair.

'So, how was the apothecary then?'

'Well, you cannot fault Anomen's performance,' Fritha enthused, her cheer out of place on that table of dour faces. 'He comported himself admirably and kept the old man distracted while I had a good pry.'

The knight flushed, though a smile did not break past his lips as he demurred, 'You lend me too much praise, my lady. It is you that has the talent for such deceptions; I entered the shop to find you almost as another person –tell me, what pretence had you so distressed?'

Fritha laughed. 'Oh that. I told him I wanted a curse for my sweetheart after I caught him writing love letters to another girl. There,' she announced proudly, setting a small jar of slimy bright orange orbs on the table, each no bigger than a peppercorn, 'a quarter of salamander eyes. Brewed up just right, then slipped into ale or tea and it'll fester tiny green boils all over his lying cheating tongue.' Fritha leaned back in her chair looking rather pleased with herself. 'That'll put an end to any illicit kissing _he's_ got planned for the next tenday.'

'Fritha,' Jaheira observed dryly, 'this man doesn't actually exist.'

'I _know._'

'Well,' the woman sighed over Aerie's giggling, 'did you manage to get anything other than an apt retribution for your roving and utterly _imaginary_ beloved?'

'No,' Fritha confessed gloomily, 'it was a complete waste of time, I'm afraid. I took his receipt book, but there is no mention of Deril or deliveries to his estate. Perhaps he is served off the books, though without any solid evidence of his ill-doings we are no further on.'

'Well, the apothecary was most definitely hiding something,' concluded Anomen firmly, 'no merchant of this city would be so generous were he _truly_ honest.'

'Indeed,' Fritha agreed, 'though it doesn't really help us with finding anything incriminating on Deril –sorry Cernd.'

The druid mumbled something into his chest, but made no other response.

'Well, _we_ may have some lead,' announced Jaheira, determined their investigations were not to have been a complete failure. 'According to our contact, a new pair of grave robbers are working in the city and have driven most of the others out of business –or worse. It is said they can supply bodies of an unrivalled…' she paused for a word that did not turn her stomach and came up short. '…_freshness_,' she finished eventually to more than a few crinkled noses. 'Two young men named Balquit and Meacio.'

Fritha cast her eyes to the ceiling with a sigh. 'You're joking.'

Cernd and Jaheira shared a look, the woman continuing mordantly, '_No_, though your tone suggests we will soon wish we _were_.'

'They're false names. Balquit and Meacio were the grave robbers in Oswalden's tragedy, _The Leafless Tree_.'

'Oh, very witty,' Jaheira spat crossly, 'Though at the risk of sounding intellectually conceited, I do not believe our contact could have thought up something so poetic; it must be the names they go under.'

'Well,' Fritha sighed, straightening in her seat to clap her hands together, trying to return herself to her previous enthusiasm, 'if there is one thing I am pretty sure grave robbers need it's graves. Shall we take our investigation to the source?'

A round of agreements, Jaheira's twinge of reservation revealing itself in an involuntary glance to the man next to her.

'You do not have to join us, Cernd, if…' She did not have to finish the sentence, her eyes flicked pointedly to windows next to them, opening out on a darkening sky and the full moon which had yet to rise.

The man just shook his head though.

'No, it will be fine. I wish to come -this is all for my benefit, after all,' he added with what could have almost been bitterness.

'All right, then,' came Fritha after a pause; she had clearly heard it too. 'Well, we can take dinner here and then head over to the cemetery once night has fallen.'

And Jaheira turned to signal one of the maids as the talk turned to more mundane matters, Aerie playfully questioning Fritha about her adulterous lover, the young bard gleefully taking up the game with a shrewish rant which gave the subtle impression that she was perhaps not the _easiest_ of ladies to be paired with and their relationship would have been something he would have ended honourably -had he not been too afraid to tell her. Something that was proving entertaining for almost all of them; Cernd back to watching the windows with fathomless eyes.

xxx

'Ah, another evening, another choice Athkatlan nightspot,' Fritha sighed, the girl heading their group as they stepped under the ornate stone gateway into the city cemetery, 'we always go to the nicest places.'

'What are you complaining about?' asked Aerie, 'Our last outing took us to a tavern –admittedly it was full of slavers and you started a brawl.'

Fritha laughed. 'I know; can't take me anywhere, can you?'

'According to the site map, the more recent plots are this way,' said Valygar, the man promptly striding off along the eastern pathway through the mausoleums.

The sky above them had finally cleared of clouds and was all the colder for it, a hoar frost creeping up the stonework around them, Fritha pausing in her march to commit the diamond strung filigree of a spider's web to memory, before hurrying after the others. The graveyard was changing about them as they walked, the older mausoleums giving way to smaller crypts and crowded areas of just large gravestones and ornately carved sarcophaguses, statues and idols to every god she could name raised in marbles and granites about them with seemingly no thought to the cost. That last sign of devotion from the faithful or the desperate final act of one who was not sure how warm a welcome they would be receiving beyond the veil? _Valygar_ had not her indecision.

'Ah, keep your temples and your shrines -you never see anymore proof of men's _unswerving faith_ than in a graveyard.' He snorted contemptuously as his eyes dragged over a large icon to Lathander in gilt and marble, 'Such pointless veneration.'

'You mean you don't believe in the gods?' asked Aerie as though _she_ could not believe an unfounded hatred of magic was not enough for the man without adding this heresy. Valygar shrugged evenly –her reaction nothing out of the ordinary it seemed.

'No, I believe in them, just as I believe in the trees and sky and cities. But as with all those things, knowing they exist does not necessarily lead to my worship of them.'

'So you do not pray -not _ever_?' The elf gasped, the stars reflecting in her wide eyes.

'To what end? I have no need of the powers the gods grant you.'

'But one does not worship for power,' corrected Anomen, perhaps more calmly than Aerie though the same intensity still lingered behind his voice, 'but because your chosen Lord is the divine embodiment of all you believe in and strive to be.'

But the ranger remained unmoved. 'There is no such god for me.'

'But that is no reason not to worship,' pressed Aerie, 'The gods gave us the whole world -they gave us _life_.'

Valygar raised a cool eyebrow. 'It could also be said your mother and father gave you life, Aerie, did you worship them as well?'

'No, of course not, but I did love them.'

'But for the fact they gave you life, or for the care they gave to you?'

'So, you do not worship because the gods do not care?'

'I do not worship because I should not have to.'

'The gods do care!' Aerie insisted, her voice rising. Valygar sighed, his patience for this constant censure of his beliefs seemingly wearing thin.

'The gods care as the gods can, Aerie. They are gods, immortal and beyond our understanding and I do not believe that the prayers of mortals make any difference to the general outcome of their plans and desires. But what does our leader have to say on this matter?' he continued, Fritha glancing up from where she had been trying to achieve different patterns with her breath in the frigid air and happily keeping out of it. 'You are the only one among us on who I have noticed no holy mark or allegiance; do _you_ believe in the gods, Fritha?'

'Seems a bit daft not since I _was_ sired by one,' she laughed.

'Fritha!' chorused Jaheira and Anomen.

'No, I did not mean-' Valygar cut himself off with a sigh to clarify, 'Do you pray, Fritha?'

'Yes, of course… well, when I want something.'

'_Fritha!_' chorused Jaheira and Anomen again, Aerie adding her soprano to their disapproval. A half-smile was twisting the ranger's lips though, her blunt honesty clearly amusing him.

'But without constant worship, do you not think it will merely draw resentful eyes upon you?'

Fritha shrugged. 'Well, maybe, but sometimes I think they might be all, _"oh, why not let her have it? She so very rarely asks for anything and she _has_ had a bit of a hard time lately"_.'

Valygar snorted though he was still smiling as he said, 'I think you perhaps give the gods too much mortal emotion.'

'Aye, I likely do, but I find I fear them much more when I don't. Besides, Bhaal was jealous, scheming, and very keen to avoid his own demise by any means necessary -and not unlike your average person now I consider it, so I do not think my assumption is too far from the mark.'

Valygar's bark of laughter sent a great cloud of icy mist into the sky. 'How does one so bitter remain so bright?'

'It's like Cernd said; accept the cold and you soon get used to it. Isn't that right, Cernd?' Fritha laughed as they came to a halt at a small crossroads, a pale grey statue of Kelemvor raised upon a plinth at its centre, the effigy looking down on them with a detached lifeless gaze and Fritha wondered if the god himself would look anymore expressive.

'Cernd?' she prompted again, glancing back for his agreement to find the druid walking along behind them with little interest in either their discussion or even the fact they had stopped, still walking as he muttered under his breath, his eyes fixed up the distant white orb that was hung low above the silhouette of the western roof tops.

'Talking to yourself, Cernd?' Fritha teased, her voice sing-song, 'First sign of madness…'

'And _you_ would know,' snapped Jaheira tartly, closing the distance between them to lay a light hand upon the man's forearm and start him from his trance, 'Cernd, is there a problem?'

'Sorry? No, no,' he assured her tersely, 'I am fine. I merely have much on my mind.'

'Are you sure?' asked Aerie, 'You look rather pale.'

'Yes, you can return to the inn if need be,' agreed Jaheira, making to take his arm, 'Come, I shall join you.'

He eased it from her grasp. 'No, I wish to stay.'

'But, Cernd-'

'You heard the man, Jaheira,' interrupted Fritha blithely, 'Right, time to split up. We can walk in pairs about the area and meet back here in a couple of hours. Shall we take a turn about the gravestones, good Cernd?' she offered, not waiting for his agreement as she neatly linked an arm about his elbow, the druid stumbling after her as she slipped into the shadows between two plain stone crypts and they were gone.

'Well, I am flattered that you would wish to have me join you, though perhaps surprised as well,' the druid began a few moments later when Fritha had finally relinquished him his arm and they were continuing their stroll through the mausoleums at a more reasonable pace. 'It is unusual for the magpie to be without its partner and I am more used to you pairing yourself with Aerie -or _Anomen_.'

Fritha ignored his intimation though. 'Well, I thought you might need a spell away from everyone. I know they mean well, but _fuss-_ they're like old mud hens, the lot of them.'

'They are merely concerned,' he countered, wondering himself why he was defending them when only moments before he had been thinking the very same. 'They informed you of what occurred in the slave pits?'

'Of course, they did,' the girl exclaimed as though his partial transformation into a savage beast was a mere triviality. 'But you're a sensible man who knows what he thinks and how he feels and I trust that if you say you are fine and wish to stay then you can and that if there's a problem or you need anything, you'll let us know.'

'Like you do?' he asked pointedly, but Fritha merely laughed off his antagonism.

'Certainly, if I thought there were _anything_ you lot could do.'

'So something _has_ been troubling you -I thought you had been in good spirits of late.'

'Ah, I am found out!' she laughed, the girl sending him an embarrassed smile as she confessed, 'I have not been sleeping so well. Jaheira and I _might_ have had a run in with some mercenaries who had seen the bounty notices a few days back and since then I've been finding it harder to drift off at night and when I do my sleep is fraught with dreams of men I cannot see chasing me down darkened streets and rattling at my door.'

'And did you not think to inform anyone of this? I or Jaheira could brew something that would help you take your rest.'

Fritha looked instantly appalled. 'Oh, Cernd, thank you, but I am certainly not going to take a sedative when there _is_ a good chance someone might try to get into my room and kidnap me! And so what other option have I? Go running to Jaheira and ask to sleep in with her every time I have a nightmare? I gave up on _that_ foolishness when I was five.'

Cernd watched her smile, seemingly at ease with her troubles.

'So what _do_ you do?'

'Well, I read a lot, keep my journal and embroider until I am so tired I fall asleep with the needle in my hand –though I would not recommend that one,' she grinned, 'you can find yourself suddenly awake again very soon afterwards.'

She laughed again and he felt suddenly frustrated that she could pretend to be fine to the point where she seemed to trick herself into believing it and _he _could not.

'Why are you doing this?' he demanded suddenly, 'Investigating Deril, helping me retrieve Ahsdale –it will earn you no coin.'

Fritha drew back, frowning, as though his question did not make sense.

'Well, no, but this is important to you and how could I face Imoen if I raised the money for her rescue at the expense of all else?' The girl turned from him to engage an unseen third, '_Oh, Imoen, the price I had to pay for you! Worth every copper? -You cheeky mare! It was quite the sum I had to raise but I managed it- Of course, we had to kill an innocent man and let some Rashemi woman be taken by slavers and leave Cernd's son with some evil necromancer to do it, but, well, you understand._' Fritha shook her head, 'She wouldn't want that. _I _don't want that.' The girl was frowning again, her eyes black in the gloom as they caught him with a searching look. 'Cernd, is something wrong, I mean other than the full moon and worries for your son and well, you know…'

He felt the answer rising in his throat unbidden, unexpectedly desperate to unburden his worries upon someone. To confess that although he longed to have his son with him, he feared it too. And not only the fact his life would be so suddenly and irrevocably changed forever. Recent events had reminded him he was not merely a man; a darker presence lurking within him waiting only for a moment of weakness to emerge and he wished he could voice to her the terror he felt, how he could never forgive himself if he lost control and hurt the boy.

'Cernd?' Fritha questioned again, though she did not look hopeful about getting a response, the rasp of stone forestalling his reply and the pair flattened themselves to the mausoleum they were stood before as the next crypt along opened, two men stepping from it and not even noticing them, their heads bowed as they searched through whatever small trinkets they had managed to find. The taller one was also the younger of the pair, face smooth and tanned under the mop of dark curls. He clearly thought of himself as something of a dandy, the lad dressed in fine long coat of dark blue wool that did not look particularly practical for digging through tombs, a fine scarlet scarf wound about his throat, while his older companion was more sensibly dressed in leather jerkin and plain brown cloak, tuffs of greying hair sticking out from beneath his black felt cap.

Fritha's teeth were a flash of white in the gloom as she sent Cernd a grin, the girl drawing her sword as she stepped up behind them.

'_Halt there, sirs;_ _his Lordship, the Magistrate has ordered your apprehension. Tis a foolish man who would dare raise their eyes to his fair ward, Celeste.'_

The two men whirled, seemingly too bewildered to be afraid.

'You what, love?'

'Who in the 'ells is _Celeste?_'

Fritha glanced to Cernd with the briefest frown. 'Er, _The Leafless Tree_, act three scene two,' she explained impatiently, 'What did you do, just flick through it and find two names you liked?'

But the men persisted to look confused, the younger of the pair still frowning deeply while his older friend shook his head.

'Eee, it's just like my Liza says: full moon always brings out the weird uns.'

'You mean you're not Balquit and Meacio,' confirmed Fritha looking heartily disappointed.

'Er, no, love,' agreed the younger man, seemingly glad the talk was returning to more familiar territory as he thrust a hand out at her, 'I'm Baird and this here is Harris.'

'Evenin' there.'

'Fritha, Cernd,' the girl introduced briskly, sheathing her sword to take his hand before making an instant return to the task that had dragged them all out there, 'Well, you two _are_ grave robbers, aren't you?'

'Why, who's asking?' demanded Harris, eyes narrowed to the point where Cernd wondered how he could even see them in the gloom. 'You two with the Watch?'

'No, but we _are_ looking for pair of grave robbers who might be working around here,' said Fritha, hopeful as she glanced back and forth between the pair 'Newcomers perhaps? Known for getting their bodies very fresh?'

But Baird was shaking his head. 'Nope, not round here, love, and I'd give them a piece of my mind if we did.'

'Why? Competition is the life's blood of this enterprising city,' said Cernd, trying to keep the scorn in his voice to a minimum.

'Ain't about the competition,' snapped Harris, 'Anyways, we ain't grave robbers, we're _tomb robbers_.'

'The difference being?' questioned the druid coolly.

'Tomb robbers take whatever affects may have been buried with the body –grave robbers take the body.'

'Now, that's just disrespectful,' added Baird, the pair nodding in stern agreement.

'Whereas rifling through the deceased's personal affects for your own profit is the _height_ of reverence,' muttered Cernd, Fritha's cheeks suddenly suffused with a blush that had nothing to do with the cold.

'Come now, Cernd, the man has a point. But either way, I'd cry off tonight, lads; there are some others of my company about here tonight with a less _enlightened_ view of things than us, if you catch my meaning.'

She sent the pair a friendly smile, the men clearly deciding her advice was worth heeding, Harris slapping his younger companion on the back.

'Ah, come on, lad, it's bitter out tonight and if we hurry we can still make last orders at the Old Crow.'

A respectful nod and the men were gone, Fritha and Cernd walking the narrow paths between the gravestones and crypts for another hour before they headed back to the meeting place to find Aerie and Minsc had not long given up their search as well, Jaheira, Valygar and Anomen arriving but a quarter hour later all with the same result.

'Anything?' Fritha called to them, the men shaking their heads as Jaheira answered for all of them.

'No, this place is deserted.'

'Aye, silent as a tomb,' laughed Fritha, 'Shall we head back?'

The muttered agreements were cut off by a soft 'Oh!', Aerie glancing up from the receipt book she had borrowed from Fritha while they had waited for the others. Fritha's interest was instantly piqued.

'Aerie?'

'This receipt book you took -there are regular sales being made to another shop.'

'Another shop?' Fritha questioned, moving to peer over her shoulder at the small book Aerie was still rifling through.

'Yes, _Ignatio and Virid_. It's a bookshop in the main square just west of the Promenade, one of the few in the city allowed to stock volumes relating to the arcane. I used to visit there between shows at the circus.'

'Why would they want supplies from an apothecary?' asked Jaheira, the elf shaking her head, as bewildered as any of them.

'I don't know. I never really spoke to the owner, though he seemed nice enough for a Cowled Wizard -just old and a bit forgetful, though he loved his books. I cannot imagine him wanting to branch out into magical supplies, especially some of these things,' Aerie glanced down to read the cramped spidery hand, 'crushed foxgloves, raven's feet, _Basalisk's blood_ –these ingredients would be used for only _very _dark magic.'

'Is there any other sort?' muttered Valygar.

'Now, now children,' Fritha cut in sternly, Aerie's mouth already open for her retort, 'let's all play nicely. Well, it is certainly worth investigating the place, though I don't think it's anything that can't wait until the morning.'

The Coronet was all but empty now, Hendak nodding them a greeting from behind counter as they trooped past him for the stairs. Apparently, the last decade spent fighting for his life every night had made him something of a nightowl, Bernard more than happy to swap the day shift permanently.

Fritha stepped into her room, listening to the sounds of the others bidding quiet 'goodnight's through the door behind her as her eyes fell upon the bed and for a moment she saw it: the rest of her night stretching endlessly before her, the girl too tired to read, too nervous to sleep, and suddenly Fritha did not feel _quite_ as weary as she had back in the graveyard. Outside in the corridor she heard the door opposite click shut and suddenly she was opening her own again with painstaking care, shutting it behind her to steal further along the hallway and pause before the last door.

'Jaheira?' she hissed into the wood, her knock no more than a light rasp of her fingernails though it roused the woman all the same, the druid appearing in the narrow gap between frame and door.

'Yes? Fritha is something wrong?' she questioned in an instinctive whisper. The girl grinned.

'No, I just wondered if you fancied heading over to the Promenade.'

'To investigate a certain bookshop?' Jaheira confirmed with frown, 'And what happened to your plans to visit them tomorrow morning?'

'Ah, come on, they're not going to tell us anything if they're guilty and it's so hard to have a proper look about when the owners are actually _there_.'

The druid snorted but Fritha could tell by the smile that was fighting to quirk her lips that she had won the woman over.

'Reason enough, I suppose.'

Just a moment for Jaheira to collect her cloak and bag and the pair were creeping back along the corridor, almost to the stairs when the door to their left swung wide.

'Going somewhere, ladies?'

'Anomen!' Jaheira gasped, a hand clutched to her chest, Fritha making to slap his arm as she hissed , 'You scared the life out of us!'

The knight hardly looked repentant though. 'You are heading over to the shop Aerie spoke of, are you not?'

'How-?'

'I know you well enough by now, Fritha.' Anomen sent the girl a deeply disappointed look. 'You promised you would inform me before any more reckless jaunts about the city.'

Fritha flushed, defiant of both him and the guilt that was suddenly twisting through her stomach.

'No, I promised you I'd _try_.'

'Well, then may I suggest you try _harder_.'

'Fine, fine,' the girl appeased, not willing to waste any more time arguing with him, 'so what now?'

Anomen sighed, suddenly weary. 'I do not suppose I can convince you both to return to bed?'

Jaheira snorted as Fritha almost laughed her, '_no_'.

'Surely, there must be a better way to proceed in these investigations, my lady,' he almost pleaded, the girl sending him a strangely sympathetic look.

'Not that I can think of. I'm sorry, but we need a chance for a real look around if we are going to discover anything –this matter with Deril and these grave robbers may affect more people than just us in the end. Now are you reporting us to the Watch?'

The man sighed again, pulling his door closed behind him. 'I was hardly tired anyway.'

'Why are you three still in the hall?' whispered a voice before them, Valygar stood before his open doorway, armour removed but still clothed.

'Gods help me!' hissed Fritha, 'We're going to break into this bookshop of Aerie's –you coming or not?'

Valygar reached back inside and suddenly he was swinging his new green cloak about his shoulders, fastening it with one hand as he locked his door with the other. Fritha nodded once, turning back to the stairs.

'All right then. Now, let's go before we end up having to take half the inn with us.'

– Blackcross & Taylor


	75. Honour among thieves

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Honour among thieves**

Fritha gazed up at the building before her, an impenetrable fortress of red brick and neatly painted woodwork in the gloom of the alleyway, the woman next to her leaning against her staff and eyeing the solid wooden door and its heavy iron lock with the air of one who was expecting something of a miracle.

The bookshop had been easy enough to find, situated on the northern side of the plaza on the raised terrace where all the shop fronts were lined, a lofty perch above the square that was so often filled with traffic and stalls, the fountains echoing eerily in the nocturnal lull while the Promenade to the east loomed over all. Though _there_ had not been the place to make their entrance, the four slipping into the dark sloping alleyway that ran between the bookshop and the haberdashery next door to find themselves at the side entrance, the men sent to stand in the narrow lane that ran along the back, on lookout for any Watch patrols -Fritha did _not_ want to begin the morrow being bailed out of a jail cell by Aerie.

'So,' came Jaheira eventually, 'how do you _actually_ plan to get inside? Your magic?'

Fritha shook her head. 'No, a place like this will likely be warded. No, we shall have to do this the old fashioned way.'

The druid looked marginally impressed. 'You'll pick the lock?'

Fritha drew back with a theatrical shock.

'Really, Jaheira, what do I look like, a common _thief_? No, I shall climb in through a window. There, that one looks likely,' she continued, still grinning as she pointed to a small sash window about halfway up the building and a few feet right of the door, a convenient drainpipe running up the wall next to it.

And that was Jaheira's cue to turn away, unwilling to watch as the girl scaled the drain, one foot already cramping on the sill, the other wedged against the piping she had just climbed and Fritha teetering in between, both hands needed at the handle of her knife as she eased the blade beneath the frame and slowly worked the window open. A moment of stomach-lurching faith as she pushed off against the drainpipe and whipped two hands inside the frame to pull herself forward and at last she was in, dropping lightly onto the stairs just below her and tripping down them to open the door set beneath, the key hung conveniently on a nail next to it.

'Couldn't have picked it any way,' Fritha explained to the women who was waiting on the other side, 'it had bolts drawn across both top and bottom.'

The shop about them was panelled in contrasts of light and darkness, the blinding glow from the street lamps on the terrace outside streaming in through the two large windows at the shop front to highlight every table and counter or striking the taller bookcases to throw deep shadows back into the room. The pair parted ways, each taking a different route about the stands and bookcases as they searched for any evidence of the shop's newest purchases and holding a whispered conversation as they went.

'Ooo, they've a copy of _Runtenwynd's Miscellany_,' Fritha hissed, gently taking the worn and rather dusty volume from the shelf next to her and letting it fall open where it pleased, 'I haven't seen one of these since Candlekeep.'

A sneeze sounded from the bookcases somewhere to her left, a disgruntled voice muttering, 'Yes, it's seems there are _many_ things this place has in common with the archives.'

Fritha replaced the book and moved on to a table in the central aisle displaying a pleasing arrangement of quills and coloured inks.

'Well, Aerie said the owner was getting on in years, perhaps he can't manage the cleaning on his own anymore.'

'A reasonable enough supposition…' the woman conceded, her tone taking on the deliberately casual air that never failed to give Fritha that sinking feeling as Jaheira continued, 'So, you and Anomen seem to be on better terms of late –you have been inseparable these last few days.'

'Inseparable?' Fritha repeated as shrilly as she dared, the ink bottle she held nearly tumbling from her hands, '_Hardly_. I just thought he would like someone to keep him company. It can get so dull sat in your room alone.'

'Ah ha,' came Jaheira softly, Fritha glancing back to see her straightening from behind the counter, a small book in her hands, 'the purchase and receipt log. No mention of any deliveries from our apothecary, but it does record three different names over the last few months' ledgers: Ignatio-'

'The owner,' supplied Fritha unnecessarily.

'And two others, Stefan and Rowid- they must be his shophands.'

'Well, they're definitely not pulling their weight,' muttered Fritha, tracing a finger along the dusty shelf next to her, 'But in any case, there's nothing out here, so they're not selling the ingredients openly, if they are at all. Shall we try the back?'

The druid nodded her agreement, Fritha joining the woman on the other side of the counter as they moved through the doorway set behind it into the back of the shop. It was not the cramped storeroom Fritha had been expecting though, just a narrow windowless space that seemed to serve as their break room. Jaheira called her werelight to reveal a collection of packing chests in one corner that looked as though they were serving as both table and chairs, a battered old kettle and a few chipped mugs set upon the largest while in the corner opposite were leant a broom, mop and bucket that did not look like they had been moved in a while from the small colony of spiders who had strung a vast city of webs between the two handles.

Fritha cast about her with a disappointed sigh. 'Oh, this is not quite the packed stockroom I was expecting.'

'There,' said Jaheira, marching to the other end of the room, the dull metal ring of a trapdoor catching in the glow of her werelight. She stooped, a hand outstretched to lift it when she faltered, glancing from the large red glyph that had been painted upon the door to send the girl a wary look, but Fritha just grinned, kneeling to heave the hatch wide, the thick rungs of a heavy wooden ladder stretching down into the darkness before them.

'It's all right, just a rune to keep the air dry and protect the books from the damp -they used to be every hundred yards in the archives. Ah, this is more like it,' Fritha trilled, calling up her own light as she stepped down from the final rung into the basement, the low-ceilinged room half the length of the shop above and set with row upon row of bookcases, half unpacked chests of books strewn here and there in the aisles, Fritha gazing about her beaming widely. 'Ah, this brings back memories.'

'Not wanting to mar your reminiscences but-' came the druid behind her, Fritha turning in time to see her stern look and the pair set off down the first aisle, Jaheira seemingly more than happy to return to their previous discussion as they continued their search.

'Well, I think it commendable that you would put aside your previous reluctance to keep Anomen company, though I must admit it surprised me -a mere few days before I imagine you'd have done _anything_ to avoid time alone with the man.'

Fritha felt her stomach lurch, biting back a rather sharp comment about people speaking _plainly_ if they had something _say_.

'Well, things are different now. We spoke about… matters; Anomen agreed to stop pressing his suit and he has.'

'Yes, he has,' said Jaheira mildly, the look she sent her anything but.

Fritha flushed. 'And what's _that_ supposed to mean?'

But their argument would have to wait, it seemed.

'Here,' the druid cut in, her werelight falling on the end of the aisle and the bookcase there that seemed to be set at a slightly different angle to the others. Something Fritha would have just put down to a trick of the light until they drew closer, the flickering glow of their werelights streaming through the narrow gap to open out the cramped room beyond, boxes and sacks all stacked neatly within, a large net bag of small glass jars glimmering in the light and Fritha recognised the vivid orange soup of salamander eyes.

'I think we've found our apothecary's supplies,' murmured Fritha.

Jaheira nodded, though a bang somewhere in the room above forestalled her reply, Fritha holding her breath as footsteps pounded the boards above them.

'Gods,' sighed a voice, young, masculine and cultured, 'I am glad this is the last load –Stefan, you left the trapdoor open _again!_'

Their werelights were out in an instant, Fritha's heart racing as they stumbled back along the aisle in the sudden darkness to find a hiding place crouched behind some crates in the next row along, while upstairs another voice answered the first, his tone more informal even if his accent was not.

'Did I? Oh, what does it matter?'

'And I suppose you left the bookcase open too?'

'So what if I did?' Stefan sighed, 'It's not as though old Ignatio goes down there even in working hours. Gods, Rowid, you fret like my old nurse.'

Rowid grumbled something inaudible that his companion either did not hear or did not heed, Stefan continuing blithely, 'I'm just glad Deril's orders aren't usually this large. _Three_ trips across the city and his estate is the furthest of all of them -_and_ I've still got that experiment for Master Xavin to write up.'

'Haven't you finished that yet?'

'No… I don't suppose you'll let me have a look at yours?'

'_No!_'

And Stefan's laughter rang out above them as that first pair of feet appeared on the ladder.

xxx

Anomen shifted slightly, the cold stone of the wall he was leaning against seeping through to his back. He had removed his armour as soon as he had entered his room, exchanging it for his blue woollen coat and cloak, his suspicions proved correct that he would soon be heading out again.

Somewhere, the distant rattle of a cart echoed along the silent street and the erratic path of a bat dipped and swerved overhead, the icy breeze stirring his hair and he pulled his cloak about him more tightly, acutely aware of eye of Helm embroidered inside his coat to rest just above his heart. How mildly he stood there, aiding others in acts he would have once argued so stridently against. That day had already seen him on the wrong side of the law once, acting as a distraction for Fritha's theft and though he did not blame her, it worried him all the same, the way she only had to threaten to dance off into some peril of her own making and he would abandoned all his principles to accompany her in it.

He knew he could not turn her from her path once decided upon, and voicing complaint when he planned to join her seemed just as pointless –so should he just refuse to accompany her? She said often enough she did not need his help, but to know she was committing such acts and doing nothing to prevent her seemed as bad, if not worse than joining her in them –at least then he could heed his duty and protect the girl as he had sworn. Anomen sighed, wondering if these worries should be shared with another, the Prelate or High Watcher Oisig perhaps; if he was straying from his path he would like to know of it before it was too late to find his way back again. And as though he had spoken his thoughts aloud, the man next to him stirred.

'So, does many an evening find you stood as lookout while others of your company so neatly sidestep the laws of this city?'

Valygar was not smiling, not even looking at him, his eyes scanning along the empty street. Anomen felt his jaw tighten.

'No, this has been the first -Fritha would not inform me on previous occasions.'

'You would not have obliged her?'

'Not without complaint.'

Valygar snorted his dry amusement. 'And now?'

Anomen sighed, his reasons a poor excuse however ardently he believed in them.

'Fritha will follow her own path whatever I say. At least if I am here I can protect her from the consequences.'

Valygar raised an eyebrow, harking back to the knight's previous conviction as he quipped, 'A strange attitude for a Helmite –I did not realise your god was the embodiment of thieves and house breakers.'

'No, but He tells us to protect the weak and I have a duty to her.'

'_Weak?_' repeated Valygar and the knight could see that of all the words he would have used to describe Fritha, _that _had never been one of them. Anomen turned from him; he knew what he meant.

'She is our leader, she wishes to help all she can and it is this desire more often than not leads her to danger. I have no need of your judgement on this matter,' he continued brusquely, tired of the knotted feeling in his stomach every time he considered it. 'I am aware of my failings and will speak to one of my own faith concerning them.'

He turned away, his eyes drawn back to the alley where he had last left the women, though Valygar was not discouraged by his sharpness, his tone somehow more friendly as he offered, 'It is easy for others to judge the path you walk, but you believe it to be right at the time and that should be enough for any man.'

Anomen shook his head. 'Well, it is not enough for me; I must strive to be better than I am, lest I continue to repeat the mistakes of the past.'

'The past is done,' said Valygar bluntly.

'Such an attitude often leads to it being repeated.'

The ranger shot him a dark frown, when suddenly he was laughing quietly to himself. 'You are correct, knight, but doubt is a poison too; how can one walk on when they begin to question every step that led them there?'

'_You_ are worried for _your_ path?' Anomen exclaimed, unable to temper his incredulity, the ranger until then a stoic pillar of unwavering ideals, however different they were from his own, Valygar still smiling even as he sighed.

'These last few days spent reading my mother's diaries, learning firsthand of her slow corruption and yet my doubts still plague me. Lavok was an evil that was remembered in our family for generations after he disappeared, yet when I finally meet him he is not the monster I expected. My mother was not half the terror he was and yet I killed her. Was she as truly lost as I had believed or did my hatred of magic blind me to the goodness still left in her- could she have been redeemed?'

The silence billowed about them, Anomen, as either priest or knight, unable to offer the man anything and in the end he just gave that.

'I cannot say.'

'No,' Valygar nodded grimly, 'neither can I.'

'Oh, don't let _us_ interrupt your little chat!' snapped a shrill voice, the pair glancing up to see Fritha and Jaheira running down the street towards them, the former looking livid. 'By Mask, you two are the _worst_ lookouts!'

Anomen had straightened in an instant. 'My lady-?'

'They were there!' Fritha cried, all frustration, 'they came; the men who've been buying ingredients from the apothecary! They're supplying them to Deril!'

Valygar was frowning. 'That does not make sense. If that is all they are doing, then why doesn't the mage just buy the ingredients directly from the apothecary himself?'

'_How should I know?_' the girl snapped impatiently. 'We heard them say they had to stop off at their place for something first though and I want to know where that is -did you see a cart pass here?'

Anomen glanced to the man next to him and shook his head. Fritha spat a curse.

'_Hells' Teeth!_ They must have come in from around the front. Come on, we can still catch them!'

She was off, tearing back towards the alley to emerge from the shadows on to the terrace at the other end in time to see the cart disappearing west along the main boulevard, Fritha too cross to even swear.

'They leave this square and we'll never find them -just keep sight of me and follow at a safe distance.'

And she was gone. Anomen had never really been able to appreciate it before but Fritha could truly run when she had a mind to, the girl breaking from the cover of the alley to drop clear from the terrace, and he could hear her footsteps haring across the square beneath.

'Come on,' ordered Jaheira, leading the way as they followed at a jog, reaching the corner to see Fritha at the other end of the boulevard and frantically signalling for them to hurry as she slipped off down a side street.

They must have followed them like that for at least a quarter hour, the cart not turning northwards for the slums, but instead taking a route through the south of the city, clattering down the wide streets past the tall brick houses of the prosperous merchant classes until it finally turned down a narrow back lane. Fritha was halfway down the street by the time they reached the corner, the girl flattened to a tall brick wall and peering through the high wooden gates into someone's backyard, though she glanced back at their footsteps to beckon for their cautious approach.

It seemed all the houses on that street had yards to their rear though none she had passed yet were as large as this one. A stout brick outbuilding was built into the right wall, a large stable along the opposite side and yet still leaving plenty of room for the horse and cart to fit comfortably within, the back of the house set at the end, rising three storeys over it all. A flight of stone steps led up to the back door, the two lowest windows bright with lamplight and throwing a warm yellow glow over the yard beneath, one man already inside while the other was washing his hands in the barrel that had been placed under the open drainpipe to collect rain from the roof above, the horse snorting impatiently as it pawed the cobbles.

'So what do we do?' murmured Valygar, Fritha turning back to find the three gathered behind her.

'Well, we need to get into that house. It's a shame we're not in the slums; it's so much easier when you know the Watch are more likely to take your side.'

'Something to drive them out, then?' offered Jaheira, 'A fire perhaps?'

Anomen swelled. 'I am not adding _arson_ to this evening's crimes!'

'I was merely thinking aloud!'

'I know,' soothed Fritha, physically stepping in between the pair, 'but really Jaheira, their aliases have proved these men are well-read –there could be innocent books in there!'

'As well as any _evidence_ we will need,' Valygar pointed out, earning himself a nod from the girl.

'Quite so. Anyway, they'll likely leave of their own accord soon enough. 'Right,' she continued as the second man finally trudged up the steps to disappear inside as well, 'stay here, I'm going to have a look in that cart while we wait.'

Fritha started forward, breaking from their group to slip through the open gate and skirt along the back wall, heading to the other side of the yard where the shadows were deepest before attempting to get any closer. Her breath was coming in little clouds, the girl crouching down beside the old outbuilding and slowly edging forward, watching dark shapes move across the bright windows and waiting for her chance to make her last dash across the yard.

_Any moment now…_

The windows cleared and she took that first step from the shadows to suddenly stop as something crunched underfoot. A black shape at the window and she crouched again, half concealed behind the cart, one hand thrust to the ground to steady herself and she just bit back a gasp as it was plunged into a rivulet of icy water, closer inspection revealing a tiny ice-flow of slush being carried with it on its slow course to the yard's central drain. Fritha turned, eyes tracing its silvery path back to her right, the slick trail of some enormous slug that led right up to the peeling door but a pace or so from her and she could see the water dripping down the shallow step. Just an instant to shift her weight and she had dashed back to the shadows of the outbuilding, light fingers testing the door to see if it was to betray her, before she pushed it open with the merest squeak and slipped inside.

It was pitch black and even colder than the yard had been, and for a moment all she could do was stand in the darkness and catch her breath before she gathered herself enough to conjure a small bead of light and it was all she could do to stifle her cry. Stray hands and feet stuck out here and there from the bodies that were packed like fish in the mountains of crushed ice that towered about her, so high they touched the rafters. Fritha pulled her gaze away, her eyes falling instead on the solid old table set against the wall to her right, the body of a blond man of middling years laid upon it, presumably to thaw out before his delivery. Her feet seemed to carry her closer even as her heart willed her away, the only colour to his grey skin, the marks at his neck, a mix of raw grazes and mottled bruising running in thick lines across it.

Strangulation, she concluded grimly.

He was dressed in a simple tunic and jerkin and she was about to finally turn away when the flash of metal caught her eye. The pale copper ring had likely been deemed too worthless to even bother removing, but Fritha took the time, gently slipping it from his deathly cold finger to hold it up to the light, the many-layered cog of Gond carved upon the centre. It was such a small thing -the last remaining link to a life he had long left, the girl wondering absently if he had found his faith rewarded on the other side. Fritha did not know how long she stared at it, only that suddenly a door somewhere outside had banged open and a voice was calling, 'You get the box ready, I'll fetch it out and we can be off.'

An instant to quench her werelight and Fritha was alone in the icy darkness.

Jaheira stood before Anomen, a hand on each arm and pressing him back as he clearly struggled with his own better judgement, the druid furiously shaking her head and trying to indicate to him in everything but words that they could only wait. She knew though that if he decided he wanted to be past her, there really would be nothing she could do, the pair caught together in that deadlock before at last he seemed to wrestle himself into submission, collapsing back against the wall next to them with a pained expression as Valygar continued to watch the second man unloading a long narrow crate from the back of the cart.

Ages seemed to pass, the moments hanging on her like centuries until the outbuilding door banged open once more, the man reappearing -and this time dragging a body in his wake. Jaheira felt the swell of horror begin in the pit of her stomach, shuddering out to infuse every limb, a hand weakly thrown out to grasp Anomen's sleeve though the knight had made no move to advance, the man frozen with a dismay that matched her own, when the lights of the house fell across that limb body and relief flooded her: it was not Fritha.

The two men packed the body inside the crate with practised movements and light banter before heaving it back onto the cart, one climbing up onto the driver's bench while the other moved to walk the horse about and Valygar led them further down the street to duck into a dark ramshackle yard that had no gate to wait for the sound of the rattling hoof beats to fade from the air.

Fritha had quit the outbuilding by the time they had returned, the girl stood in the silent yard, her cloak pulled about her and shivering uncontrollably.

'Fritha, are you hurt?' demanded Jaheira, the woman closing to her side in a few brisk strides. Fritha shook her head.

'I'm fine, just cold.' She gestured back to the building she had just left. 'It's full of ice… and bodies.'

Jaheira muttered an oath under her breath, Valygar already at the door as the druid went join him, Anomen making to follow the pair, though he took a moment to pause at Fritha's side, clamping a firm hand about her shoulder as though to assure himself she was really there before he continued wordlessly after the druid. Fritha watched him disappear into the icehouse, an unpleasant emptiness yawning in the pit of her stomach.

'Fritha?'

She shook herself, heeding Jaheira's summons to enter as well, the men crowded just before the door parting to let her through as she moved to stand at the now bare table with Jaheira.

'There was a body here, a man with grazes and bruising at his throat like he had been strangled with a rope or something similar.'

Jaheira shook her head, turning from the table to take in the mounds of ice which Fritha had been deliberately avoiding.

'So this is how they are getting their bodies so fresh and why no one has seen them in the cemetery -why bother digging someone up when you can just pluck them off the street.'

'The enterprising spirit of Amn strikes again,' muttered Valygar humourlessly.

'I took this ring from the body before they came for him,' Fritha continued, showing the druid the bright copper circle, her palm still baring the curved grooves from where she had clutched it so tightly, lain upon the banked ice on at the back of the room. 'It bears the symbol of Gond. We will have to tell the local temple, see if they are missing any of their parishioners. As for these others…' She waved a vague hand over the scene before them. Jaheira frowned, reaching out to give her shoulders a rousing clap.

'Come, we will see to all in time. We should use this opportunity to search the house uninterrupted.'

Fritha was the first to leave the outbuilding, crossing the empty yard to trip swiftly up the steps, the tingle of magic ready at her fingers for the waiting door though it was not necessary; whether arrogance or mere forgetfulness but they had left it unlocked. It opened on to a long kitchen that looked as though it ran the length of the house, though how anyone cooked in there Fritha did not know. The fire was out, the hearth overflowing with powdery grey ash, the large stone sink stacked with what was likely every piece of crockery the pair possessed, the table set in the room's centre covered with a chaos of empty bottles, candle stubs and a half eaten loaf of bread that looked _well_ past its best.

There was only one door leading from there and Fritha led the way to find the parlour next door was little better, cups of half drunk tea finding a niche on every surface that was not covered by untidy stacks of books and parchment. Two desks seemed to have been moved in from other rooms to be set, one before the heavily curtained window, the other against the back wall, the only other furniture in that cramped room: two large and decidedly threadbare armchairs placed either side of the glowing hearth.

Jaheira moved to the nearest desk, slender fingers sifting through the mess of papers. 'There are some receipts here from the apothecary and, oh-' she lifted the small black bound book she had just unearthed to read from the cover, '_The Necrotitus Amalas_; have we heard of that one?'

Fritha and Valygar shared a dark look.

'A _highly_ corrupt volume,' offered the ranger.

'Known best for its details of a spell to turn your enemies inside out,' added Fritha brightly.

'Payment from Deril perhaps?' Anomen considered aloud. And from there the four split up, Fritha and Jaheira staying behind to search through the disorder of the parlour while Valygar and Anomen paired off to look over the rest of the house. The two men returned with little to show for their trip, though they came back to find quite a sizable pile of books, artefacts and other items of dark power being gathered neatly on one desk, though still nothing yet that firmly linked their murderers to Deril.

Outside, the clatter of horse hooves echoed in the yard. Fritha directed Valygar and Jaheira to the shadows either side of the door with but a gesture, Anomen at her back as the girl sunk into the old armchair which faced the kitchen door opposite, the first thing the pair would see upon their entrance; if there was one thing that theatre had taught her it was how to set a scene.

'Ah, it is so good to be back!' a voice in the parlour sighed over the rustle of removing cloaks. 'I'll get the fire going, and- Who in the _blazes_ are you two?' cried the young man before her, Stefan by his voice, his spiked blond hair hardly any longer than his neat little beard, his companion rushing in to discover the cause of this outburst only to halt, dark deeply set eyes surveying both she and Anomen from between two curtains of lank brown hair.

'So, Stefan and Rowid.' Fritha let the slightest of smile curl her lips. 'Or do you prefer Balquit and Meacio?'

One man flushed as the other paled, glancing to each other as the now pink Stefan faltered, 'I- I don't know what you are speaking about.'

'No? Then I imagine those few bodies currently stored in your icehouse will come as rather a shock to you.'

She watched Rowid's throat bob as he swallowed nervously. 'What do you want? Are you here to blackmail us, because we do not have much in the way of coin.'

'No? Supplying the city's necromancers with bodies doesn't pay well?'

'We do not do this for mere _gold!_' burst out Stefan furiously, 'The constant lectures on caution and pacing -making us working in that damn shop in our spare time!- The Cowled Wizards would keep us as apprentices until our beards have reached our _knees_ and the study of necromancy is not even permitted until you are deemed _ready_. They say power is _earned_ by the responsible. Look around you; power is seized by those strong enough to take it! We supply ingredients to necromancers about the city in exchange for books, lessons, artefacts –anything to further our studies.'

'Well, I am sure the Gondite you murdered will be glad to know his death was not in vain,' said Fritha coldly, Rowid laying a restraining hand upon his friend's arm as he asked, 'What do you want? We said before we don't have any gold.'

'No,' agreed Fritha, 'but you do have information and as you seem to understand, that is _far_ more precious. Here is my deal: you will turn yourselves in, accusing Deril in the process and I will plead for leniency for you both at your trial –I am sure we could get your sentence reduced from hanging to say, exile to Maztica.'

'_Those_ are your terms?' shouted Stefan, a hysterical smile twisting his features, 'Deril will see us dead before the new moon! No, I will not walk a path that ends in either death or exile,' He glanced to his friend who nodded once, 'We will take our chances here against you.'

Fritha dipped her head in acquiescence, slowly making to rise. 'Fair enough. They say Tymora favours the brave… though I fear She is not with you this evening.'

Valygar and Jaheira step from shadows of doorway.

It was hardly even a fight, Valygar's katana but a flash in the lamplight, Rowid dispatched before he could even raise his defences, Jaheira dodging a bright blast of energy to catch Stefan in the chest with a jab of her staff, sending him staggering back into Anomen, who finished him with but a swing of his mace and the room was quiet once more.

Fritha crouched to frisk both bodies, straightening but a moment later with a signet ring from each and a note detailing what was likely Deril's requirements for his next delivery, though she could not be sure of the hand without further proof.

'Well, it is all still circumstantial, but at least it is something,' sighed Jaheira, Fritha nodding as she tore a scrap of paper from the notebook next to her and scribbled something on to it.

'The address here,' she explained shortly. 'We can swing by the bridge and slip this under the watch post's door. Aegisfield will likely be able to work out what was going on here and those bodies should be given a proper burial.'

They did just that, walking over to the Bridge District, before heading back to the inn, the moon just beginning its descent in the eastern skies and for the first night in a few, Fritha slept without waking once, the dawn finding her feeling better than she had in a while, though the same could not really be said for her accomplices. She ran into Jaheira in the hallway, the woman still yawning into her sleeve as they made their way down to breakfast together, the men at the table little better, dark blue smudges staining the skin under Anomen's eyes while Valygar looked even grumpier than usual, Aerie chattering merrily as she served Cernd and Minsc their first cup of tea.

'Would you like any, Val-? Goodness, Jaheira, you look tired. I was just saying the same to Anomen and Valygar…' Aerie trailed off, blue eyes surveying the three of them with a deeply contemplative frown before finally coming to rest on Fritha. 'In fact, you _all_ look tired.' The elf set down the teapot with a resigned sigh. 'What happened?'

Fritha reached for the pot to serve the rest of them as she explained, 'Valygar, Anomen, Jaheira and I went and broke into that bookshop.'

'All _four_ of you?' Aerie exclaimed and Anomen flushed red, Fritha offering carelessly, 'Well it _was_ just going to be me and Jaheira, but Anomen collared us in the hallway and then Valygar heard us arguing. Look,' Fritha continued, waving all that away with her free hand, the other raising her cup for a welcome mouthful of tea, 'that's really not important right now. When we were there in the bookshop, the two men who had been ordering things from the apothecary turned up and they mentioned deliveries to Deril.'

'Then we can be sure there is a definite link between the apothecary and Deril,' concluded Cernd. Fritha grinned.

'Oh, better than that. We followed them back to their house in the merchants' quarter to find not only a small collection of dangerously powerful magics but also an icehouse full of dead bodies.'

'They are the grave robbers? Balquit and- and that other one?' exclaimed Aerie,' They are supplying Deril with bodies?'

Fritha nodded, somewhat less enthusiastic as she agreed, 'Most assuredly – though not one of them had seen a tomb.'

'Well, if they have been murdering people, then surely we have him!' the elf cried, turning instantly to the druid at her side, ready to see his joy as well, Jaheira taking it upon herself to bring the girl back down to earth.

'Not quite, Aerie. We have no firm evidence that links any of this to Deril.'

'Nothing? What about the two murderers who are supplying him with bodies?'

'They refused to co-cooperate,' said Valygar shortly. A round of grim looks were exchanged across the table -they all knew what _that_ resulted in.

'There, that is what we have,' said Fritha, dumping the contents of her pocket unceremonious into the table's centre, 'a ring from each of them and something of a shopping list that I expect is Deril's -though who can say for sure without a copy of his hand. Everything else in the house incriminated our two grave robbers most implicitly, but Deril has been very careful not to let any of this trace back to him.'

'Ah, it seems young Nalia was right; Boo says there is no justice for men such as these –other than that of the sword,' said Minsc gravely, Valygar nodding his agreement.

'But there must be something we can do?' cried Aerie, half-turned to Anomen though the knight shook his head.

'A scribbled note and some hearsay will not be enough to compel the Magistrates into submitting one of Athkatla's oldest houses to the indignity of an investigation.'

'So this whole thing has got us nowhere.'

Fritha and Jaheira shared the briefest of glances, the druid venturing slowly, 'Perhaps not. There is not enough evidence here to warrant an official investigation, but Deril himself has made it plain he wishes no one to know of his... _studies_. If we could somehow present our evidence to him and threaten to make the matter public knowledge then…'

'You mean _blackmail_ him into giving over the child?' cried Anomen, not the only shocked face about that table. Fritha held up her hands, forestalling any further outrage.

'We may never have enough evidence for the Magistrates to open an investigation. And even if they do they may not find Deril guilty; the practise of necromancy is not a crime.'

'He was having people murdered!' shouted Valygar.

'Actually, _I_ believe he was just taking advantage of what the market had to offer,' offered Jaheira curtly.

'But he must have known they were murdered,' cried Aerie. Fritha shrugged.

'I don't doubt it, but that is not the same as using the rope yourself.'

More than one person was shaking their head, though it was Valygar who gave a voice to their reservations. 'If you blackmail Deril then he will never be brought to justice.'

'Never say never, Valygar,' warned Fritha, her manner graver than it had been yet as she continued, 'But yes, there is a chance Deril will use the opportunity to even further obscure his practices and that is a risk we must all be aware of as we come to a decision in this. Cernd,' she continued more gently as she turned to him, the man sat in silence, his eyes downcast, 'you have not said much so far, have you nothing to add?'

'This man is a necromancer who is likely also a murderer and he has care of my son. What can be said?'

That seemed to be all Fritha needed to hear, the girl straightening in her seat to announce, 'All right, we vote on it. All in favour of presenting Deril with this evidence.'

Fritha, Jaheira, Cernd, Minsc and finally the reluctant Aerie all raised their hands.

'Carried. I'm sorry,' Fritha sighed to the two men across from her. Anomen said nothing, Valygar shrugging as though he had expected no different. 'Now we just need an opportunity to speak with him.'

'What about this gathering Deril is holding?' offered Jaheira. Fritha looked sceptical.

'I don't think I'm going to be able to pass myself of as Athkatla's nascent star of necromancy.'

Aerie managed a laugh. 'Yes, I can hardly believe those flowers actually _were_ for some evil gathering of mages.'

'But they weren't,' said Anomen quietly, suddenly striking the table to cry, 'Why did I not see it before? Ivy and wild roses were the main plants used in pomanders in ancient times, thought to ward off the plague –Deril's celebration, it's a gathering for St Aldulphi's Day!'

'It is that time of year again so soon?' exclaimed Valygar. Anomen nodded, seemingly oblivious to the surrounding table of bewildered frowns.

'How could you not realise? They have been preparing the celebrations in nearly every temple across the…' the knight trailed off, turning to the rest of them to add, 'Well, most celebrations will be held during the tenth day services, though the actual day itself is the twenty-first of Uktar, the day after tomorrow.'

'St Aldulphi's Day,' repeated Fritha, 'that's the second time I've heard about it now. What is it?'

Anomen was quick to enlighten her.

'It is an Athkatlan tradition over four hundred years old. Aldulphi was a follower of the Illmateran faith. Of the peasant classes herself, she was known for her acts of selfless generosity, always sharing what little she had with those who needed it and when a plague ravaged the city she stayed behind where many fled to tend the sick, working to ease the dying even as she became one of them. It was through her sacrifice, it was said, that Illmater took pity on the city and Athkatla was spared. Though an Illmateran, many of the temples in the city held services celebrating her courage and altruism and the tradition grew from there. Every year on the day of her death and the end of the plague both, Athkatlans celebrate by giving what they can spare to others who are in need of it -though the traditions have been somewhat warped in recent times, the day merely an excuse for the city's nobles to flaunt their wealth, sending lavish gifts, making extravagant donations to their favoured temples and holding vast gatherings. I believe it is the poorer citizens who are the ones keeping the true spirit of the saint alive, sparing what little they can to help those less fortunate.'

'But how can you be sure this gathering is to be in celebration of that?' pressed Jaheira. Valygar gave a deep uneasy sigh.

'In my mother's journals she records that Deril, like many nobles, holds a ball in celebration of the day -an irony that no doubt affords him some amusement,' the ranger added bitterly. But it was an amusement that could be shared in, it seemed.

'A ball, you say?' Fritha smiled broadly. 'I bet the Lady Patron could get an invite.'


	76. Masquerade

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

_Author's note: Publishing a little earlier this week as I'm at wedding down in Wales as of tomorrow (congratulations Victoria and Adam! ;-) Thanks to everyone who left feedback recently, it's lovely to know what people think and, of course, a big thank you to my three betas._

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Masquerade**

It was curiously simple thing to bring about, Fritha having two tickets to the opening night of the playhouse sent out to Deril with her 'best wishes for St Aldulphi's day' and after a day of tense waiting, the very next morning a fine invitation of thick bleached vellum decorated in gold and inks arrived for her and a guest. Higgold nearly wept when she asked him to accompany her.

Backstage was busy even when compared to its usual air of industry, actors and stagehands all hurrying back and forth as Higgold shouted orders from the stage. Jaheira flattened herself against the wall as the pale old Alhana glided past with a wide basket of bobbins, threads of every colour unravelling within. The arrival of the invitations had suddenly set everything in motion, the rest of the morning spent planning their evening in infinitesimal detail before Fritha danced over to the Five Flagons to arrange things with Higgold. Wynn and Mayen had managed to find some old tunics and jerkins in the costume hamper, the servants of some long forgotten household, the pair working to repair and alter them. As luck would have it, it was customary for houses who held such gatherings to provide a similar if somewhat simpler celebration for the servants, so arriving with an increased company of help would not seem as unusual as it could have. Valygar, Cernd, Anomen and Jaheira herself had been agreed as the ones who would be accompanying the pair, Fritha working on the theory that though the local nobility may recognise Anomen or Valygar, the local servants probably wouldn't. Jaheira turned back to the open doorway next to her, Anomen on the other side of it as they both watched Fritha rooting through a large costume hamper set against the far wall, the girl pulling out petticoats and bloomers of various sizes and conditions.

'Well, it is too late for you to have a dress made,' Jaheira mused aloud as she watched Fritha heave out and promptly discard what looked to have once been a large frilly nightdress, 'I suppose we could try and find you something at the Promenade before the stalls close for the day.'

'Don't worry,' the girl huffed, bent double once more, 'I've a dress.'

Jaheira and Anomen shared a frown, the knight venturing, 'I mean no offence, my lady, but you cannot just borrow one from the actresses this time.'

'_I know_,' Fritha countered archly, 'will you both stop fretting, I told you I'm sorted for a dress. Ah ha, this should do,' she cried at last, straightening to pull a long strip of boned panels and yellowing lacing from the hamper. Jaheira frowned.

'A corset? Why on Toril do you need one of those?'

'For my _dress_ -I don't think it will hang right without one.' Fritha sniffed at it tentatively, her nose crinkling as she immediately turned her face away and Jaheira suspected it was hardly fresh after its time at the bottom of a musty old hamper. 'Well, I'm sure it will be fine after an airing,' the girl persevered, leaving the chaos of clothes still strewn about her and turning to pick her way delicately back to the door, raising her voice as she called along the corridor. 'Right, Higgold, I'm heading back to the Coronet now, are you all right to arrange a carriage for us?'

'Yes, yes, my lady,' assured the man himself as he dashed into corridor to answer her, 'not to worry. And I shall have the tunics and whatnot sent over once Wynn has finished making the alterations.'

'Wonderful, give her my thanks, won't you? Oh, and Jenna said she would lend me some shoes?'

'Yes, she had to return home to fetch them though. I shall have them sent over once she arrives back. Oh, to think I am to spend the evening in the company of Athkatla's most influential citizens,' he cried, looking suddenly enraptured, 'this is such an opportunity for the theatre -I'll warrant Bethseda over at the Crown will be _green_ with envy.'

Jaheira raised an eyebrow at Fritha. The girl had assured her she _had_ informed Higgold that they may have an ulterior motive for wanting to visit Deril's estate, though she clearly had _not_ given the man any further details of this and, for his part, as long as he got to attend the party, Higgold seemingly didn't care.

'Yes, well, I'm sure you've lots to do,' prompted Fritha, Higgold assuring her he had as he heard his cue and bustled off shouting for Meck.

'And are _we_ ready to depart, my lady?' asked Anomen; time was pressing.

'Just one last thing,' the girl trilled as she nicked back into her office to reappear an instant later with a plain drill bag. 'There, done.'

xxx

Cernd glanced up at the sound of the door, the small group of familiar figures headed by Fritha as she, Jaheira and Anomen returned from the theatre, the fact he was sat alone in the tavern and nursing the same cup of ale as when they had left him, causing a definite flicker of concern on more than one face, though there was no question of it as they arrived.

'Well, it's all arranged,' Fritha announced blithely, hefting her many bags back onto her shoulders, 'the carriage will collect us just after the sixth bells.'

Cernd nodded his thanks, trying to force a smile as all his fears were finally given a deadline.

'Right,' the girl continued after another wary pause and sending a cursory glance to the windows where the dusk was threatening, 'well, time is getting on. I suppose I should go and attempt to make myself presentable.'

Anomen muttered something inaudible and followed her, Jaheira sighing as she sunk into the chair next to him, a frown that was usually reserved for Fritha furrowing her broad brow.

'Cernd, are you well, you seem-'

'Tense?'

'I was going to say upset. Do you have reservations regarding the plan? It is not too late it you wished to continue gathering more evidence on Deril and perhaps try to gain custody of Ahsdale by more official methods.'

Cernd just shook his head, lifting his cup for another warm sour mouthful. 'No, this city will never award that child to my care –especially not if they came to learn what I am…'

'And how would they?' Jaheira cried, almost frantic as she grabbed his sleeve, 'Cernd, look at me! What is _wrong?_'

He stared back at her, those angled hazel eyes piercing right through him as though she could actually see the twitching anxiety of his heart. So much was resting on that night's plans, much that he was still unsure of and his desire to somehow thwart them himself was palpable, a sure and final end to those past few days of torture. And yet, that minute spark of hope just would not allow it.

'I am… fine, Jaheira, just worried about tonight and what we are to do –if you will excuse me, I would like to return to my mediations before the moon rises.'

The woman kept hold of his sleeve a moment longer before she relinquished him, leaning back in her chair with a defeated sigh and he felt her eyes on his back long after he had left the common room.

xxx

Aerie walked swiftly down the hallway, a bundle of foamy white muslin tumbling over one arm and swinging with her gait. She had just left Cernd, the man still in his room making his meditations and giving the appearance of ease, but she could tell he was nervous and he was not the only one. Tensions were building in their small group as the hour closed upon them and Aerie wasn't sure which was worse, knowing you would have to go and play a part in a task upon which so much was resting, or knowing you were to stay behind and just spend a torturous evening waiting. Aerie reached the door, knocking briskly and putting her face to the wood to call, 'Fritha, are you decent?

'Gods forbid, _no!_' laughed the voice on the other side, Aerie opening it to find the darkened room surprisingly tidy considering the chaos that usually accompanied such preparations. The window was slightly ajar and rattling in the rising wind, the corset Fritha had rescued from the theatre hung before it airing, while a small saucer of incense burned on the floor beneath, the frail tendril of smoke curling up towards the worn arrangement of bones and canvas. And the room was colder for it, not that Fritha seemed concerned, the girl sat at the dresser in only her slip as she was. Every lantern in the room had been set upon the counter before her to give the best light as she preened in the mirror, the rest of the room consumed by shadows and Aerie cast about her in the gloom for some sign of the so far fabled dress the girl had sworn she possessed.

'I brought my petticoat as you asked,' said Aerie, giving up her search and laying the thin layered garment out on the bed behind her, wondering if Fritha planned to go in that alone. Fritha's reflection sent her a smile.

'Oh, thank you, I was just finishing off my cheeks,' she explained. Aerie glanced to the soft sable brush and the small pot of vibrant carmine powder the girl had held in each hand to confirm, 'You're wearing _rouge_?'

Fritha turned to her, the apple of each cheek warmed to a rose-pink blush.

Yes, just a little -can you tell?'

'Well, no, not really,' the elf conceded, 'You've merely a healthy glow, like you've just had-' Aerie stopped herself at the last moment. '…Some really good news,' she finished weakly.

Fritha gave her an artless smile. 'Really? I don't know about me, but Cernd certainly has! Either way, it will be amusing to see if Anomen notices.'

'_Anomen_?' Aerie repeated, wondering how he came into the matter, the girl laughing as she nodded.

'Yes, I can just hear him now: _My lady, you look like a common prostitute!'_

Aerie smiled, listening to Fritha still giggling as she rose to take up the petticoat and moved behind the screen to change. Aerie crossed to the window and drew it shut with a protesting squeak, her attention caught for a moment by that dark blue city beyond the glass before it drifted up to the corset hung above her, the yellowing canvas now heavy with the scent of sandalwood and oranges, the faintest trace of mildew still lingering underneath.

'How is it?' Aerie asked, turning back to the plain dressing screen, Fritha's disembodied voice answering her.

'Fine, actually, I thought it might be a little tight.'

Aerie smiled, Fritha stepping around the screen dressed in the petticoat the girl had bought for _her_ so long ago, black stockinged feet almost blending into the floorboards and giving her the appearance she was floating as she smoothed out the many layers of frills that made up the wide frothy skirts.

'It fits you well. It is a touch loose on me. I always meant to take it in, but I never got around to it –and I suppose it is fortunate I did not.'

'Ah, you're in here, Aerie,' came a voice behind her, Aerie turning to see Jaheira marched through the door, knocking clearly something _other_ people did. 'There is a girl, Annalisé, downstairs looking for you -she said something about bringing her tortoise shell ones?'

'Oh, it's the combs for your hair, Fritha,' Aerie cried, half-turned to go and greet her friend. 'Annalisé is one of the illusionists, she has such long dark hair, always worn up with all sorts of pretty combs and pins, so I went back to the circus while you were bathing to ask if she had any we could borrow.'

Fritha beamed. 'Oh Aerie, that's so kind, thank you -and thank Annalisé for me too,' she called after her as the elf swept out, Fritha drifting over to the window to take down her corset and turning back to the woman still left.

'Are you fine to help me with this?'

Jaheira nodded, taking from her unresisting hands to begin to loosen the laces, casting about her as she did so. 'So where is this dress of yours then?'

Fritha smiled almost wistfully, moving back around the screen to appear a moment later with a deep green gown over one arm, the girl laying it out on the bed behind them and in the gloom it could have almost been a young woman taking a moment's rest before she was called downstairs to her carriage.

'Nalia gave it to me,' Fritha said quietly.

'It is very beautiful.'

'Yes, shame it's me who's going to be wearing it, eh?' Fritha laughed, giving the woman a nudge. Jaheira just smiled and shook her head, giving the corset in her hands one final tug.

'There, that should be loose enough -now put your arms up.'

Fritha followed her instructions, the woman placing it over her head and tugging it down past her shoulders until it was resting loose around her torso, Jaheira already at her back, working to re-tighten the laces and muttering all the while.

'Really, why some women must insist on forcing themselves into such unnatural shapes -right are you ready? Now, hold onto something.'

Fritha nodded, leaning forward to awkwardly grasp the windowsill as the druid worked down her back, tightening as she went and keeping taught the loops of slack on her spidered fingers like some strange game of cat's cradle.

'Come on, Jaheira, put your back into it!' Fritha teased, the woman's only reply a vicious tightening of the laces that left her breathless.

'There, how is that?' asked Jaheira finally, the woman sounding quite worn out for her efforts.

'_Perfect_,' Fritha gasped affectedly, grinning as she crossed to examine her reflection, her narrow frame now even slighter while her chest was flattened behind the corset's front panel, a solid triangle of whale bone that ran from the top on her chest, the point coming to rest just below her waist. 'Goodness,' she laughed, rapping lightly on the heavy boning, 'this could stop a crossbow bolt. Here, help me with the dress, I can't bend in the middle now.'

A few moments struggling and they were back before the mirror, Fritha now glorious in dark green silk, the rough weave shimmering dully in the light of the lamps. It was a simple dress, much belied by the opulence of the fabric -just a long narrow bodice, square-necked and coming to a point just below her waist, with short tight sleeves and long full skirts. But the style suited her and Jaheira wondered what the girl's life would have been like had Sarevok not pursued her, had Gorion never died.

'There, what do we think?' asked Fritha, blithely smoothing out the skirts. Jaheira cast her eyes over the reflection, unable to help a smile.

'Very nice -though your chest looks a little bare.'

The girl glanced down with an appraising frown, squirming as she tried to tug the bodice a touch higher. 'I didn't think it was too bad.'

Jaheira rolled her eyes. 'No, I mean you've no _jewellery_. You need some sort of pendent to break up the white of your neck.'

'Oh _right_… Well, can't be helped; my jade stone, ring and key don't exactly suit.'

'Ring?' repeated Jaheira, wondering when her odd collection of pendants had increased by one.

'Yes,' the girl confirmed as she leaned closer to the mirror and brushed some dried soap from her hair line, 'the ring of Gond I took from… Well, I went with Anomen to return it to the temple yesterday and explain what had happened. They did not recognise the man I described to them, though they said they'd certainly make investigations of their own and when I went to give them the ring they said it was not so uncommon a design and I should keep it with their blessings.'

Fritha had explained it all in that _very_ offhand way of hers that Jaheira had long ago realised meant the opposite, the girl's attention now upon the counter, seemingly trying to find something in amongst the jumble of pots, vials and the small carafe of wine.

'I see…' said the druid eventually, 'So are you going to add the temple of The Wonderbringer to your standard tithes?'

Fritha shook her head, finally turning from the dresser with a sigh.

'I don't think Gond would be very receptive; I still owe Him for that telescope.'

'What?'

A two sharp knocks shuddered the door behind them.

'Come in,' they chorused, Anomen stepping into the room, his eyes immediately drawn to the girl before him.

'Fritha…'

'Aye, I scrub up all right, don't I?' she laughed, her discomfort plain behind the hearty grin and he wished instantly he had managed to check his admiration, his manner friendly once more as he smiled.

'I never doubted it.'

'Jah-' came Cernd at the open door behind them, the man interrupting himself to add, 'Goodness, you certainly look the part, Fritha –Jaheira, Meck has arrived with the servants' attire.'

'Good, I'll just be a moment,' said Jaheira and just as suddenly the two druids were gone, leaving only he and Fritha.

Anomen suppressed a frown. He had not wanted to do this alone; he had wanted Fritha to have been with Jaheira or Aerie so she would not feel embarrassed or get the wrong impression -and after he had been trying so hard lately to behave as she had asked and pretend there was nothing between them. Even now, the air had taken on a certain awkwardness, Fritha immediately turning back to the dresser, the long silk skirts whispering with the movement.

'So,' he continued, anything to break the silence swelling between them, 'it is not long now… at what time is the coach arriving?'

'Just after the sixth bells -it is collecting Higgold first. I bet he is driving the troupe mad at the theatre, preening and primping, having them all running about after him –not that _I_ am in any position to criticise!' she laughed.

'I am sure Higgold will be very proud to have you at his arm,' Anomen smiled, adding hastily when he realised how such might be construed, 'you _are _the patron of a newly flourishing theatre, after all –not that you do not look nice, my lady, because, of course, you do; that colour most becomes you –not that you don't look nice usually, but, well, yes…'

He trailed off, feeling awkward, flushed and _very_ foolish. Fritha had turned and was staring up at him, her look unreadable, before she was stooped over the dresser once more, the silence descending between them again and he was struck by how quickly time was moving -soon the coach would be there and he would have missed his chance altogether.

'Fritha?'

'Hmm?' she inquired, keeping her attention _firmly_ on the small pot she was fiddling with.

Anomen swallowed, drawing the long narrow box from his jacket as he spoke and setting it on the counter before her.

'Fritha, I have something for you. I know you have no jewellery of your own and such a gown would look strange without at least some pendant or necklace.' He finally removed the lid, hooking a finger about the thin gold chain within to hold it up before her, a sparkling teardrop of pale yellow citrine, the stone freckling her face with spots of light reflected from the lamps as it twirled back and forth. 'It was my sister's. Moira had lent it to a friend before she, well… I suspect it was to keep my father from selling it -the young lady returned it to me at her funeral and I should like you to wear it; I think Moira would approve.'

Fritha just gazed at it, looking solemn and slightly sad.

'You do not have to wear it,' he continued quickly, moving to return it to its case but she stayed his hand.

'No, I should like to. Thank you.'

She moved to take the pendant from him but he had already unfastened it and before he could hasten to redo the clasp, she had turned and swept the curtain of hair from her neck. He placed it about her throat, taking care not to touch her as he fastened it, before stepping back a pace and she let her hair swing down again, turning back to the mirror to see the effect. And there they stood a moment, together within the frame: she all radiance in the light of the many lamps set upon the dresser before them, him slightly behind her and cloaked in shadows, the pale yellow stone sparkling at her throat.

'Right, the tunics are all in Cernd's room and I've got Jenna's shoes here,' Jaheira announced, the door swinging open to make them both jump. 'They look a little big though, so I've stuffed the toes with parchment.'

'And I have the combs,' came Aerie behind her, a large flat box of polished wood in her hands.

'Oh, thank you,' exclaimed Fritha, moving quickly to welcome them both in and Anomen wondered if it was not just an excuse to move away from him. Aerie smiled, handing the box to her to take a small wallet from her robes.

'Annalisé brought some earrings for you to try too.'

'Oh, that's nice of her, but they'll be no good for me: I haven't had my ears pierced.'

Aerie seemed surprised, peering at her ears as though she doubted her word.

'Truly?'

'Yes, I was always scared it would hurt,' Fritha confessed, looking rather lost as she began to laugh shrilly. Anomen frowned.

'Well, I shall leave you ladies to it.'

'What? Oh, yes, thank you, Anomen,' Fritha called after him, the girl turning back to the dresser and setting down the box with trembling hands. Aerie was frowning slightly, clearly concerned though she asked only: 'That necklace, Fritha, did Anomen give it to you?'

The girl nodded, not looking up from where she was nervously playing with one of the fragile shell combs.

'Yes -yes, he did -it was his sister's.'

Jaheira sent Aerie a look.

'Are you well, Fritha?' asked the druid, setting the black heeled shoes upon the dresser and reaching for the carafe next to them. 'Would you like some wine?'

'Oh, Gods, yes please!' Fritha cried, almost snatching the cup from her and gulping back the contents.

'Steady now, you'll choke yourself.'

Fritha just shook her head, the cup now empty and discarded to the dresser as she continued to chatter feverishly.

'Oh, Jaheira, I don't think I can do this!'

'What? Now, where is this coming from? You have engaged in such deceptions before and quite merrily as I recall.'

'No, not _tonight!' _the girl cried, almost wild, '_Anomen!_ He's trying so hard -and being so kind and- and strange at me! Oh, stop laughing!' Fritha snapped as Aerie was suddenly lost to giggling, her sharp anger clearly wasted on the elf's mirth.

'I knew it! I _knew_ you liked him!' she cried, pink in her joy, 'You've liked him all this time, haven't you? Ah, how wonderful!'

Fritha looked utterly appalled, her face glowing.

'_Shut up!_ I hold _you_ entirely responsible for this palaver!'

'Me? What did I do?'

'If you were any sort of friend you would have agreed to court him yourself like I suggested! You two are perfect for each other -you only deny it to put me in this situation!'

Aerie could make no defence to this, though her laughter was probably answer enough. Jaheira sighed, fighting against a smile herself as she placed a firm hand on either shoulder and forced Fritha to look up at her.

'Fritha, I know this may sound odd, but there is no weakness to loving someone,' she allowed herself a slight smile, 'even Anomen. Sometimes these things do not make sense. If you are finding you have feelings for him…'

Fritha said nothing, just shook her head as though her voice had failed her, her face crumpling with a heartrending misery and Jaheira gathered the girl to her, Fritha burying her face into her shoulder as she began to sob. Behind them, Aerie's laughter had come to an abrupt silence.

'I should, ah- I'll go and ah-.'

The door clicked shut, leaving the two of them alone, Fritha drawing back after a moment, her voice wavering as she fought to swallow her tears.

'Oh, Jaheira, I've made such a mess of things. I'm trying to be strong, for you and Minsc and Imoen but it's all so hard- and now there's Anomen. I'm trying to keep him at a distance but I'm so lonely. I know I've got you and Aerie but it's different, isn't it?'

'Oh, Fritha, of course, it is, there now.'

'But you just don't understand -he says things sometimes… he's so warm and I,' the girl dipped her head, her voice coming hoarse, 'I am so _cold_…'

Jaheira gave the shoulders that still rested beneath her hands a gentle squeeze.

'Then would it be so impossible to consider a relationship with him?'

'_No!_' the girl cried pulling away from her. 'You know how my life is, so dangerous for everyone close to me -Galvarey was right in_ that _at least. It would be different if I felt for Anomen as he feels for me, but I know it is just because I am lonely and it's not fair on him. He deserves someone whose heart sings for him, who can look at him with that soft look… the one he wears when he looks at me.'

Jaheira sighed gently.

'Then perhaps you should tell him that.'

'No, I can't!'

She sent the girl a measured look. 'Because you don't think it would be wise or because you're frightened?'

'_Please_, Jaheira,' Fritha begged, her voice breaking as tears threatened again, 'because I know he'll say he doesn't care, and it will all be horrible –Oh, I wish he'd never told me!'

'Come on, there now,' Jaheira soothed, ushering the girl over to the bed and sinking down onto the covers. 'Come on,' she sighed, tugging the girl's hair gently and Fritha instinctively lay her head upon her lap, Jaheira combing her fingers through the mess of curls. 'It is for just a little longer, just bear it all a little longer. We will have raised enough coin soon and we will fetch Imoen, and then- and then I will return with you to Athkatla and stay with you both for as long as you have need of me.'

Fritha sniffed, her voice sounding small. 'But didn't you want revenge on Irenicus.'

'A part of me does, yes, but a larger part would see you and Imoen safe and settled, and I think that would be the part that Khalid would have approved of…'

For a moment they were silent, the girl's head heavy in her lap.

'Oh, the sixth bells,' came Fritha quietly, straightening and dabbing at her face with the bed clothes, trying to regain some air of the presentable as the deep chimes resonated across the city outside, 'the carriage will be arriving soon. Could you help me dress my hair please?'

Jaheira smiled wry, ruffling it with a gentle hand.

'I think we both know Aerie will be the one to trust for such a task. I shall go and fetch her.'

xxx

Valygar rolled his shoulders, feeling constricted and ill at ease. The plain brown tunic he was wearing had been let out at the sides with inserts of a similar fabric, though it was still not quite broad enough for his back, Anomen sat across from him and looking just as uncomfortable in a tunic of olive green which did not fit and did not suit him. The air was tense, the low rumble of the crowded common room about them strident and oppressive, Cernd and Minsc sat at the same table as they, the Rashemi drinking steadily while the druid at his side kept his eyes trained upon the scratched pitted wood on the table.

The knight glanced up, something in the common room clearly catching the man's eye and Valygar could make a guess at what as Anomen turned away again an instant later, the ranger glancing back to see the three women stepping from the stairwell, their cloaks over their arms. Aerie looked just as she usually did but Jaheira had changed, now wearing the green skirt and pale tan blouse she had been brought from the playhouse, while Fritha was barely recognisable. Her hair was up, though only in the most tenuous sense of the word, the back of her head just a loosely gathered mess of curls that was pinned here and there with delicate tortoiseshell combs, a hand casually holding up the long green skirts of her gown as she chatted merrily with Aerie, looking as easy and natural as though she wore such every day.

And Valygar was not the only one to have noticed, Hendak calling something to them that made the three laugh and some people were openly staring as they crossed the tavern. An oily man sat on the table opposite turned to give him a lecherous grin and Valygar scowled back, feeling an angry pleasure in watching the man return hurriedly to his drink. He was not happy with their plan, the idea of letting a man such as Deril escape proper justice went against all he believed. But there had been similar clashes of viewpoints in his previous party on occasion and he had realised long ago that in these groups of strong opinionated people such conflicts were to be expected, and he respected the decision of the majority enough to go along with it.

'Ah, young Fritha,' exclaimed the Rashemi with a genuine delight as the three women reached their table, 'Boo says you look like a _princess!_'

The girl gave a familiar toothy grin that was quite at odds with his compliment. 'Excellent, that was _just_ the air I was going for. Right, are we all ready?'

'We are just waiting on the carriage, my lady,' answered Anomen, 'though other than that we are all prepared.'

'Well, that's fine, but for goodness sake don't say a _word_ once we get there, Anomen!'

'Why ever not?'

'Because I've yet to meet a servant who sounds more well-to-do that his master. Try to give your voice more of a local cadence, you know, more _Oh gawds blind me, m'lord, I ent ne'er seen such a gatherin'_,' Fritha cried in an accent so broad as to be ridiculous, the ensuing laughter taking the building tensions down a notch, even Anomen managing a smile as he assured her if the situation arose he'd just mumble.

A rattle outside, all heads whipping to the sound.

'That's the coach,' said Jaheira.

Something confirmed but moments later as Higgold staggered through the door, the man gasping as though he had just run all the way from the bridge himself.

'There you are, my lady –sorry, I'm late. Oh, it is quite the tempest out there. I've got Ketrick driving as you asked. The driver the carriage arrived with is back in the inn taking ale with some of the cast -at the theatre's expense, I should add. I do hope he slows down though –the rate he was drinking when I left he won't be able to see straight to get home.'

'All right, time to go,' announced Fritha, Aerie stepping closer in the ensuing disorder as drinks were finished and cloaks were thrown on.

'Be careful, all of you.'

Fritha smiled, clapping the Rashemi at the elf's side on the arm. 'Don't fret, you two, we'll be back soon enough. Right, go on, you lot, into the carriage. Higgold and I will come last.'

Outside the air was damp and not as cold as it could have been, a light rain carried in the intermittent breeze, a large plain black carriage stood in the street a yard or so from the door, two dappled grey horses between the shafts and old Ketrick hunched upon the driver's bench.

'Yes, it is quite the maelstrom out here,' muttered Valygar to the man at his side, Anomen's lips twitching as he climbed into the carriage behind him, Jaheira and then Cernd following them before, at last, Fritha and the still flapping Higgold climbed inside, the pair nearest to the door ready for their arrival.

'It's a good job I was going for that _charmingly dishevelled_ look,' Fritha sighed, patting her hair back into place and reaching up to thud the wood behind her head. A sharp snap as Ketrick whipped the reins and with a jerk they were off, the wet streets racing past the small windows as a tense silence fell over the carriage that even Higgold had sense enough not to break.

Deril's estate was across the river in the far northwest of the city, but even so it hardly seemed a moment later they were being ushered through the gates by a tall servant in a fine blue coat, an entwined pair of silver serpents embroidered upon the sleeve. The man pointed them to the procession of coaches that were queuing around the circular drive waiting to deposit their occupants at the main steps, the torches that lined the edge guttering in the breeze.

'I'll leave my cloak here, it does not suit this dress,' murmured Fritha, just undoing the clasp though the fabric moved nowhere, wedged as she was between Valygar and the wall.

The carriage slowly edged around the driveway before rattling to a halt at the steps, a similarly uniformed footman opening the door and lowering the step, Higgold descending first and leaving it to the servant to escort Fritha down as the director gazed up at the fine stone manor before them, the many large windows glittering in the light of the torches. Other couples and groups were all about them, hands upon on hats and hair as they hurried up the steps to get inside and out of the slight breeze, the footman confirming there were staying and shouting instructions to Ketrick, Valygar unable to see their old driver though he could hear him muttering through the wood behind his head.

'Aye, aye, round the corner on my left, you jumped-up little- Have yourself a good evening there, m'lady,' he shouted down to his passengers much more politely.

'Yes, you too,' Fritha called back, the girl letting her eyes linger on the small carriage window and the shadowy faces still within, before turning to begin her ascent, Higgold at her side, the girl having to remind the man to offer her his arm with a nudge and a hiss, though it did not look too out of place, Valygar watching a stout woman just ahead of them surreptitiously scold her broad and seemingly oblivious husband about wearing the wrong shoes.

And then the scene was gone, Ketrick whipping up the horses once more and the carriage rumbled on, turning down the side of the house to eventually find a place just outside the stables next to a few other coaches. Their horses were left in the capable hands of a few stableboys, one of the young lads directing them to the other side of the stables and they followed the neat gravel path that skirted the buildings to finally reach the back of the house where a large marquee had been placed in the grounds in anticipation of the inclement weather. The large house gave some shelter from the cool breeze though, the gathering lit by the bright windows of the nearby kitchens, a few torches set on the far side to keep the shadows at bay. A band was gathering in one corner of the dance floor, most of the guests stood or sat on the benches that edged the dance floor chatting in twos and threes, or milling about the long table that ran along the far side of the marquee, the wood groaning under the weight of dishes and carafes, an assortment of breads, meats, cheeses and ales provided by the kitchens.

'Right,' muttered Jaheira as they surveyed the crowd, 'everyone remember the plan.' And then if suddenly recalling something herself, she glanced to the old man at her side, 'Ketrick, did Higgold tell you why we came here?'

The old stagehand shrugged indifferently.

'Nope. Don't know and I don't care so long as I get some free ale without having to listen to that halfling talking fifteen to the dozen.'

'Just don't get drunk and mention the theatre,' Jaheira hissed, Ketrick waving away her warning with a gnarled hand as he watched the gathering.

'Aye, aye, missy -Hey, Anton, what you doing here, you old bastard? I thought you-'

His voice was lost to the crowds, Valygar considering the old man was doing better at blending in than they were, stood in an uncomfortable knot on the edge of the gathering. Something which had not gone unnoticed, a merry rosy-cheeked woman, her wispy blond hair escaping from the coiled braids at her ears, nudging the tall dark-skinned man next to her and soon the pair were heading straight for them.

'Oh, hello there,' the woman greeted cheerily, the lines at her eyes creasing as she smiled, 'I'm Molly the cook here, and this is Crow the Head Gardener and my husband. I don't believe I recognise any of you though.'

'We are not from Athkatla,' said Jaheira, ready with her lie, 'Our mistress is wintering in the city on business.'

'Aye, we've a couple here like that,' said Crow, his accent as broad as his smile, 'just help yourselves to food and ale. Here, this way.'

'Oh, I just love to meet new people,' Molly trilled as they followed the pair awkwardly across the dance floor, Jaheira stiff as the cook slipped a companionable arm about her elbow, 'Now, let me guess, you're a lady's maid? I'm right? Oh, good and your must be a, er, coachman?'

Cernd nodded once and the woman beamed, glancing back to the remaining men as though she had not noticed them before, 'And- well, goodness, what does your lady keep you two for?'

'Guards,' said Valygar curtly.

'Does she often expect trouble?'

'She finds her entertainments in the _rougher_ areas of the city.'

Crow barked with laughter. 'Ah, likes slumming it does she? Idiots nobles- what?' he cried as his wife gave him a meaningful nudge, 'Ah, they know I'm only joking, Molls. Listen, none of you play the flute, do you? The under-gardener, Darred, hurt his hand earlier, the stupid eejit, so the band's one short. No?' he confirmed at the four blank faces, 'Ah, no matter then, have a good evening.'

And the pair bustled off leaving them at the laden table, the man's arm around his wife even as she scolded him for being 'too free'.

They stayed for about an hour, splitting up to mingle with the other servants and waiting for the final few people to arrive and the band to start up before they regrouped on the far side of the dance floor, the jig that was currently in full swing providing cover for their conversation.

'Right,' muttered Jaheira, a smile forced and manner light as she spoke, 'it should be crowded enough here now for our absence to go unnoticed. Valygar and I will slip off and walk about the house as agreed and see if we cannot locate the library while you two maintain our presence here.'

A nod each from Cernd and Anomen. Jaheira turned, Valygar at her heels as they edged back towards the table, lingering there an instant before slipping between the two large azalea bushes behind them and turning about to come face to face with Crow bearing two large carafes, replenishments for the gathering they had just left.

'Oh, hello there,' he greeted, Jaheira trying to work out an explanation but her throat had suddenly closed.

'Ah, we-'

'Just off for a spot of fun, eh?' he laughed genially, 'Don't blame you, though you've a cold night for it. Sune wish you joy!'

And off he went, strolling back to the gathering without a backward glance. Jaheira glanced to the man next to her, the ranger's eyes light with a smile and they both shared a brief snort of laughter before they were off once more, carefully skirting the kitchens to begin their search.

They circled the house, peering into the darkened windows and avoiding the lighted ones. It had been Fritha's idea, none of them knowing the layout of Deril's property to be able to suggest a suitable place to meet and so the girl had suggested the library in that it was likely to be empty and Deril was bound to have one. Now, they just had to find it.

On the other side of the house, a tall stone veranda jutted out into the grounds, glass-panelled doors showing glimpses into the glittering ballroom beyond, the people inside small from that distance, a rainbow of brightly coloured figures that flittered and darted behind the glass like some strange aviary. Jaheira paused a moment, waiting for her eyes to catch on a blot of green or copper but it did not happen and she and Valygar finished their search to walk back to the servants' gathering. Cernd was sat alone, Anomen caught in conversation with the ever-cheerful Molly, though he quickly disengaged himself as he noticed their arrival, moving to join them and the druid at the edge of the table.

'We have made our search,' began Jaheira, 'the library is not situated on the ground floor.'

Anomen cast an appraising glance up the building behind them. 'The second floor will likely be the servants quarters, so the library must be on the first, probably somewhere in the core of the building near to the main staircase.'

Jaheira nodded.

'Valygar and I will enter through the kitchens and use the backstairs to reach the first floor and from there we'll continue our search. I just hope Fritha takes her time.'

xxx

Fritha let the brilliant chaos of colour swim before her eyes, the room about her so bright as to be dazzling; lamps set against the walls at every yard while overhead huge chandeliers cast glittering light over the confusion of coloured gowns and coats. Deril's ballroom was beautiful but in a very lavish way, all white marble columns and heavy blue curtains, every stick of furniture in there lacquered or gilded as though the actual wood itself was not deemed fine enough alone. The musicians were taking their break and the dance floor thronged with groups of people all talking and drinking, the ladies laughing behind their fans, seemingly ashamed to be seen so amused.

Fritha sighed inwardly. She would have never thought it possible before at such a gathering, but there you had it: she was _bored_. She rather liked wearing the corset -it made her stand up straighter if nothing else- but Jenna's shoes were hurting her feet fiercely, the heel much higher than she was used to and the parchment pricked with every step. Higgold had left her an hour ago, continuing his search for _advantageous acquaintances _as he had put it, though Fritha had just remained where she was, stood against the wall and quite overlooked in the surrounding splendour.

The director was not too far from her now, in fact, talking to two stout older ladies who were so covered in bows and frills and feathers she wondered how there managed to be room in their dresses for _them_. Fritha glanced back to the grand marble fireplace behind her and the small clock set upon the mantelpiece. It was getting on for the tenth hour now, about three hours into the party and half an hour past the time she had agreed to meet the others in the library, but the final part of her plan was proving to be problematic. She let her eyes scan the hall before they came to rest once more upon that familiar pale figure, the man still hale for his advanced years, Deril standing tall and striking in a doublet of dark blue velvet as he held court within yet _another_ group of guests.

Fritha sighed, turning away once more and inadvertently catching Higgold's eye and in a moment of unprecedented chivalry he had suddenly excused himself and was crossing the room towards her, pausing only to pluck a glass of wine from a server as he passed.

'Ah, my lady,' he sighed infatuatedly as he handed her the glass, 'I cannot thank you enough for inviting me along this evening- the people, the _connections_.' Fritha almost wondered if he was planning to faint from the sheer rapture of it all when he seemed to gather himself to add, 'But you do not appear to be enjoying yourself, my lady.' He cocked his head in a sympathetic look, 'Are you finding the company a little daunting?'

Fritha dipped her face to sip her wine and hid the impatient frown both. 'Not _quite_. I need to speak with Deril on a private matter, but he is always surrounded by people.'

Higgold laughed airily.

'Well, just go over there and interrupt.'

'_Higgold_, I can't just waltz over there and elbow his other guests out of the way!'

'Well, no, I would not suggest that,' the director conceded, taking her arm to continue in earnest, 'but this is a _ball_, my lady -true civility was handed in at the door with our invitation. Look about you; everywhere people laughing at things they think are asinine and complimenting each other of clothes they would not be buried in, or taking the time to enquire about each other's insipid broods. All as fake as the plays we entertain them with.' He sighed, enraptured once more, 'Ah, I _love_ it… There now, who is Deril engaged with now?' he continued, Fritha finding the mage in the crowd once more, now talking to a stout woman of middling years with oily black hair and a thin ungenerous mouth.

At her side, Higgold drew a theatrical gasp.

'Oh, is that- is that _Bethseda_ from the Crown? How did that old _cow_ manage to get herself an invitation? _Well_,' he huffed as though she had only been included as a personal insult to him_,_ 'Deril has _certainly_ gone down in my estimations if he is willing to request the company of that uninspired _hack_. Come, my lady,' he cried, linking an arm about her own and pulling Fritha with him, 'I am more determined than ever you should have your meeting.'

'_Bethseda_,' Higgold cried, the woman turning at the noise and instantly engulfed as the director threw his arms about her and exaggeratedly kissed both cheeks, 'my _darling_, is it you? I hardly recognise you without the grey in your hair. Oh, Bethseda, you must come and tell me all about your latest production.'

And without the women even uttering a word she was being swept off by Higgold, Deril and Fritha sharing a moment of speechless amazement as they stared after them, before both seemed to realise they had been left together. The old mage was studying her from beneath his grey fringe, though it was clear he hadn't the faintest idea whom she was and Fritha wondered if Deril had even seen half the invitations _he_ had sent out. Fritha took the lead and bobbed a curtsey.

'Your pardon, my lord, but I merely wished to thank you for your invitation to these grand celebrations.'

He nodded his head, the slightest hint at a bow as he intoned insincerely, 'Your words honour me, my dear.'

'_And yet_,' she cut in hastily as he made to take his leave, 'and yet I would offer you so much more than words, my lord. I believe you were once acquainted with the Corthala family, namely her Ladyship, Adess Corthala.'

'I know nothing of that name,' Deril snapped coldly. Fritha dipped her head in mock repentance, turning to regard him knowingly as she continued, 'I meant no offence, my lord; indeed, _we_ need have no fear of the dead. But it is her very much alive son of whom I should like to speak to you. You have heard of his dislike of mages? That he recently murdered two Cowled Wizards as well as the famed necromancer, Lavok.'

She had his attention now, Deril staring down at her, pale blue eyes burning.

'Who are you?'

'A friend, my lord, and one who has it on good authority that the Corthala heir has returned to the city and with a desire to rid it of his mother's associates. I heard from the Bridge District guards that two students, Rowid and Stefan, have already been found dead.'

'And how did you come by this knowledge?'

'I am something of a student myself, my lord, though the Cowled ones refuse to sponsor me.'

'They rejected your apprenticeship, did they?' Deril concluded curtly. Fritha dipped her head and did not correct him, saying only, 'Maybe we could discuss this further, my lord, somewhere more quiet -a music room or your library perhaps?'

Deril nodded wordlessly, turning and clearly expecting her to follow, Fritha keeping her face dipped against the smile as she placed a hand at her skirts and tripped lightly after him.

xxx

Anomen retook his seat on the bench next to Cernd, the young maid who he had been dancing with returning to her small knot of friends on the other side of the floor for them all to enjoy a shrill giggle, the knight just managing to suppress an eyeroll as he turned to the druid at his side.

'How long has it been now?'

'Too long,' the druid answered curtly, continuing with a nod to the dark-haired maid who was still trying to make eyes at Anomen, 'Should you have been speaking with her? You heard our _mistress, _your song marks you as an outsider to the other birds here.'

'The girl spoke to me and asked me to dance, I could hardly ignore her.'

Cernd sighed into the ale cup he had been holding since they arrived. 'How quickly the plover forgets his chosen suit when a new potential mate preens her plumage for him.'

Anomen frowned, the man's antagonism unusual enough to raise his concern rather than his temper.

'I do not know why you are trying to draw out my ire, Cernd, but I would ask that you cease.'

The druid sighed again, stooping to set his cup down on the grass at their feet and remaining hunched as he rested his head in his hands.

'I am sorry, Anomen, I… Have you ever been presented with something you both desire and fear in the same instance?'

Anomen swallowed as he was given a glimpse of a feeling he had once been so infused with, the desperate longing to join the Order coupled with the fear to try and face the unbearable shame as he was denied their ranks.

'The Order,' he admitted after a pause, 'I wished to join but I feared I was not worthy.'

'And what if,' Cernd pressed, suddenly turning to face him, the desperation plain on his face, 'what if joining the Order had terrible repercussions elsewhere, upon someone else?'

'I- I don't really understand…'

'That what you desire could be someone else's ruin until you are no longer sure of what you want. Ahsdale is happy here. He does not know of me or likely recalls his mother –How can I take him from all he knows?'

Anomen shook his head, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. 'I know this may not be the most supportive stance to take, Cernd, but _now_ is _not_ the time for you to be having misgivings. If you no longer wish to pursue this plan-

'You do not understand,' the druid cried, 'you think this some simple decision for me! The longing to have Ahsdale with me, it is like the sky or the sea, a great endless expanse of feeling. But at the same time such fear. You know what I am; Deril should not be the one to raise him, but does that mean I should? It-it is like being back in the Promenade, in that life in the pottery where I was two men being torn apart by my conflicting desires.'

The knight sucked in a terse breath. They did not have time for this. Anomen took Cernd firmly by the shoulders to ask again, 'Do you wish to abandon the plan? Say now and I will march inside, fetch Fritha, and we will all leave, but you must say _now_.'

Cernd seemed to falter a moment before he hung his head.

'I would continue.'

'We have found it,' came a voice, Jaheira appearing behind their bench, 'Valygar is there now- what is going on?'

'Nothing,' sighed Cernd, shrugging Anomen off as he turned to her, 'you say you have found the library?'

'Yes, we just need an opportunity for us all to slip away and-'

Laughter cut her off. A young lad who was well into his cups had climbed up and was dancing on the end of the table, Crow laughing along with the others while Molly tugged at her husband's sleeve, scolding him and the boy both. Jaheira sighed.

'I imagine that will do –come on.'

xxx

Deril had stepped back to let her enter first, Fritha moving into the darkened room, her eyes immediately drawn to the high ceiling and the huge window of rain-speckled glass that opened out onto the clouded sky, casting all but the edges of that cavernous room in a pale ghostly light. What little she could see of the walls were filled floor to ceiling with bookcases, a narrow balcony set halfway up, convenient ladders placed at regular intervals.

'Your library is beautiful,' Fritha sighed quite sincerely.

'I am glad you think so,' came his voice behind her, warmed with a conceited smile, 'especially since it will be the last thing you see.'

Fritha whirled back with a sharp gasp, the old man before her seeming so much taller than before, a thin curved dagger suddenly clutched in his long skeletal fingers.

'But, but I came here to help you!' she cried, slowly backing away from him, 'I have information-'

'Yes a little _too_ much, I fear. I thank you for the warning about the Corthala whelp though, I will be sure to take additional precautions from now on –perhaps even arrange for him to meet with an accident. Do not worry, my dear, remember, _we_ have nothing to fear from death.'

'I- I'll scream!' she squeaked. Deril smiled, his gaunt face just a leering white skull in the gloom.

'I would hope so, though there will be no one to hear you.'

Fritha grinned. 'Excellent.'

And she watched with a cruel delight the slow transition from triumph to dread play out upon the old mage's face as the point of that fine katana came to rest between his shoulders and Valygar rumbled, 'Drop the knife.'

The blade hit the carpeted floor with a dull thud, Deril's breathing deepening as two more emerged from the shadows either side of him, Anomen stooping to retrieve the knife as Jaheira moved to join the girl before him, Fritha clapping her hands delightedly.

'Oh, I love it when a plan comes together. How was I? Did I overact it?'

'You were the epitome of the distressed heroine,' assured Jaheira with a wry amusement.

'Oh, thank you.'

'Who are you all?' snapped Deril, this irreverence seeming to annoy him more than their trap, 'I demand-'

'The time for your demands is over Deril,' came that eerily mellow voice, Cernd finally stepping from the darkness at the back of the room to face him. Deril managed the impossible as he became even whiter.

'_You_ again? I warned you before, the child is _my_ kin now! You have no claim to him!'

'He is my son,' said Cernd simply.

'No, he was _Galia's_ son. She is dead and now he is mine!'

'And how _did_ she die, Deril?' The druid pressed, advancing slowly into the room, 'because we have evidence that may suggest her end was not natural.'

The old mage snorted. 'You have no evidence of that sort and so I freely admit it was by my hand the killing blow was dealt.'

'You _murdered_ her!' roared Cernd, Jaheira and Fritha sharing a wary glance as Deril gravely shook his head.

'No, I believe that honour belongs to you. Everything that Galia was died when you left, Cernd, I merely finished the thing. A little hemlock slipped into her wine -she would have felt no pain. I believe it was a mercy in the end. Foolish woman, I would not have killed her at all but for her refusal to let me adopt Ahsdale. She would always maintain that you were the father and that however you had neglected them she could not rob you of that right. Such a noble soul,' he sneered, his contempt obvious, 'you understand I expect _much_ better from Ahsdale.'

'Silence!' barked Cernd, the man beginning to tremble. Jaheira took a step back, eyes never leaving the mage even as she placed a hand upon the druid's arm.

'Do not bait him, Deril, or you will be more sorry than you can imagine.'

Fritha nodded, smoothing her lips together as she made to play her hand.

'You're right, Deril; we don't have evidence you murdered your wife, but we _do_ have plenty of proof that links you to two grave robbers who were murdering people about the city in order to supply your need for corpses. Now, I will admit it is not enough for the Magistrates, but for the people of Athkatla…'

She trailed off letting the implications of her threat take root before continuing casually, 'Besides, we only really have to prove you're a necromancer… Did I introduce you to Valygar here? I believe you moved in the same circles as his mother for a time –we have evidence of _that_ too.' Fritha smiled, cocking her head playfully to one side as she considered, 'I wonder how busy your gathering would be next year, if all the other noble houses were to hear rumours of your rather _unsavoury_ practises. Oh, I doubt they'd really care, but they would have to be _seen_ to disapprove -it's all about keeping up appearances after all. But then, would the Cowled Wizards be so indulgent of your studies if your name did not carry the weight it does now?'

Deril's nostrils twitched but other than that there was no sign of emotion on that pale skull of a face.

'What do you want?'

'Ahsdale and no repercussions,' said Cernd hoarsely. Fritha nodded.

'And then you will never hear from us again; you have my word.'

The two men stared at each other, eyes locked in a cold hatred when at last Deril turned, Valygar following him over to a bellpull just beside the door. Deril gave it a single sharp tug, time flowing slowly by before a polite knock at the door broke the silence and the mage opened it on a young maid, Valygar poised just behind the door, blade ready for any betrayal.

'You rang, my lord?'

'Edith, bring Ahsdale here at once and tell his nurse her services are no longer required –she is to leave first thing tomorrow.'

If the girl thought anything odd in his orders she did not show it and Fritha considered that perhaps staff that asked questions did not last long in Deril's service. An agonising few minutes of waiting and the knock came again, Deril opening the door and taking the blanket-wrapped bundle from the girl.

'Thank you. Now get back to the party,' he dismissed, the girl just bobbing another curtsey and pulling closed the door. Deril turned back into the room, the old mage jogging the sleepy child as he began to whimper, his voice strangely tender as he soothed, 'Come now, Ahsdale, do not fret. There,' Deril continued, the chill back to his voice as he thrust the boy at Jaheira, 'now take him and go!'

Jaheira was already heading for the door, Cernd just behind her as Valygar stood with katana aloft, guarding their retreat though Deril was not even watching them, the mage walking slowly away from them, further into his library to be lost in the shadows.

They left the library at a jog, hurrying after Valygar along corridors and down the backstairs, the way thankfully free of servants, the group finally crossing the kitchens and they were back in the darkness of the grounds. Outside, the wind had picked up and the rain was heavier for it though the servants' gathering was still going strong, the sound of music and laughter echoing over the grounds. The others headed straight back to the coach, Anomen returning briefly to the party to collect their driver; Ketrick thankfully still quite sober and more than happy to be heading home for the evening.

'Right, are we all in?' asked the old stagehand as he clambered up onto the driver's bench, though it was more to chivvy them along than any real question, half their group still stood before the carriage door and hurrying to get inside, no one willing to linger and tempt Deril to a change of heart. 'And where's Higgold?' continued Ketrick as he scanned his remaining passengers with a frown.

'He's walking back,' laughed Fritha, waiting as Jaheira passed Ahsdale to someone inside the coach before the druid climbed in herself, Valygar following her, Fritha stood at the open door as she made the last of her orders.

'Right, that's your lot, Ketrick. Take them back to the Coronet and then get yourself back to the Flagons, I'll collect Higgold and walk him back to the theatre before joining you. Gods, throw me my cloak will you, it's perishing out here!'

Anomen said nothing, but made no move to join them in the carriage and Jaheira assumed he would be escorting her.

Valygar glanced up at the house next to them, his face grave. 'And so Deril goes free.'

'For the moment, at least,' said Fritha the girl rooting in her cloak pocket before leaning up to pass him the two rings and Deril's folded list. Anomen watched the exchange with a frown.

'But, my lady, you gave Deril your word.'

'Yes, well, that's me headed straight to Carceri,' Fritha accepted with a laugh and a sigh. 'Besides, Valygar made him no promise. Though you had best get enough evidence to have him _at least_ sent to Maztica,' she continued to the ranger, 'because I do _not_ want to add undead hoards to the current list those out for my blood.'

For the first time in her memory, Valygar laughed warmly.


	77. Walking the boards

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. Nor do I own _Symptoms of Love_ by Robert Graves.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

_Author's note: Special thanks go to my new beta, WellspringCD, and her tireless efforts to weed out all the grammar and punctuation errors (of which there are many). Thanks, too, to Maje, Drew and arabellaesque and to everyone who left feedback in 2008 and Happy New Year._

**Walking the boards**

Jaheira could sense she was hovering and disliked herself for it, the woman fussing over them both as Aerie strove to nurse the struggling Ahsdale, the boy screaming and crying, his face screwed up and scarlet from the effort.

'Careful, Aerie, support his head.'

Aerie sighed tersely, battling to get a hand under it while she tried to stop him from twisting free and being dropped altogether.

'I- I'm trying, he keeps struggling. There now, Ahsdale, please, don't cry,' she beseeched, the child ignoring her, no break to his howls as he twisted and thrashed.

A blast of cold wind whistled down the chimney, rain hissing in the fireplace and the crying went up a notch. St Aldulphi's Day had gone well enough for some, though Jaheira would have been hard pressed to list them at that moment. Ahsdale had awoken properly just after they had left the Deril Estate, frightened and fretful when he found himself surrounded by strangers, his nurse nowhere in sight, and his distress only mounted over the course of the short journey back to the inn. They had gathered in Cernd's room as soon as they had alighted from the carriage, the room warm and welcoming in the light of the lamps though it did little to calm the child, she and Aerie taking turns to try and sooth him while Minsc stood helpless before the fireplace cupping a hand over Boo's ears; Valygar and the druid himself nowhere to be seen.

Jaheira glanced back at the sound of the door, Fritha crossing the threshold with Anomen at her heels, the pair looking rather windswept. Fritha was almost back to her usual self, her feet ridded of those _torturous _shoes, hair now taken down and jewellery removed, though the girl was still resplendent in the rich green gown, the skirts moving with an almost seductive sway as she padded into the room on stockinged feet, her voice raised as to be heard over the din.

'Gods, he's got a fine set of lungs on him, hasn't he? You can hear him all the way down the corridor –much to the other guests' displeasure,' she added with a laugh.

Jaheira sighed tersely, in no mood for her levity, especially since their long and somewhat stressful day suddenly had no end in sight and she was just glad Hendak was in charge; Lehtinan would probably have thrown them out for the disturbance by now.

'Really, Fritha, are you _still_ prancing around in that dress?'

Fritha sent her an arch look. '_Yes_, because I can't actually take it off without _help_.'

Behind her, Anomen flushed.

'Here, Aerie, let me,' Fritha continued briskly, stepping forward to deftly take the boy from the elf, 'Oh, there now, Ahsdale, what's all this fuss, hmm? Ah, yes, I know, I know,' she soothed, adjusting the struggling child until his small body was curled against her shoulder, face hidden in her neck, the girl rubbing his back and jogging him slightly until, after a good few moments, his cries eventually ebbed to a quiet sobbing. Aerie looked astounded.

'How, _by goodness_, did you manage that?'

'Children can sense unrest and they don't like it. Do they, my lamb?' Fritha confirmed, smoothing a gentle hand over the dark head of curls that was still resting on her shoulder, a fretful hiccup her only reply. 'I know, my poppet, I know. Now, let's have a few less people in here, shall we?' Fritha continued, her voice brusquer as she returned her attention to the room about her, 'And where is Cernd, shouldn't he be here enjoying this?'

xxx

Jaheira found him outside, Valygar silent at his side, the pair of them stood in the alley that ran alongside the inn and sheltering under the deep eves from the now sheeting rain.

'Here you are,' she sighed, Cernd glancing up at her voice and Jaheira wondered if she had ever seen anyone look more broken, his worn face as wan as the flaking plaster of the wall behind him.

'I- I just could not bear the crying, he- he just would not stop.'

'Yes,' soothed Jaheira, 'but he is calming now. Fritha is upstairs with him- she has a way with the young. And none of this was to be unexpected,' she continued, wondering just what the man had thought the child's initial reaction would have been, 'Ahsdale has gone through quite the upheaval this evening-'

'Yes, exactly!' Cernd burst out, suddenly wild, 'What have we _done?_ I've torn a child from the only father he has ever known –what gave me the right? Deril may be a necromancer, but will I be any better a father?'

'Cernd, you have to calm down, this will help no one, least of all Ahsdale.'

'_Help?_' he repeated shrilly, 'But Ahsdale was never my first concern, was he? All my focus upon my own selfish wants.'

Jaheira glanced to Valygar, the ranger frowning as he stepped in to try a different tack.

'Cernd, Deril was evil-'

Cernd laughed feverishly. 'Yes, but so was your mother and she raised you so nicely.'

Valygar drew a long slow breath and continued tightly, 'When I was a child, my mother had yet to be corrupted. Who knows what she would have done were I still young enough to be in her care in those last few years. Deril _murdered _your wife; what more proof need you?'

But this mention of his estranged lady seemed to be the breaking point for Cernd, the man falling back against the wall to cry up to the eves, 'Oh, dear Galia, that I had never discovered any of this!'

Jaheira sent Valygar a stern look, the ranger throwing up his hands and stalking back inside to leave them alone.

'Now, listen, Cernd,' Jaheira continued gently, 'you are just worried. Fatherhood is a daunting prospect, but remember what you told me, about how you would have given anything to be with your child. How you felt a part of you had died when you had to accept you would never know him.'

But Cernd was shaking his head, his body trembling as he began to back away from her, a feral fear twisting his face. 'But to want something does not mean you should obtain it! I cannot -I can't do this! I have to go! I have to-'

In one swift movement, Jaheira had slammed him back against the wall in a shower of plaster.

'It is too late for such doubts, Cernd! You have your child returned and he _needs_ you, so stop this _nonsense_ and pull yourself together! Listen to me. Fritha did not demand the boy, she gave Deril a choice: be discovered as a necromancer and face what would have likely amounted to little more than the city's scorn with the tenuous evidence we had, or to hand over Ahsdale. And he chose. Deril chose to keep his studies and lose his son. What does that show you?'

The man said nothing, just hung his head, his body limp in her grasp and Jaheira sighed, relaxing her grip to place an arm about his shoulders and half wishing there was someone about to do the same for her.

'Cernd, if you give in now, you will regret it. Come on,' she pressed gently, ushering him forward, 'come upstairs and meet your son.'

xxx

Anomen shifted slightly, the wooden frame under him creaking with the movement. The room was empty save for he and Fritha, him sat on the bed and watching as she paced slowly back and forth across the room, Ahsdale still curled against her shoulder. She had had Anomen dim the lamps once everyone had gone, the room lit only by the low fire that was flickering in the hearth, the rhythmic creak of the floorboards and the drumming of the rain against the window a familial lullaby.

The child was completely quiet now and Anomen wondered if he was asleep. If he was, Fritha certainly looked ready to join him, her eyes half closed and lips barely moving, keeping up a soothing murmur at his ear as she walked him and Anomen watched the pair feeling somehow very contented.

'Do you ever think of having children, my lady?'

'Hmm?' she enquired distractedly before his question seemed to register, 'What, _children?_ My goodness, no!' she exclaimed with a quiet laugh, 'Can you imagine me stomping about, all rounded and fat with child?'

She laughed lightly, smoothing a free hand over the curve of her imaginary bump. Actually, Anomen could, though he decided to keep _that_ particular daydream to himself.

'And then to have it,' Fritha continued, still bemused as she turned to continue her pacing, 'well, what would I do? Bundle it up and carry it on my back while I'm off chasing dragons? I can't see that being ideal.'

'I did not mean now, of course, Fritha, but later perhaps, when your life has… calmed.'

She frowned at his persistence.

'_When_ my life has calmed? Don't you mean _if_? No,' she dismissed nonchalantly, turning back to the boy in her arms and jogging him as he began to fret, something of the wistful creeping in as she continued, 'No, I don't think so… yes, _ba ba ba_,' she repeated as the child patted at her face with a clumsy hand, babbling drowsily. Fritha smiled, turning as the door behind her creaked open, Jaheira and Cernd appearing in the doorway, the man bearing that wrung-out look that came from feeling too much all at once.

'Hey now, Ahsdale, look who's here,' she trilled softly, giving the child a gentle jog to rouse him, 'It's your father, Cernd.'

Ahsdale lifted his head slightly, turning to regard the man through bleary eyes and the druid looked overcome, his words choked by emotion.

'I- thank you for this, Fritha, I- I can never repay-'

'Hush, Cernd,' she scolded softly, 'where is that mellow serenity you are famed for? Here, come sit next to me.'

Fritha sank on to the bed, patting the space at her side, Anomen moving along to make room for the druid as Cernd sat between them, Jaheira leaning against the footboard. And there they sat, Ahsdale between them as Fritha gradually passed him over, showing Cernd how to talk and sooth him when he fretted and at last the child was curled against the druid's body sleeping deeply.

'He is grown enough now that he can sleep in a bed with someone,' said Jaheira quietly, 'I think he should stay in here with you.'

Cernd nodded absently, smiling as Ahsdale muttered something in his sleep.

'I can stay in here too, if you like,' offered Fritha, finally tearing her eyes from the sleeping child. Cernd shook his head.

'No, I am sure it will be fine.'

Fritha swallowed and nodded once, rising from the bed in a whisper of silks. 'Well, I'm- I mean, _we _are just a room away if you need anything.'

Out in the corridor it was as though the dim peace of Cernd's room was another world away, Fritha looking tired and worn in the bright glare of the lamps.

'Ah, I'm fit to drop. Will you come and get me out of this dress now, please?'

Jaheira nodded, the pair turning towards Fritha's room.

'Night then, Anomen.'

'Goodnight, ladies.'

And he watched them until the door was shut.

xxx

Jaheira sat on the bed, Cernd at her side though her attention was fixed on the window just past him as she watched the fat wedge of sun gild the eastern rooftops, the woman closing her eyes in the dazzling light but making no further move to turn away as she felt its meagre warmth through the glass. Her visit to Cernd had been an early one, for there was much still to be discussed, but even so, Fritha was already there when she had arrived, Cernd explaining that the girl had been on her way back from the washroom when she had heard Ahsdale crying, the druid sounding more than relieved by this coincidence, Fritha and the boy now sat playing on the hearthrug.

The previous day had been quiet, a quick trip to the Promenade with Aerie for some much needed items for Ahsdale the only time Jaheira had left the inn. The rest of the group had kept close to the tavern as well, Fritha and, for the latter part of the afternoon, Aerie spending the day in the druid's room playing with Ahsdale, the young bard utterly delighted with their newest addition, while Cernd and Jaheira sat on the bed behind them discussing his future as a father. It seemed Cernd knew he could not stay in the city even if he wanted to -the risk that Deril may decide to take retribution was too great and that really left only one place for them to go.

'Fritha and I went out after we left you yesterday evening,' said Jaheira, finally turning back from the window, 'the taverns at the city gates are well known by the caravan drivers. We found one going to Trademeet in couple of days who is willing to take you along.'

Cernd nodded once and deeply. 'I thank you. For both the trouble you have gone to for us and the pains you take still.'

His gaze seemed to drift involuntarily to the pair on the floor before them, Fritha sat while Ahsdale was stood unsteadily between her bent knees, the girl's hands over his as she showed him the actions to her song.

'_Wind the bobbin up, wind the bobbin up. Pull, pull, clap, clap, clap!'_

'Well,' sighed Jaheira, making to rise, 'we should leave you and Ahsdale to make yourselves ready. Fritha, come along-'

But the man hastened to interrupt her summons. 'No, no, I am glad of her company, she has such a way with him.'

'Sorry?' questioned Fritha, glancing up at her name, the boy still stood between her legs and now sucking on her knee. 'Oh, are we going? Come on, Ahsdale, let's get you dressed then.'

And Cernd turned to pull his boots on, seemingly content to leave Fritha dressing his son, Jaheira watching as the girl fished out some clean clothes from those few they had bought the previous day and letting Ahsdale choose which tunic he wanted to wear before hastily stripping him of the one he had slept in.

'Skin a bunny!' she trilled, the boy seemingly reluctant to put on his fresh one though Fritha ignored his mild fretting, briskly placing it over his head and pulling it down with a 'Boo!'

Ahsdale laughed, reaching out to press a tiny hand over her mouth, which Fritha kissed and promptly placed in its corresponding sleeve, the girl changing his trousers with a similar deftness and gently tidying his hair with her fingers.

'There, Ahsdale, we're ready to hit the town. Are you set to go as well, Cernd?' she asked, turning to the druid as she heaved herself up though his answer was forestalled, the boy at her feet whimpering as he held his arms up to her. 'And what's wrong with your legs, eh?' she laughed, stooping to lift the child on to her hip, Ahsdale shrieking delightedly and reaching up to try and catch an inviting curl.

'No,' warned Fritha sternly.

'_No_,' he mimicked, eyes sparkling as he pretended to make another grab for it and shrieking with laughter as Fritha gathered him up and swung him around.

'No, no, no!'

Jaheira glanced to the man next to her, Cernd watching the pair with a rather wistful smile, though he said nothing.

**…**

Jaheira stirred the porridge listlessly about her dish, no longer hungry. They were taking breakfast much later than usual and intentionally so, all waiting until the mid-morning when the common room would be quieter for Ahsdale. This was the first morning he had been brought down there, the child spending the previous day entirely within the confines of Cernd's room and he was getting quite a bit of interest from their own group as well as their usual servers, a group of maids cooing over him until Bernard sent them back their chores, the stout barkeep seemingly just as charmed as they, producing a toffee for the boy from somewhere on his person (which Jaheira promptly confiscated for fear of the child's teeth) and gently ruffling his hair before leaving their table in peace.

'So you have decided your course then?' came Valygar once the attention and the fuss of their food arriving had died down as well, everyone now settled and eating.

Cernd nodded, setting his cup carefully back on the table, his other hand clamped firmly about the boy sat upon his lap. 'Indeed. I will return to the Druid Grove just east of Trademeet.'

'Will they accept you back?' asked Aerie, 'They seemed rather… wary of you when we were there last.'

The druid sighed. 'I doubt they will welcome me with open arms but they will allow me to live there –no true druid would refuse another his right to live within the grove and I am on good terms with old Verthan at least.'

'But how will you return there?'

'We asked about the city gates yesterday evening -did we not, _Fritha?_' prompted Jaheira, the girl glancing up from where she had been distracted by the child, Fritha's own breakfast ignored in favour of slowly feeding Ahsdale his, the child wearing a look of deep concentration as he obediently took another piece of bread soaked in sweetened milk from her fingers.

'Yes, yum yum, good boy. Hmm? Oh yes, there is a small caravan leaving for Trademeet in a couple of days and they are happy for Cernd to journey with them -you can take Donkey with you as well, if you like,' she added in afterthought.

Cernd smiled. 'My thanks again for your trouble; I fear the way would have been impossible alone.'

'But far too dangerous with us along, yes?' laughed Minsc genially.

'Oh, what is it, my pet?' Fritha cooed as Ahsdale began to fret, Cernd helping the girl take the child from his lap and Jaheira dropped her attention back to her bowl as she felt herself frown. Fritha was growing too attached to the boy and Cernd gave his care up all too willingly. Jaheira felt for them both. Cernd needed to learn to handle Ahsdale alone, not only for the child's sake but his own as well, the man still wracked with doubts as to his aptness as a father. And as for Fritha…

Jaheira laid her spoon down, at last giving up on her breakfast. She knew where the girl's feelings likely stemmed from. It was a shame really, but that was the way of things sometimes. She would have to speak to her.

'I can hardly believe you will both be gone soon,' sighed Aerie, leaning over to gently hook a stray curl behind the child's ear, 'Will you need any more supplies for the journey?'

Cernd nodded. 'Most definitely. Ahsdale has little more that what he is wearing now and the journey back to Trademeet will be difficult enough even as part of a caravan.'

Fritha beamed, bouncing the child on her lap much to his delight. 'Ooo, I feel the Promenade is beckoning, don't you, Ahsdale?'

'Indeed,' said Jaheira shortly, gently taking child and dumping him unceremoniously back on to Cernd's lap. 'We can all go.'

But it turned out not all of them wanted to. Minsc was meeting with Hendak to discuss the fighting pits of his homeland, where wrestling and bloodless duels entertained the crowds, the ageing gladiator wondering if the same could be used to bring some extra coin into the Coronet now the fighting pit over at the Hatchet had been shut down. Similarly, Anomen had plans to visit the Order for news of his friends who were apparently away on campaign in the Cloudpeaks, while Valygar was returning to his estate to look for more evidence of Deril's misdeeds and this left only the three women and Cernd.

Outside in the street, Ahsdale was crying again, his droning grizzle audible even over the low roar of the people that bustled past as Cernd tried to quieten him. Fritha had crossed the road with Aerie to chat with the red-faced old laundress, Margred, who was stood on her step enjoying a moment in the cool air, though Fritha had glanced back as the child's cries caught her ear and she had almost reached the struggling pair when Jaheira placed herself before her path.

'What is it?'

'I am sure they are fine on their _own_,' said Jaheira pointedly.

Fritha frowned, her confusion plain as she tried to peer around her. 'But, I can-'

'Fritha,' Jaheira reminded sternly, 'he needs to learn to manage on his own.'

'Well, yes, but, I just-'

The druid swallowed, hating herself already.

'I am aware of your… predicament, Fritha.'

The girl stopped, her face suddenly blank, seemingly needing no more to confirm, 'Imoen told you.'

Jaheira made a movement somewhere between a nod and a shrug.

'I asked her after making my own observations; she merely confirmed what I already knew. We cannot know why Silvanus chooses to bless some and deny others, but-'

'No, you're right,' Fritha cut in with a briskness that stung, 'it does not matter as to the reason, it only matters that He _has_. He has made his decision and I was denied. But that does not mean I should ruin this opportunity for Cernd –only go over there and help him yourself, won't you?' she added dully, 'I can't stand to see the boy in such a state.'

Jaheira made no answer but it did not matter, Fritha already turned away and starting a slow path from the slums, leaving the others little choice but to follow.

Fritha sighed, forcing a smile in return to the one the elf sent her as Aerie caught up to walk at her side. She had been unable to see before Jaheira had pointed it out, how her _help_ had just been preventing Cernd from bonding with the boy, but it all seemed so obvious now and her subsequent shame was hard to bear. She had known for a while now that such joys were not meant for her and she felt foolish for letting it affect her so. Everything seemed to be affecting her at the moment…

Anomen had come to visit her the previous morning and she had returned to him his sister's necklace. She did not know what reaction she had expected, but he had just nodded and accepted it with a bland smile, everything returned to normal between them, just like it had been –just like she had wanted. Fritha made a careless swipe at a loose stone with her foot and missed by a long way, feeling frustrated and unreasonably melancholy.

Behind her Ahsdale was still crying and she let her attention wander to the street about them, trying to block it out, her eyes falling on the stout scarlet-cloaked figure of one of the city criers who was stood on the corner just ahead of them, the man currently telling all who would listen that the opening night of the _Sorcerer's Bane_ was but two short days away. The girl felt her stomach do an unpleasant flip. Criers had been shouting the news about the city for days now. Every time she heard them she got butterflies –and not the nice sort either, Fritha unable to shake the feeling that after a production so fraught with difficulties, something was _bound_ to go wrong.

'It is not long now, is it?' Aerie confirmed with a nod to the man, finally breaking the silence between them.

'No, it's not,' muttered Fritha, not really wanting to talk about it. Thankfully, neither did Aerie.

'So, did you speak to Anomen this morning?' the elf continued nonchalantly, with all the subtly of your average berserker.

'You know I did,' said Fritha tartly, 'I don't think you took your eyes from us all through breakfast.'

Aerie blushed but continued undeterred, 'You know what I meant. Do you plan to tell Anomen-'

'No, I don't, Aerie,' Fritha cut in, no desire to discuss the night they had dressed for Deril's gathering and what she may or may not have disclosed in one of her more fraught moments, 'and I would be grateful if you didn't bring this up again.'

'But, Fritha, why-'

'Look, that's enough now,' Fritha snapped, 'You must stop trying make a relationship out of us –it isn't fair on Anomen _or_ I.'

Aerie shook her head, the elf clearly in earnest. 'But, you-'

'No, that's it! When are you going to realise that getting Anomen and I together is not going to make you and Haer'Dalis any less apart!'

Aerie mouthed a moment in her indignation.

'You know I _never_-!' she paused to compose herself and when she spoke again her tone was cool, 'You can be very cruel sometimes, Fritha.'

'_I_ can be cruel?' the girl repeated shrilly, 'And what about you? All this- this _persistence_ does is remind me of what cannot be. Now Anomen has given up on this and I think it is time for you to as well.'

Aerie exhaled crossly but said no more, the uncomfortable silence of a truce falling between them that neither girl saw fit to break.

**...**

The relatively fine day had brought many to the Promenade –_unfortunately_. Their small group was stood at the western end of the arena, their shopping barely begun and already Jaheira wished she had never suggested the trip. Ahsdale's grizzling had yet to stop and she was not sure if it was just that her patience was getting shorter but he seemed to be getting louder, the boy attracting quite a bit of attention as he continued to scream and sob, the friendlier merchants laughing and pulling faces at him, while older women paused in their own shopping to coo over the boy or tut at his father's attempts to jog, rock, pat and plead; his efforts to sooth the child all in vain.

Cernd was stood a pace from her now, sheltering from the crowds against the arena wall, Aerie and Fritha over at a nearby stall, united even though the memory of their most recent quarrel was still keeping communication between them to a minimum, Fritha asking the merchant about any work he might know of, while Aerie idly examined his wares. Jaheira ignored the bustle and discord about her and tried to focus on maintaining her centre though she was having about as much success as Cernd.

'I cannot do this,' he sighed eventually, taking the still howling Ahsdale from his shoulder and making to hand him over to her. 'Jaheira, could you-?'

'No,' Jaheira refused firmly, taking a step back to emphasis her point, 'you need to learn to manage on your own.'

'But, Fritha-'

'Has it right. You are panicking, becoming agitated; children do not like it. We have already established that he is not hungry or in need of changing,' she continued practically, trying to recall what little she had gleaned of child care from her admittedly limited experience, 'so just take a deep breath, find your balance and let him draw on your peace.'

Cernd sighed again, though tersely this time, easing Ahsdale back to his shoulder to continue his appeasement. Ahsdale continued his crying.

And things did not grow any better over that day or the next. After their return from the Promenade, yesterday had passed in a listless, fruitless search for work and that one was to be continued that day as well, it seemed. Fritha had already been over to the Council Buildings with Aerie that morning to confirm there were no suitable bounties for them to pursue –that was unless the group wanted to collect on she and Jaheira, the girl had quipped grimly, and Anomen had returned from his morning prayers with much the same news from the Temple District. It was almost noon now, the majority of their group gathered in the common room just passing the time until they would take their midday meal together -something which would have been much more peaceful had it not been for Ahsdale's continuing distress. The boy had been fretting since he had been brought down there, but a good half hour ago someone had dropped a bottle behind the bar and the ensuing shatter of ceramics had been enough to fright him into proper tears, Cernd sat with the boy on his knee wearily going through the motions of trying to sooth him.

Bernard had said nothing so far, though Jaheira wondered how long that would last; he had other guests to consider, after all. As for her own companions, Anomen was reading, the only other man at the table, Valygar and Minsc muttering an excuse as soon as Ahsdale began his cries, the pair seemingly brothers in trying to escape from the child. Aerie and Fritha were supposed to be studying their magic, but this had been promptly abandoned under the circumstances, Aerie now practising her embroidery while Fritha worked on her odes.

Jaheira watched as the girl sighed and scribbled out something with such impatience her stylus tore the parchment. Fritha had been distant with everyone since the day before, giving both Ahsdale and Cernd a wide berth to the point where she did not even look at the pair. Jaheira understood how it must have stung to have them there, a constant reminder of what she could not have, and with the theatre's opening night now only a day away, Fritha had another reason to feel anxious. As though Jaheira had given voice to this thought, at her side, Anomen spoke up over the cries.

'So are you visiting the theatre today, my lady?'

'Sorry?' Fritha murmured, glancing up only to blot ink on the word she had just written.

'The theatre,' repeated Anomen gently, 'the opening night is tomorrow, is it not?'

'Oh, yes. Yes, it is. I don't know if I'll visit though, I-' Her answer was lost to a terse sigh as a group of mercs trooped noisily into the inn and Ahsdale's crying increased in ferocity. Anomen looked concerned.

'My lady?'

'I'm sorry,' Fritha snapped shrilly, stacking up her books to sweep them into her waiting bag, 'I just can't stand it here a moment longer.'

'Fritha, where are you going?' cried Aerie as she stood.

'Theatre.'

Anomen was on his feet in an instant. 'Wait, someone should-' The slam of the door cut him off.

'Leave her, Anomen,' Jaheira counselled wearily, 'she just needs to be alone at the moment.'

'But what of the bounty?'

'Fine, go after her, then!'

The knight took only a moment to vent his own frustrations as he slammed his chair under the table and he was gone too, Ahsdale's howls peaking to fill the air.

'I should take him outside,' muttered Cernd, hefting the crying child to his hip and heading for the door. Jaheira sighed, sharing a tired look with the bewildered Aerie, the elf the only one left as Jaheira rose as well to follow him.

Cernd was stood a few paces from the door, hunched slightly against the tavern wall and murmuring as he rocked the child back and forth. He was a handsome boy, though it was hard to see it then, Ahsdale red-faced and teary, mucus running down from his nose to crust on his chin, the new woollen tunic he was wearing twisted about his small frame as he squirmed half-heartedly.

'Oh, Ahsdale,' Cernd sighed, 'I am sorry, I am sorry for all of this.'

'Cernd?' she ventured quietly, the man whirling back at her voice.

'Oh, Jaheira, I cannot do this, I was a fool to think I could. Such bonds of kin come from time, not blood.'

'Yes, Cernd, _time_,' she agreed gently, 'so keep your patience and hope alive a little longer before you would abandon them. I understand you are still finding it difficult, but such bonds can be made and it _is_ getting better. You managed to quieten him yesterday-'

'No, I did not,' Cernd cut in dully. 'He wept until Aerie came to visit him in the evening and once she left he cried until he was too tired to continue. He does not want me as father.'

'And what would you have us do?' cried Jaheira, despairing for them both, 'Return him to Deril's care? Or give him to one of the city orphanages? Is that what you want?'

'Of course not! But it is not so simple, I am not just a man…' Cernd stopped, and swallowed dryly, 'If… if I lost control and hurt him-'

But Jaheira would not hear it.

'You do not truly believe that, Cernd, or you never would have allowed us to fetch the child back in the first place.'

'I-'

'No,' she cut in firmly, no patience for excuses borne of dark imaginings. 'You are stronger than that. You would not have done anything to put the boy in danger and you will not harm him now. I know it is difficult; Ahsdale does not know you yet, nor you he, but this will change over time and the bond between you will form, but you must start to believe it, Cernd, or how can he?' The woman shook her head. 'Forget what I said about peace and balance, and just hold the child to you and love him, Cernd, just let the feeling of it fill you. It does not matter if he cries or if it quiets him, only that he knows you care and that you will still be here for him -_that_ is what is important.'

Cernd stared back at her, tired and broken, before he at last took the boy from his hip and held him aloft to regard him a moment, pale grey eyes taking in every feature as he thrashed and cried, when the druid gently gathered him back to his shoulder, leaning back against the inn behind him and closing his eyes as he began to slowly rub the small shuddering back. And there they stood in the cold quiet street for long enough that Jaheira's fingers were almost numb. But Cernd seemed not to notice time's passage, his worn face bearing a strangely contented smile as he cradled the boy to him and, at long last, Ahsdale's crying ceased.

xxx

Fritha walked, letting her mind drift as her feet trod the familiar cobbles of the bridge, the solid sandstone building of the Five Flagons coming ever closer. She had spent much of the day the same, just wandering the city despite the danger, first going to visit Donkey, who seemed much happier in the stables than he ever had out travelling in the wilds. From there she had taken a turn about the temples and then the Promenade, watching all the people with trades and gods going about their wonderfully ordinary lives, before spending the rest of the afternoon in Oghma's shrine, dreaming the time away and scribing for merely the pleasure of it. But her day was over now, the moment when she would have to return to reality almost upon her and she thought a trip to the playhouse would be as good a trial as any to ease her into the thing.

Fritha stopped, her feet seeming to register it before she did as she finally closed upon the tavern and her eyes took in the man who was sat upon a collection of old crates that had been discarded against the bridge wall just before it, his gaze watching the world around him with a rather wistful look. It was Anomen.

He glanced up as she approached, raising a hand in greeting that she returned vaguely as she asked, 'Anomen, what are you doing here?'

'Waiting to walk with you back to the Coronet; you should not be travelling the city alone.'

'Oh, er…' she faltered, glancing to the theatre she was supposed to be inside. Anomen smiled kindly.

'I am not here to scrutinise your actions, Fritha; I am not your keeper.'

Fritha made no answer to this, merely dipped her face as she took a seat next to him to ask, 'Have you been waiting long?'

His mild shrug indicated he probably had been, though he said only, 'Do you need to go inside and speak with them?'

'No, not really,' she sighed and for a few moments neither of them spoke, Fritha watching a pair of merchants further along the bridge talking and laughing as they packed up their stalls for the day.

'It does not seem a day ago when we were all in the Promenade buying supplies for that first journey out of the city. So much has changed since then, so many of our company have come and gone and yet it never ends… To think, after tomorrow Cernd will be gone too –though at least the circumstances are something to be celebrated.'

Anomen nodded. 'Yes, it is heartening how everything finally worked out for he and his son. It is conclusions such as these that help to remind me that no hope is in vain.'

Fritha smiled absently to herself.

'It struck me as I walked today how little they have but each other, and yet how little they need. Still, that didn't stop me getting Ahsdale something from the Promenade though,' she confessed, pulling a soft toy rabbit of white felt from her bag with a laugh and looking over it fondly. 'All children should have at least one plaything, especially if they are to be raised alone.'

'As you were,' said Anomen quietly and Fritha nodded.

'Imoen did not arrive till I was seven. Until then I had only adults and a _very_ overactive imagination for company …' She smiled wistfully. 'Duck and Lion: my only companions in a keep full of sages. Both small enough to fit within my hand, Lion was a small stuffed lion of yellow and brown felt, all bobbled and worn, while Duck was painted wood, a tawny mix of browns and tans, every feather brought out in the fine brushstrokes and one of her wings already chipped when she was given to me. They were very different and would quarrel sometimes –I had to play the peacemaker even then. Lion was so strong and brave, he was never frightened -even of Ulraunt. Always roaring about going on adventures and wanting to rush in before thinking, but he was kind and tender-hearted too. Duck was cleverer and _much_ quieter, proposing caution and reflection. She could have a spiteful streak too sometimes, though it was rarely directed at me.' Fritha drew a deep breath, suddenly tearful and out of sorts, shaking her head at herself as she exclaimed, 'Oh, you must think me so strange, Anomen, I don't know what made me remember all this now.'

'No, no, my lady,' he assured her gently, 'all children play such games, they just usually have someone else with whom to play them.'

Fritha nodded, though she did not look very reassured. She had been rather fraught of late, more than likely a combination of the opening night of her play drawing closer and the ever-present threat of the Harpers hanging over them. Anomen wished there was something he could do to alleviate either of her troubles and he had to keep reminding himself that she did not want his concern.

'Imoen had a toy octopus,' Fritha continued quietly, 'all wooden segments held together with string that Winthrope brought back for her from one of his visits to Beregost. I remember it was bright orange and she named it –she named it _Mr Jaffa!_' she cried, struggling to get the words out for laughter, glancing to him as it finally faded to ask, 'What about you?'

Anomen smiled faintly. 'I had a stuffed toy dragon who arrived to me with the name of Clifford. He was given to me by my uncle when he came to visit us just after Moira was newly born. We would go on adventures together –before dragons were something to be vanquished rather than befriended. After that, all my toys seemed to be wooden swords and armour and then I was at the seminary and there was no more time for games. So, what became of Duck and Lion?'

Fritha shrugged, though she seemed a little more cheerful.

'Oh, I imagine they are still sat side-by-side upon my desk in my old room –they were when I last returned to Candlekeep. To be honest with you, I didn't really play with them anymore after Imoen arrived; I had no need to. Come on,' she sighed, rising stiffly, 'we should be getting back.'

'Do you not wish to go and make one last check?' Anomen asked, gesturing to the theatre before them. Fritha shook her head and he could see her wry smile as she turned to start back to the slums.

'No, no. The way Higgold's been throughout production, I imagine Meck will arrive to inform me if one of the stagehands gets a splinter.'

xxx

It was morning. Not so early for it to be unusual for him to be awake, though not so late as to shame him into rising and Anomen lay under the warm blankets watching the clear sky though the chink in the curtains, the pale cloudless blue of another cold dry day. He lay still, keeping his breathing shallow so as to better hear as he listened to sounds of the inn waking up around him: guests clattering down the stairs to the common room; the laughter of the maids under his window as they took a break from the heat of the kitchens; someone knocking on a door in the hallway outside. And knocking… and knocking…

Anomen felt his stomach sinking. It sounded quite close by, likely the door of the room just opposite his. Fritha's room.

Anomen threw the blankets back, hurriedly pulling a tunic over his head as he strode blindly to the door, opening it even as he struggled to straighten his tunic to see Meck stood before the door opposite, hammering upon the wood and making racket enough to awaken the recently deceased. The boy whirled back as Anomen appeared though, a frown furrowing his brow as he exclaimed, 'Ere, you're that knight o' hers, aren't you? Where-?'

But the boy had no time to finish is demand, the door at the end of the long corridor opening to reveal Aerie and Fritha, the girls half-dressed, bags in hand as they left the washroom, Fritha whistling a merry tune though it stopped abruptly as she saw Meck, the girl looking instantly horrified.

'He could just be coming to- to tell you everything is ready,' reasoned Aerie hastily. Fritha sent her a furious look.

'_This early?_ Oh, Meck, _no!_ There can't be, not today, _please!_''

'Oh, m'lady,' Meck cried, ignoring her pleas and jogging lightly over to the pair, ''iggold is frantic and the rest o' the cast aren't much better. Zeran's fallen sick: 'e's pale and shivering and catting all o'er the place.'

Fritha scrubbed a hand across her face, the fingers of the other already clawed in her frustration. 'Brilliant! Just brilliant! And when did this happen?'

''E started feeling funny over dinner yesterday afternoon, m'lady.'

'_Yesterday?_' she repeated shrilly, 'And _why_ didn't someone come and tell me _then?_'

'Well, 'iggold 'oped 'e'd get better, didn't 'e?' the boy reasoned, leaning in to add in an undertone, 'plus I think 'e were a bit afraid to since last time with the script and that.'

Fritha almost screamed. '_Besheba's Horns!_ Well, where's his _bloody_ understudy then?'

Meck had the good sense to at least look sheepish. 'Well, you see, in the beginning Davith were learning Zeran's part too, just in case like, but 'e 'as enough trouble with 'is own lines, so 'iggold just sort o' let 'im off.'

Fritha looked positively wild.

'_Gahhh!_ I knew this would happen, I bloody knew it! Wait here!' she commanded, stalking past him to storm into her room and slam the door, presumable going to change, the boy she had left seemingly unfazed by this outburst, turning to Anomen to add candidly, '_Wait 'ere, _she says -ha! There weren't no way I were going back to that play'ouse without 'er, -'iggold's doing 'is nut!'

**...**

Aerie had, quite wisely, gone and quickly roused the others, and everyone had decide to accompany Fritha in the end, which was likely for the best -Anomen felt it might take all of them to restrain her once she met Higgold, though her anger was much reduced from what it had been when Meck first arrived. Anomen glanced to her, Fritha walking next to him as they followed the boy through the cold streets, the girl moaning piteously to herself.

'Right outside, we were _right outside!_'

'Come now, my lady,' he reasoned gently, 'even if you had known, what could you have done?'

'But we were just _here_ yesterday- this is so _mean_,' she whined, looking as close to tears as he had ever seen her without the girl making attempts to hide it.

'Well, perhaps it is not as bad as we believe –Higgold is not exactly known for his level head.'

Fritha didn't look too hopeful but his words did seem to have some effect at least, the girl drawing a deep breath and squaring her shoulders as they at last came to the Five Flagons.

'No, you're right, there's no point wailing about it now. Whatever the problem, I'll just have to work something out –thanks Meck,' she added as he skipped lightly up the front steps and held the door open for her, the boy already halfway across the room, making a dash for the stairs.

'I'll go tell 'iggold you're 'ere.'

'It's all right, I'll-'

But the words died on her lips as she suddenly saw him. Bent over his drink at the table in the far corner: a familiar head of dusky blue hair.

'Haer'Dalis?' gasped Aerie and for a moment both girls wore the same expression of injured disbelief. The tiefling did not look surprised to see them, rising slowly to stand, shifting from foot to foot and looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable as they drifted over to him.

'Hello,' he greeted, his eyes darting about them and he seemed to relax slightly as he found them all there, his gaze lingering on Aerie for a long moment before the elf turned away.

Fritha was smiling faintly; it looked sad. 'Hello, Haer'Dalis.'

'Hello, indeed, my raven. It is good to see you -it is good to see you _all_. And I notice some newcomers too,' Haer'Dalis continued with a stalwart cheer, starting as he spied the child in Cernd's arms, 'By the Lady, you are starting him young!'

'This is Ahsdale, Cernd's son,' explained Aerie quietly, gently taking the small hand the child had batted at her so as not to have to face the tiefling. Haer'Dalis made the slightest hint at a bow.

'Well, it is fine to make your acquaintance, young man -and who is the dark hawk among your company who watches us all so carefully?'

'This is Valygar,' Jaheira introduced shortly, 'Valygar, this is Haer'Dalis.'

Haer'Dalis raised a dusky eyebrow. 'Valygar? The Wizards' prize? My, my, Raven, you have been busy.'

The tall ranger nodded once in greeting, no change to his stern expression as he confirmed, 'I take it this man was once a member of your company.'

Fritha's tone was as impassive as her face. 'Yes. Yes, he was.'

'Oh, my Lady Patron!'

Anomen watched as Fritha drew a deep breath, slowly turning to face the director, Higgold hurrying over to them from the stairs, his arms flailing affectedly as he cried, 'it's a disaster! A disaster!'

Fritha sent him a cool look and her tone was no warmer.

'Yes, Meck told me Zeran is sick, though I don't quite know what you expect _me_ to do about it –it's not as if I can just pull an understudy from my… _bag_,' she finished slowly, her jaw clenched, and Anomen had the feeling she had just wrestled herself away from something a lot more _robust_.

Higgold looked genuinely surprised though. 'Do about it? Why you can stand in for him, my lady.'

'_Stand in?_' Fritha repeated incredulously, 'You _have_ to be joking, Higgold! In case you haven't noticed, and this really is the _least_ of my objections to this plan, I am a _girl_.'

But Higgold waved this fact away with a dismissive sweep of his hand.

'With the right make-up and clothes you will pass. It is the performance that matters after all.'

'Yes,' agreed Fritha sharply, 'a performance that _cannot_ be delivered by me. Think about it, Higgold, I've never been in a play before in my _life_ -I can't act!'

Higgold attempted a light titter; the man was a lot braver than Anomen had ever suspected.

'How can you say that, my lady? You just admitted yourself you've never tried. Lady Patron,' he reasoned more gravely when he could see his little quip was about an inch away from getting him punched, 'Athkatlan audiences are notoriously unforgiving. To postpone the opening night would be disastrous for our reputation -we would be ruined! We would have to send notice to all the nobles we invited informing them of the cancellation for a start-'

'And I suppose it would be better to have them come and see some _half-wit_ who is the wrong gender and doesn't know half her lines prancing about the stage, would it? Perhaps this will teach you, _Higgold_, that next time make sure there's a _BLOODY UNDERSTUDY!_ …Surely, Zeran can't be that bad,' she added much more calmly, 'Perhaps Jaheira or Cernd could have a look at him.'

Higgold frowned. 'I have had a physician from the Illmaterans examine him already, my lady, and it is no use. She said we must just wait for the malady to pass and until then Zeran, cannot go a few paces from his bed –or his _bucket_.' The director glanced back pointedly to check Samuel was not at the bar as he added, 'We think it is food poisoning. Zeran was the only one who had the mussels yesterday -he has become quite obsessed with his weight of late.'

Fritha rolled her eyes, looking furious all over again.

'Oh, _for the love of_ -wait a moment,' she cried, interrupting her own tirade to whirl on the tiefling next to her, '_you_ can do it! Haer'Dalis, tell him you'll do it!'

But the bard took a step back, looking regretful.

'Ah, I would like nothing more than to oblige you, my raven, but I never knew the play so well to begin with and there is the small matter of the re-write performed in my absence. Very good, I hear, but you see this sparrow's problem.'

Fritha snorted her frustrations, whirling back to the director. 'Fine then, you'll do it, Higgold! Yes, that seems fair since this is _your_ fault after all.'

The director looked stricken, his face ashen as he stuttered, 'Me? B-But I cannot, my lady, I n-never could. I was with a troupe in Keczulla for years before I came here and never once did I manage to make it before an audience –it's my nerves, my lady, I always got such terrible stage fright as to render me dumb.'

Fritha looked utterly unmoved. 'Well, you have exactly twelve hours to get over it, Higgold, because I am _not_ getting on that stage.'

'_Please_, my lady,' Higgold cried, looking almost close to tears, 'you've attended the rehearsals, you re-wrote half the script, you know the cues and scenes as well as anyone else we could find at such short notice. Please, not only my standing, but our troupe and this entire theatre's rests upon your shoulders. If we cancel the opening night we may never recover, either our reputation or the money that went on the production. This is our _livelihood_, we-'

Fritha's groan cut him off.

'All right, Higgold. All right, I'll do it. Go and gather the troupe on the stage, I'll come down and tell them I'm taking over the lead.'

Higgold really was crying now, eyes bright with tears of relief as he wrung her hand. 'Oh thank you, my lady, I am sure your performance will be more than adequate. I will help you practise your lines myself, I-'

But whatever else he would do was lost as he had turned to hurry back downstairs. It hardly mattered; Fritha was not listening anyway, her face buried in her hands as she groaned.

'Oh, _Gods_…'

xxx

Haer'Dalis leaned back in the chair, the wooden slats pressing uncomfortably into his shoulder blades. He had _left_ plenty of times; sometimes planned, sometimes on a whim and a few times fleeing hastily across the planes. But he had never actually come _back_ before. He glanced up to the two men sat opposite, one talking, the other just watching him coolly. Returns: they were certainly an acquired taste.

Still, he could not complain. He had known it would be like this, had always known, which was why this was the first instance he had actually bothered to return. Haer'Dalis sighed deeply. How much easier to heed the lessons learnt, write it all off and start anew, and that more than anything was why he had not. He took the harder path now and let the world fall to ruin as it may.

He had thought once that any who could name themselves as his _friends_ would be more understanding when his capricious nature turned on a coin and compelled him to a change of scenery. But he had learnt long ago that such was usually only the case if said friends were fickle sorts as well who likely didn't much care if you left anyway and for those who were your friends, _truly_ your friends, it just meant they were more hurt when you did. And he had been surprised at how sharply it had stung _him_ as he had stood there, those whom he had once laughed and spoken with all just staring coldly back at him, their mumbled words of welcome as false as Higgold's tears.

Truth be told, he had missed them, all of them. He had missed being part of their group, tormenting Anomen and the two druids, watching Minsc chattering madly to that rodent, laughing with Fritha, and the quieter moments with Aerie. He had missed all of it. It was strange how selective a thing memory was. How he could only now seem to recall all the pleasant times; the arguments, and he had to admit there had been a few, all seeming to fade to leave only the smiles and the shared glances.

Even the bitterness of his leaving seemed like a dream. Their argument, his walk about the night-swathed city, feet carrying on some unconscious path until he had looked up and there it was: the harbour, a few ships docked and bobbing on the rising tide and the sea stretching endlessly off to the horizon, dark as the void. Just the place to lose oneself. It had been the third ship he had asked that had a place for him, and he had returned to the inn, given a brief farewell to Aerie and he had already been sailing north come the pale cold dawn.

The Gate had lived up to Fritha's descriptions of the place in that it was large and bland and much like any other city, and he soon found himself regular work playing in a few taverns across the sprawling grey metropolis. He had made friends too, people in other troupes and a few of the servers, but it had not been the same and it was still that golden hair and gentle smile that had haunted him as he'd lain awake at night listening to the bells mark the hours across the city. He had told himself he would start thinking about getting back to Sigil soon, that he just wanted to see more of the Prime first, though he'd known it was not the truth. And it was when he was presented with an offer to join a troupe travelling further north to Neverwinter that he finally made his decision. He was going to try again; he was going back.

Haer'Dalis let his focus rest again on the two men before him. Fritha had left only a moment after Higgold had, Aerie making her excuses and disappearing after her. The others had stayed longer -well, long enough to let the atmosphere _really_ become gelid, before Anomen and the two druids disappeared to make an examination of Zeran and see if they couldn't bring about a miraculous recovery. Minsc and the newcomer, Valygar, remained behind though, to take a table and enlighten him as to the events of the past fortnight. It made for a rather grim account, though Minsc told the tale with a gravitas that would have been worthy of any northern skald.

'But the Harpers tricked good Jaheira, luring her into bringing Fritha before them to accuse her of, ah,' a glance to Valygar and Haer'Dalis got the impression he was getting the abridged version of this story, '_false crimes_. But good Jaheira saw their evil and sided against them. And so the betrayer Galvarey met his end. We left this city the next day in our search for the murderer, Valygar, but our passage was to be greatly troubled. The Harpers placed a dragon's hoard upon young Fritha and Jaheira and many sought their deaths on our journey to Umar. And there, another disappointment: the murderer, Valygar was found innocent man. We had been used! Great was my anger, but Boo was melancholy for young Fritha's hopes of the captive Imoen's release were found false. But we went on; taking the good Valygar into our company, we returned to this city and defeated his ancestor, Lavok, a mage of great evil whose secrets the Cowled ones coveted. But then-'

'Bravo, Minsc,' Haer'Dalis interrupted as politely as he could, unable to bear anymore tales of their struggles and setbacks, 'You have done much since I quit your company.'

'We have _survived_ much since you departed,' Minsc corrected with a deep frown, 'many struggles there have been and not all without our group. Little Aerie and young Fritha came to much grief in your leaving, blaming each other with angry words. It was not good to see such friends fight so,' the ranger sent him a very stern look, 'and I would not see it again.'

Haer'Dalis held his gaze. 'I did not return to cause trouble, Minsc, on that you have my word. I merely desired to wish the raven well in her theatrical endeavour.'

Minsc nodded once and gravely, a smile suddenly lighting his face as the tiefling felt a presence behind his chair.

'Little Aerie, you are returned -you were lending aid to our sick actor, yes?'

'Well, I was certainly trying to sooth one of them,' she sighed, Haer'Dalis hearing her quip to ask, 'Ah, and how does the Lady Patron?'

Aerie shrugged, sinking into an empty chair.

'Wishing she had never taken up that title, I suspect. You know Fritha. She spent the first few moments raging, the next few bemoaning her fate and then promptly dismissed Higgold and I to get ready; I left her in her office learning her lines. Perhaps you could help her practise, Haer'Dalis, I'm sure she would appreciate it.'

Haer'Dalis nodded, trying to keep his manner even in the rising swell of emotions within him. 'Indeed, I will go now. Will you walk with me?'

He watched the girl hesitate, but in the end she rose too, the pair making a slow pace to the stairs. Aerie seemed somehow older; the troubles Minsc had spoken of had taken their toll on them all, though she smiled all the same when she glanced up to find him watching her, the elf laying a graceful hand upon the banisters as they began their descent. Haer'Dalis swallowed, the moment was approaching, the moment where the course of his life would be irrevocably decided and it all came down to her.

'You are aware, Aerie,' he began quietly, the girl pausing on the steps to turn and gaze up at him, 'that the opening night here was not the only reason I returned. I had hoped to learn whether this time apart has not changed your feelings towards us. I plan to leave for Sigil within the next few days… I would like you to come with me.'

She sighed and smiled gently, looking sad and old in a way that reminded him of Fritha.

'Oh, Haer'Dalis, you know I cannot leave the others, not when they may still need me.'

Haer'Dalis had been expecting this though, his passions rising with his desperation as he screwed up his courage and dared to play his final card.

'Then but say the word and I will bear all their scorn and return to this company –I want no promise from you, just a sign that perhaps…'

But Aerie was shaking her head.

'I can't. I'm sorry. The decision whether you stay or go should be your own –you must just do what you believe is best for yourself…. But how have you been?' she added brightly, turning to continue her decent, 'You look well.'

And so that was it. All the love and passion and tenderness they had once shared faded away to leave only awkward glances and the bland conversation of strangers, and Haer'Dalis had a heartrending glimpse of his long-revered oblivion.

xxx

Anomen walked up the wooden steps and onto the stage where hands were already busy setting up the backdrops and aligning the lights. The knight ignored them though to slip into the darkness of the wings, heading for the backstage and hurriedly stepping back as another pushed past the curtain before him.

'Ah, and the knight arrives,' Haer'Dalis greeted genially, 'you go to _rescue_ our nascent star?'

'Don't call her that,' Anomen snapped sullenly, in no mood to speak with the tiefling. Haer'Dalis drew back, frowning.

'I meant no offence, my hound.'

'And yet you cause it with your mere leave our group without even a _word_ of farewell and now you just stroll back as though nothing has happened.'

Haer'Dalis sent him a sneering smile. 'Why, I never realised you _cared_.'

Anomen felt his temper surge, resisting the urge to grasp the man about the collar and shake him.

'Do not _jest_ with me! Have you any idea what has occurred since you left? She _needed_ you here and you deserted her. You knew it then and you know it now.'

Haer'Dalis flushed, seeming to need no clarification as to whom he was referring, his eyes narrowed to poisonous slits.

'I would have thought _you_ happy to fill the breach, knightling, or did you find you could not?' he spat, drawing a sharp breath as though this was but the first taste of his vitriol when he slowly exhaled, shaking his head ruefully. 'Ah, I am sorry, Anomen, that was unkind of me; I always did use my spite as a shield. And you are correct, I abandoned her and I am sorry for it. I am… glad though, that she had someone here who cared enough to stay. Aerie mentioned you finally admitted your regard for our dear raven; how are you and she?'

Anomen swallowed, not expecting the contrition or the question and unprepared for both.

'I tried, I- she does not regard me in that way.'

Haer'Dalis smiled sadly and clapped him soundly on the arm. 'My commiserations. We are comrades in this, knight, for I spoke to Aerie earlier; she will not leave your path for mine and that means we are truly ended as well.'

'I am sorry,' said Anomen eventually and he meant it too; no one deserved to feel like this.

Haer'Dalis grinned wryly. 'Ah,_ take courage, lover! Could you endure such grief at any hand but hers?_ Go,' he continued, slapping his arm again, 'Go and speak with Fritha -perhaps you can cheer her where I failed. I fear she was too occupied with her lines to speak much with me.' A sardonic twist of his mouth and the bard was gone.

The dressing room was buzzing with people, all practising scenes and fighting over make-up, but none of them were the one he sought and he continued on, the stillness of her office seeming sterile when compared to the energy that had permeated the rest of the theatre. And there she was, the script open on the dresser before her though she was not reading, the girl sat in one of the two worn armchairs, her head pillowed upon the sheaf of papers as though she hoped to absorb the contents straight into her memory.

'Fritha?'

She took a deep breath and slowly raised her head to look in the mirror before her, her reflection sending him a weary smile.

'Hello Anomen.'

'My lady.'

The girl sighed deeply, straightening to lean back in her chair and gesture to the one opposite her as she flicked the script closed with an apathetic sweep of her fingers. Anomen sank gingerly into the seat, wishing he had better news to offer her.

'I am afraid it was as Higgold said, Zeran must just wait for the malady to pass.' The girl made no reply, just nodded as though she had expected as much and Anomen ventured to ask, 'How goes it?'

'Terrible,' she answered flatly, 'Still at least we'll save on make-up: I already look like I'm a hundred. Oh Anomen, what am I doing?' she cried into her hands, 'I can't act, not like this, not in front of all those people, pretending to be some lovesick _idiot_. And the play is going to fail before it's even run for one tenday and we are going to be a laughing stock and all the actors will be out of work and my theatre will be ruined!' She scrubbed her hands up over her face looking as worn and frayed as the grand chair she was sat in. 'Do you know why I even agreed to put on this play to begin with? So there would still be something raising coin for Imoen's rescue if I died. This place was supposed to spare me worry, not cause it.'

Anomen sighed, hating to think of her dying, hating even more the idea that she had a life that meant she took such precautions for the eventuality. He glanced to the mirror next to them, both of them drained of colour and verve by the wan table lamp.

'I am sorry, Fritha, I wish I could do more. Whenever there is some problem or trouble you always seem to be able to say something that makes those around you feel better, that inspires them to fight on, that their struggles will prevail. I had hoped to come and do the same for you, but I fear it is not a talent I share.'

Fritha glanced to him, suddenly bolt upright in her chair, a fierce look to her face as she struck him soundly on his shoulders with both hands.

'Anomen, that's it!'

And suddenly she was on her feet, marching past him to the door and throwing it wide to roar, 'Davith!'

A moment later and the lad was before them, whey-faced and nervous, one hand trying to surreptitiously smooth down his coffee-coloured hair as though he expected a scolding. Fritha smiled as she gestured for him to enter.

'Please give us a moment, Anomen.'

'You- you need me for something, my lady?' Davith faltered as she closed the door behind him.

'_Fritha_, if you will or _patron_, if you must,' she corrected, offering him the chair Anomen had not long vacated as she sank back into her own, 'But not _my lady_ –Hell, Davith, is getting what you want. And yes, I need you; Higgold's all tied up and I need someone to help me practise my lines.'

'Oh –oh, of course, my la- my _patron_.'

'Ah, nice save, and who says you've a poor memory.'

Davith flushed, avoiding her eye as he moved to take up her script, the boy starting as a small white hand was slammed down upon it. Fritha smiled sweetly. 'Let's try a little from memory, shall we? Act one, scene three: _Oh, poor Karenina, take your pleading-'_

'Er, _yearning_, my patron,' Davith interrupted reluctantly. Fritha gave an airy laugh.

'Oh yes, of course, _take your yearning eyes from me and let my trembling heart be still. I-'_

'Ah, it's _stilled_.'

'What? Is it? Oh, _and let my trembling heart be stilled. I had no need of it before this day; why torture me with reflections on a damned love?'_

She watched the orb in his pale throat bob, the lad's voice wavering. 'Er_, I had no need of it ere this hour; why torment me with reflections of a doomed love?'_

Davith glanced to her, perhaps expecting to find her cross or frustrated, though Fritha could tell her smile was unnerving him more than any tantrum ever could; he _had_ spent the last couple of months with Iltheia after all. The lad swallowed again to tremor hoarsely, 'You- you're doing well, my-'

'You learnt this part, didn't you, Davith?' she cut in, her smile wide and voice light, 'The part of Velden. You learnt the _whole_ thing…'

'Well- well, yes, because Higgold told me too, but then he said-'

'So we _do_ have an understudy,' Fritha trilled delightedly. Davith look suddenly horrified.

'But-but you've re-written it since then!'

Fritha waved this minor detail away with an unconcerned hand.

'Oh, they were just aesthetic changes: a line here, a couplet there. Lines!' She snorted contemptuously. 'Anyone can learn them -as I will later prove. But, you, Davith, you learnt the _part_ of Velden, didn't you? You read his lines, you imagined his life, you pretended you were wearing his skin.'

Davith was shaking his head, wretched in his disbelief.

'_Please_, my lady, I am hopeless, everyone says so.'

'They are wrong,' she countered firmly. 'You will be Velden and I'll take the part of the apprentice in your place -no offence, but you never had the most lines.'

The lad gave a miserable moan low in his throat.

'Davith,' Fritha sighed gently, feeling a stab of pity for him, 'look at it this way, you cannot be any worse than I will be. You can forget lines, you can miss cues, even you can trip and knock over a backdrop if you like, I really don't mind. I just want you to go out there and try, because I know even at your worst you will still be better than I ever could be and we both owe it to the people who come to see this play tonight and the rest of the troupe and, gods help me, even Higgold. So we're going to do this, you and I together.' She reached up to firmly take his shoulders, 'Now, you are Velden, the ache of the days stretching endlessly before you, unable to let another close for fear of seeing them suffer a long and painful fate. Yes?'

The lad looked up to finally meet her gaze, the _painful fate_ that was stretching off before him reflected in his light hazel eyes, though something else was slowly creeping in as well. He drew a deep determined breath and nodded once.

xxx

Jaheira knocked lightly on the wood of the door, not waiting for an answer as she pushed it open on the small plain room, the gloom of the twilight beyond the window held at bay by the light of a few lamps. The bed and chair had been abandoned in favour of the hearth rug, Cernd sat, a pen of legs about his son as he played with Ahsdale, the man making a white felt rabbit dance along his knee much to the boy's delight and Jaheira considered he had never looked more like a father. She smiled.

'Here you both are; Valygar mentioned you had retreated upstairs.'

Cernd glanced up to her, his worn face bearing the invigorated glow of spring as he smiled.

'Yes, Ahsdale was getting fretful as downstairs became more crowded –and I was not feeling much better, so Samuel kindly let us take one of his empty rooms. Is everyone still gathered in the tavern?'

Jaheira nodded, crossing to kneel next to the pair. 'Yes, though not for much longer I should imagine; the play is to begin soon. Higgold has a bench arranged for us at the back of the auditorium. He seems to think we are all desperate to watch our leader _take the stage_.'

'I am surprised,' the man confessed with a slight frown, absently ruffling Ahsdale's hair as the boy pulled at his bootlaces. 'I would have thought Fritha would have asked us not to attend, lest it make her nervous.'

'I think it is the other hundred or so patrons she is truly worried about,' quipped Jaheira dryly. Cernd smiled though he still looked concerned as he confessed, 'I saw her briefly up in the tavern earlier, though we barely had time to exchange a greeting before she was being called back downstairs. She just gave me this for Ahsdale,' the druid continued, letting the boy take the toy rabbit from him, 'and then she was gone. How is she now?'

Jaheira smiled as Ahsdale thrust his prize at her with the cry of 'Rabbit!'

'Tired and fiercely hopeful. She and the boy, Davith, are still in her office going through one final run through of their lines. And how are you? You went over to visit the caravan master earlier, did you not?'

Cernd nodded. 'Yes, he seems a fair man -he said his wife is already looking forward to having a child to fuss over on the trip. He plans to set out for Trademeet at dawn tomorrow.'

'And from there you will head to the grove,' Jaheira sighed, almost envious as she recalled the tranquil harmony of the place. 'Will you be safe to make the way through the marshes alone?'

'I will send a message in to the grove asking for an escort –I have friends enough there still that I am sure at least one will oblige me.' He sent her a measured look in the lamplight. 'It is a shame you cannot join us, though I believe the ability to rear young is within us all, I still feel as a new fawn, trying to find its feet.'

Jaheira smiled and soundly clapped his arm. 'You will be fine, Cernd.'

'Yes,' he agreed, still watching her with that even gaze, 'but I believe the raising of a child is a task best suited to a pair. I understand you still have duties here, but they will not keep you forever and I would like you to consider continuing your role as guardian to another ward.'

Cernd let his attention drop back to Ahsdale with a fond smile, Jaheira watching them with undisguised disbelief, his offer so unexpected she could not even begin at answering him, her mind suddenly swimming with opportunities she had almost given up as passed.

'Cernd I- I do not know what to say.'

'I need no answer,' he said mildly, 'I would just have you know that you are welcome if you should wish it.'

Jaheira nodded once and slowly. 'I will consider it.'

Outside, the deep plangent peal of the city bells marked the seventh hour.

'And so the bell tolls,' murmured Cernd gravely. Jaheira passed the rabbit back to Ahsdale with a pointed 'Thank you' and stood stiffly.

'The play is due to begin, are you coming down to watch it?'

Cernd smiled wryly. 'I have borne witness to many of Fritha's performances; I must admit to being intrigued to see how she will fare upon an actual stage. Come along, Ahsdale,' he continued, standing to heave the boy up and settle him on his hip, 'I feel we are about to watch something of a miracle.'

Jaheira laughed, opening the door for the pair and following them out.

xxx

Fritha stood in the wings watching Davith, effulgent under the lime-powder lights as he projected into the audience, even his murmured soliloquy swelling to fill the packed auditorium, the lad's voice seeming impossibly loud in that silent room. This was it. Any moment now, his lines would finish and she would have to walk upon that stage in front of all those people. Her stomach twisted so painfully she thought she was going to be sick.

What was she _thinking_? She couldn't do this!

_But you will…_

Davith had put aside his fears for her and the rest of the troupe, and now she would too.

Silence was ringing in her ears; the boy had stopped speaking.

_Right, let's go. You call, master. You call, master._

The lights were so bright she could not see the audience.

'You call, master?'

**…**

The applause was still ringing in her ears as she finally left the stage after their third curtain-call, the cast exiting by the wings to gather backstage before the dressing rooms, their small group immediately joined by the stagehands, everyone clamouring about one another laughing and radiant, Fritha throwing herself onto Davith's back to violently ruffle his hair, the boy laughing nervously as though he still could not believe what he had managed.

'Amazing!' cried Higgold, bustling in from the auditorium, 'Absolutely amazing! Milil himself couldn't have produced better! And Davith, well…' The impossible happened as the director was rendered speechless.

'Higgold,' came Alhana, the old woman pushing her greying head past the curtain he had just stalked through, 'a Lord Vedis is in the auditorium asking to come backstage.'

The director looked elated. 'Ah, I shall be right there!'

He turned to hurry off, the man nearly barrelled sideways by the elf, Aerie at the head of the small group that had just piled backstage. 'Oh Fritha, that was wonderful!'

Jaheira rolled her eyes. 'And how could you tell? She cried the whole way through.'

Aerie laughed along with the rest of them, even Haer'Dalis managing a smile as he sent Fritha a deferential nod.

'Well done, my raven, you rose to the challenge as ever.'

'Of course! But is Anomen not with you? Ah, name a devil!' Fritha added with a laugh as the man himself pushed aside the curtain, holding it back for the two that followed and Fritha felt her smile widening as she recognised the dark-haired siblings.

'They did not wish to come backstage,' Anomen explained as he reached her, dropping his voice to add, 'there were worries they would be in the way.'

And they _both_ knew from whom those worries would have stemmed, Fritha stepping forward to warmly greet the pair behind him. 'Not at all! Elsenda, I'm so pleased you could come.'

The young girl's tentative smile was all at once full, like the sun emerging from the clouds.

'Fritha, thank you so much for sending us tickets; I did not know you were to be _performing_ in the play as well.'

Fritha snorted. 'Neither did I. Ah, and Diesveld, how are you, sir?'

'Oh, please, less of the 'sir', it makes me feel like my father,' he chuckled affably and already Fritha could see Jenna and Wynn looking over with an appraising eye. A quietly commanding voice cut off any chances for matchmaking though.

'…I would see the patron here as well.'

And the curtain was pulled back once more to reveal a short elderly man, thinning grey hair combed over his bald head, his fine clothes simple in their decoration and cut.

'Of course, my lord, this way please,' fussed Higgold, trying to usher the man forward without seeming too bold. 'Everyone, please gather round. As you will _all_ know,' continued the director, the emphasis he put on the word indicating that those that didn't had better make a convincing attempt at pretending they did, 'this is Lord Vedis, the informal leader, if you will, of a very influential group of lords who have made it their noble goal to keep Athkatla in her place amongst those cities at the pinnacle of cultural and artistic advancement and expression along the Sword Coast and he wishes, amongst other things, to share with you all his opinions of tonight's performance.'

Fritha felt those around her shifting nervously and her own heart begin to quicken. Higgold stepped back with a deferential bob, Vedis nodding once as he took the floor, his small eyes sharp and keen.

'Well, I thought it rather good for opening night. These things usually tend to be a touch fraught, especially when the playhouse and troupe are debuting as well. The sets were well presented and the reworking of the script definitely gave it a lift. And overall, the performances were good -well, except for that young man playing Velden. A truly moving performance; I expect we shall see good things from him in future.'

Davith was scarlet, almost disappearing under another uprising of people trying to ruffle his hair and pat his back. Higgold smiled ingratiatingly, his eyes calculating above the gesture as he turned to her.

'And I believe my Lord Vedis wish to speak with you regarding some, ah, investment opportunities, my patron.'

_Oh, subtly done, Higgold._ Fritha smiled evenly.

'Indeed, my lord, please allow Higgold to escort you to my office and I will join you forthwith. Mayen, please fetch them some wine while they wait.'

Higgold nodded, already ushering his illustrious companion away, Fritha turning back to those left with a grin

'Right, you lot. Worst is over with; all your hard work has paid off so now it is time to get upstairs and enjoy it -and tell Samuel the theatre will foot the bill.'

The cheer that went up was worth all the good reviews in Athkatla, the troupe all laughing and calling to each other as they headed for the dressing room to change clothes and remove make up. Fritha sent a tired smile to the few of her own friends still left.

'Well, no peace unto the wicked. You go and enjoy yourselves, I'll be up when we're done here.'

A round of nods, the small group just stood before her in a rather solemn silence, Jaheira giving the feeling a voice as she stepped forward to embrace the girl firmly.

'Well _done_, Fritha.'

Fritha just gave a faint laugh and turned to head back to her office.

xxx

Fritha glanced about her, making one last check that everything was in order, her office dim in the light of the single lamp until she put out that as well and darkness swallowed the room. The meeting had taken a while, especially since nothing had been decided, Lord Vedis merely making enquiries into whether to theatre would be available for other touring troupes that were perhaps visiting the city, though hardly any toured over the winter months and they would not be able to start anything until their own run of the Sorcerer's Bane was completed. But it had seemed to take forever for the two men to get to the point, chattering on about other troupes they had seen and what they thought and Fritha could not be bothered to change back into her usual clothes once she had finally got rid of the pair, the girl still wearing the tatty dark green robes of Velden's apprentice, her clothes and sword just stuffed haphazardly into her bag.

Fritha paused a moment in the darkness, listening to the faint rumble of the tavern upstairs, still packed with patrons who had come to the play and Fritha imagined Samuel would be kept busy until the early hours. She smiled faintly to herself and turned to leave, the light from the auditorium enough for her to see by as she moved from the backstage and there he was, stood on the stage looking out over the silent hall, a long leather case already slung over his shoulder. He whirled back at the sound of her footsteps.

'You came then,' said Fritha, trying and failing to keep the injured tone from her voice.

Haer'Dalis smiled, looking sad and much older than she had remembered him being.

'I would not have missed this for all the planes.' He sighed deeply as she failed to return his smile, shaking his head. 'Fritha, my raven, I am sorry I left before without saying anything. Aerie was driving me to distraction with her indecision. I gave her everything in the end and she still was not satisfied. She did not know what she wanted and I was too upset to stay and find out.'

Fritha stared at him, willing it not to hurt. He could have stayed for _her_ sake, but it would have been hard for him and Fritha wouldn't have wanted to put him through that.

'But she has made her decision now; do you regret leaving?'

Haer'Dalis nodded and turned away from her, his eyes drifting over the backdrops, the colours bright and unreal this close.

'Aye, but not for that. A decision made means everyone can move on. But I shall miss _you_, my raven…' he glanced back to her, smiling slightly, 'I shall always regret that we were not in love.'

Fritha nodded. She knew exactly what he meant; they were perfect for each other in every other respect.

'Where will you go now?' she asked quietly.

'Back to Sigil, and then,' Haer'Dalis shrugged, 'wherever the Fates take me.'

Fritha smiled, his answer no more than what she had expected, the girl pushing her hand into the bag at her hip to close about the uneven surface of the planar gem, brought to the top in anticipation of this very meeting.

'Haer'Dalis, I've something-'

'My raven, I have some-'

They laughed lightly, each interrupting the other, Haer'Dalis beckoning for her to continue.

'Here,' she smiled as she made to hand him the stone, 'that should ease your travels. I doubt I shall ever put it to any real use -I can't summon anything for a start.'

But the tiefling took a step back, holding up his hands in refusal. 'No, no, keep it, my raven, I like the idea we could meet again one day on some far-flung plane.'

They shared a smiled, a silence falling between them before Haer'Dalis clapped his hands together, all at once bright again.

'And now for mine,' he grinned, slipping the long case from his shoulder and laying it upon the stay to withdraw a fine long-necked lute, the dim light catching on the inlay of pearl and rosewood along the frets as he handed it to her. 'You have been silent too long, my raven.'

Fritha looked up at him, this man whom she had thought she would never see again, the parting no easier this time for her chance to make her farewell and she could feel the lump rising in her throat, Haer'Dalis heartbroken at her distress.

'Oh, my dear raven,' he sighed, Fritha swallowing her tears to throw her arms about his neck, the lute still in hand as she embraced him fiercely and he returned it, pressing his lips to her temple as she buried her face in his neck. At last, they parted, laying their foreheads together, her free hand still clutching his sleeve. It could not be said later who kissed whom, it was a mutual thing, both leaning forward to meet briefly at the lips before parting with a smile as good friends should.

'Come, my raven,' he announced, 'let us get back to those _mad_ actors.'

Fritha laughed wetly, quickly dabbing her eyes before taking the arm he proffered and allowing him to lead her from the stage.

Samuel had prepared them a room upstairs where they could celebrate together without being accosted by the theatregoers that filled the tavern proper, the room crammed with people of their own group and the troupe both, all sat around a large table as they laughed and drank. Elsenda and Diesveld had joined them for the first hour before taking their leave, the young woman quite transformed as she had sat talking blithely with the actresses, her brother elated by the change and taking the opportunity to tell Anomen the latest news from the Cloudpeaks. All was apparently going well and there were hopes the legions would be returned to the city by the Midwinter.

It was late. The temple bells had struck midnight a while ago; the last time they would be sounded now before they would hail the dawn again tomorrow morning –or indeed _that_ morning, Anomen corrected himself. Not that the hour had depleted their numbers particularly, Meck still sat at the table wide awake as he drank the sweet cherry cordial Samuel had sent up especially for him and even the ailing Zeran and managed to show his face earlier on in the evening. He had been pale and drawn, but had raised a laugh from them all the same, claiming that it all could have been much worse: news that _Davith_ of all people had performed his part so admirably had nearly killed him in his weakened state. The lad had flushed, grinning widely as he teased the older man about taking as much time as he needed to recover, Zeran assuring the boy that his moment in the spotlight had been for 'one night only', the man wishing them all a sincere congratulations before he took himself back to bed with hopes of a full recovery by the next evening.

In fact, Cernd was the only other who had left early, he and Jaheira taking the nodding Ahsdale back to the Coronet, though the woman returned an hour later to rejoin the celebrations. She was sat opposite Anomen now, Fritha on one side while Aerie was on the other, the three laughing as Fritha did a humorous imitation of her earlier histrionics when Meck had greeted her in the hallway that morning. Anomen smiled; she looked the happiest she had been in a long while, surrounded by those bright and lively people, all laughing and chattering, every other word a quip, and she was not the only one who looked pleased. Higgold's grin was the widest in that sea of smiles and Anomen wondered if the wine he had been imbibing liberally since they arrived hadn't something to do with it, the man nearly sloshing half a cup over Marcus next to him as he cried theatrically, 'Oh, my patron, my troupe, _what_ an opening night! I warrant we will have a full house for the entire season. This theatre will be Athkatla's rising star -have you any preference for the next play, my lady?'

'Listen to him,' cried Jenna, 'we've a whole season of this one to complete yet!'

Fritha laughed along with the others. 'I leave the decision of the next play entirely up to you, Higgold -as long as it's more cheerful that this one,' she added quickly.

'Oh, I've the very thing, lady patron, the very thing,' cried Higgold excitedly. 'A wonderful tale of love and loss set in furthest Wa.'

'Loss, eh? No one _dies_, do they?' Fritha questioned, eyeing him suspiciously over the rim of her cup.

'No, m'lady, though quite a few come close,' Meck offered freely.

Fritha raised her glass and her voice over the surrounding laughter. 'Perfect, you've my whole-hearted support!'

Anomen smiled as Wynn began to gesture enthusiastically behind the girl's chair, Higgold clearing his throat to continue nonchalantly, 'And will our Lady Patron be joining us in this fresh endeavour? I believe there are some very fine singing roles…'

Fritha swallowed a mouthful of wine to answer genially, 'Most definitely not!'

'How cruel you are!' Higgold whined petulantly, 'To avail me with a new talent only to withdraw it so smartly.'

'You've quite enough talent all about you,' Fritha countered, smiling as she leaned back in her chair to gesture expansively to the table and wagging a finger at him in warning, 'You neglect them, Higgold; I see a mutinous fire in Iltheia's eyes already.'

Higgold hurriedly turned to fuss over the elf at his side, Iltheia giggling lightly even as she batted him away.

'So you've no plans of make a career of this then, my raven?' reiterated Haer'Dalis, once again hailing a chorus of cajoles and compliments. Fritha shook her head, holding her hands up almost as though to protect herself.

'No, no, I think I'd best stick to killing dragons and other less _terrifying _pursuits.'

'And on the subject of those pursuits,' cut in Jaheira neatly, 'we really should be getting back to the inn.'

The chorus of groans from the troupe was almost deafening.

'But we've so much still to celebrate!'

'Come now, my patron, just another round.'

'No, no,' Fritha agreed firmly, making to rise, 'Jaheira is right; we should be getting back. Higgold, a word please.'

xxx

Fritha walked down the stairs, her bag in her hand, its usual position slung at her back now taken by her new lute. Something that had got quite a bit of attention when she had first arrived with it, the questions of who it was from eventually giving way to requests to play, though she had refused to discuss either and the conversation had soon moved on to more interesting topics. Their briefing over, Higgold was already back with the troupe, the group continuing their celebrations and Fritha had left them with the warning that she would _not_ be returning as understudy tomorrow because someone had a hangover.

The tavern was quieter now although not quite empty, her own group scattered across the tables: Anomen, Valygar and Minsc at one talking to the cheerfully clearing up Samuel, while Jaheira and Aerie were sat at another, Haer'Dalis stood by the elf's chair. Fritha knew he had lodgings in an inn down by the harbour, the man leaving with the morning tide on a boat bound for Waterdeep and a plane-travelling mage he knew of old who had apparently settled in the city. Fritha watched as the tiefling leaned in for a quiet goodbye, Aerie smiling brightly and turning to proffering him a cheek to kiss before he straightened once more to notice Fritha on the stairs, Haer'Dalis raising a hand to her though he did not approach; they had made their farewells earlier. And with that, he turned and left the tavern.

Fritha shook her head, trudging loosely down the last few stairs to wander over to their table, Aerie keeping her attention firmly on the faded embroidery at her cuffs.

'So you're just going to let him leave then.'

The elf sighed, finally glancing up to her with a determined look. 'I know what you're going to say, but I just can't-'

'What happened to you wishing you had not driven him away?' Fritha interrupted sharply.

'I know,' Aerie cried, frustrated, as though she did not want to be reminded of it, 'but I've done so much, I've come so far since he left. I finally feel as though I am beginning to live my life again rather than drifting through it. I just couldn't bear to dredge all that up again, the arguing and the uncertainty.' She sighed again, lowering her eyes resignedly. 'The past is over; we just have to move on with our lives.'

Fritha just resisted giving her a sound clout about the back of the head. 'Gods, you sound just like him! Except now he isn't like that anymore.'

'How do you-?'

'Because he came back, Aerie! I can't believe you are just letting him go after everything. You been given a chance to put everything right, but you're too afraid to take it. What happened to you facing up to life and becoming your own person?'

'I am, I-'

'No, you're not. You _were_, and you've come far. But now you're just using your beliefs as an excuse, another thing to hide behind because you're too much of a coward to risk getting hurt for the thing you really want.'

'I'm not,' Aerie cried, flushed and flustered, 'I just-'

'Rubbish!' Fritha snapped, 'Do you love him?'

'It is not so simple as that-'

'No, Aerie, it _is_ that simple.'

'But-'

'Aerie, do you love him?'

The elf beneath her faltered, her whole body seeming to tremble as she suddenly burst out, 'Yes, oh Gods, yes! I love him, I love him!'

'Well, don't just sit there, you twit!' Fritha shouted, throwing an arm at the door, 'Go and tell him!'

And Aerie was suddenly on her feet, the whole room looking up as she flung the tavern door wide and fled out into the night.

**...**

The bridge was empty, the air sharp and cold, stinging her throat as she tore along the silent street, her skirts held up in both hands as she closed upon the lone figure slowly making his way towards the docks.

'Haer'Dalis!' she cried breathlessly, the man turning in time to see her skid to a halt before him, 'Haer'Dalis, I…'

'Aerie?'

'Just let me speak,' she interrupted sharply, frightened if she did not get the words out then, she never would. 'I've been thinking about you and I –well, mostly _you_ since you left and how you are a Doomguard and how you told me once that everything is ending, the whole multiverse is ending to be reborn, only better than before and I came to thinking- I- I thought perhaps it _is_, but in smaller ways. Perhaps things are ending all the time and are being reborn better and- and what I am trying to say is, I know _we_ ended and so perhaps, perhaps we shouldn't give up just yet…'

Haer'Dalis was just staring at her, his dark eyes black in the streetlamps and Aerie felt so tense she worried she would burst.

'Haer'Dalis, say something, _please!_'

'Aerie, this has never happened before, but I simply do not know what to say.'

'_Just kiss her, you idiot!_' Fritha's voice bawled from the doorway behind them. Haer'Dalis grinned. And then she was in his arms and his mouth was on hers and Aerie could barely kiss him for smiling, the cheers and laughter from the tavern behind them echoing along the street.

Fritha punched the air with a triumphant '_Yes!_', the girl shrieking as Minsc lifted her up to place her on his broad shoulders. 'Onward!' she roared, throwing an arm out before them, 'To the Coronet!'

And the pair set off, Fritha still sat upon the ranger's shoulders as they left the others to follow them, their voices raised in glorious paean.

'_See, the conquering hero comes! Sound the trumpets, beat the drums.'_

Fritha was well known for her singing, but Anomen was rather surprised to findMinsc had quite a fine voice as well. Behind him, Aerie and Haer'Dalis were laughing merrily, an arm about each other as they walked, though it seemed not _all_ were appreciating the performance.

'Will you two be quiet!' the druid shouted after them, 'You'll have woken half the city before the third stanza!'

Fritha turned back to them with a joyous laugh. 'Come on, Jaheira, join in!'

The woman rolled her eyes, though they barely remained in their sockets as the man walking next to her drew in a breath, Valygar's smooth baritone joining their song.

'_Sports prepare, the laurel bring,_ _songs of triumph to _her_ sing.'_

Fritha looked overjoyed, her approval coming out in a confusion of Rashemi and Chondathan in her delight. '_Ket! Ket! _ Wonderful, Valygar! _Sports prepare, the laurel bring, songs of triumph to him sing!'_

Their song lasted for the whole bridge and halfway through the slums, a stagger of drunks outside the Red Griffin joining them for an enthusiastic, albeit cacophonous finale before the silence of the hour returned once more. Their company were more closely grouped now Jaheira did not seem to feel she needed to pretend she did not know half of them, Fritha and Minsc still leading the way, though Anomen had caught up to them. He looked up to the Rashemi's charge, Fritha still wearing the dark green robes of her character, her hair loose, every curl bouncing with the ambling pace of the ranger. She glanced down at him and beamed and Anomen felt his stomach lurch. It was no good; even like this, half-drunk and being carried around the streets of Athkatla singing like an idiot, she was still utterly enchanting.

'Ah Minsc,' Fritha sighed, returning her gaze to their course, 'it must be great being tall.'

'So it is, young Fritha, though Boo tells me there are advantages to being small too.'

Fritha shrugged. 'Well, he's wiser than I am. I'd love to be this tall. Just imagine, ten feet tall with hellfire _dancing_ in my eyes!'

Minsc's bark of laughter echoed along the street.

'Boo says he thinks you would find it harder to convince others that you are not the unholy vessel of Bhaal's evil.'

'Yes, but I bet they would be less inclined to have a problem with it.'

They both laughed at that, Anomen joining them in a smile though he could not tempt any more; the idea of her being hunted was too laden with grief to be amusing. Even their laughter had faded by now and Anomen watched her, Fritha just sat calmly, staring into the middle distance while her hand played absently with the lock of hair that hung a good few inches shorter than the rest.

'My lady?'

'_Fritha…_' she reminded warningly, giving him a stern look that made Anomen want to laugh, 'If I were ten feet tall you'd remember my name.'

He wanted to say that he would never forget her name. That she was more precious to him than knighthood and glory and- and _air_, and every other thing he seemed to feel he needed before she had come along; an embodiment of every rare and wonderful thing in the world. But Minsc was there and Fritha had never really taken to that sort of thing anyway. Anomen sighed to himself and smiled.

'You are as likely right.'

Fritha laughed delightedly and ruffled his hair in a surprisingly affectionate gesture, ducking just in time to miss the lintel as Minsc at last reached the Copper Coronet. Even the Coronet was quiet at that time of the night, only a handful of patrons scattered across the room. Minsc had paused by an empty table just inside the door for Fritha to climb down onto and she was now only a head higher than him.

'Ah, like all good things, so fleeting,' she sighed, taking the ranger's hand and jumping down to the floor.

'Oh, have you finally decided to cease your folly?' came Jaheira's disapproving tones behind them, 'I had hoped the lintel would knock some sense into you.'

'Take care in your wishes, Jaheira,' warned Valygar as he entered as well, 'it could just make her worse.'

'Well said, that man!' Fritha trilled brightly.

'I see they are as appreciative of your verve as ever, my raven,' Haer'Dalis laughed, Aerie shrieking as she was swept up into his arms, 'Allow me, sweet Aerie.'

The elf was still giggling and telling him to put her down as he carried her over to the stairs, Fritha laughing merrily as she watched the pair.

'I bet he's fit to drop by the time he's carried her up to the second floor –be careful not to step on him where he's collapsed in the corridor,' she called after Minsc, the man laughing as he set off up the stairs after them, Valygar bidding them all a sober 'goodnight' before following him.

Jaheira exhaled deeply, looking exhausted herself and throwing an arm about the girl's shoulders as she leaned upon her. 'I am getting too old for all this.'

'Nonsense!' cried Fritha, 'What, we've only travelled to the Nine Hells, killed a centuries old necromancer, crushed a slums-wide slaving ring, re-united Cernd with his child and saved the opening night of my theatre in the last tenday. Piece of cake! -Oh, I wish I hadn't said that, I really fancy cake now.'

The woman laughed and gently cuffed the back of her head. 'Fritha! Come on, let us to bed; we will have to be up to see Cernd off in but a few hours.'

And their final three at last left the doorway, crossing the tavern for the stairs though they had not gone halfway before a smooth commanding voice halted them.

'A good evening to you, ladies -and gentleman.'

Anomen turned as they did to see a tall dark-haired gentleman stepping down from his stool at the bar and the knight was suddenly struck by how he had not managed to notice him before. Considering he would have still looked grand in the _Mithrest_, he could not have been more incongruous, his fur-lined cloak thrown back from his shoulders to reveal a richly embroidered doublet, heavy woollen trousers tucked loosely into his boots, though he smiled graciously as closed the gap between them. 'I beg your pardon, but did I hear correctly? Are you the young Lady Fritha?'

'That is so, my lord,' Fritha answered politely, seemingly unconcerned that she was still wearing the threadbare green robes from the theatre and Anomen could not help but smile at Jaheira's frown when, as naturally as any lady in her finery, Fritha scooped them up and bobbed a curtsy. 'How might I assist you?'

The man himself smiled slightly too and returned the obeisance with sincerity. 'Then we are well met. My name is Jierdan; I am lord to lands east of here. I have heard of your group's experiences in matters of a martial nature and I have need to avail myself of them –perhaps I might discuss it with you ladies over tea?'

Fritha nodded, Jaheira already moving to take a table with the man as the girl glanced back to the knight with a smile.

'It's late as it is, Anomen, you may as well go up to bed. Jaheira and I can attend to this.'

He nodded, continuing to the stairs but he did not ascend as the others had, instead taking a seat upon them to watch unnoticed as Fritha served the tea Hendak had just sent over, her movements delicate and precise, the girl holding her sleeves out of the way as she poured the cups and handed them out and the conference began. They spoke for a few moments, the man explaining things, Jaheira supplying information where needed and Fritha sat, taking it all in. Finally, she spoke and, with a glance to Jaheira, a handshake closed the deal and Lord Jierdan left the inn, obviously returning to better lodgings.

The door was barely closed when the shriek split the air, Fritha flinging her arms about the woman's neck no less than beaming and, though Jaheira looked more serious, even she could not suppress a smile. A few moments more of excited chatter before the pair finally rose too, Jaheira heading straight for the stairs and starting as she noticed him sat there.

'Anomen, what are you-?'

Jaheira glanced back to the girl behind her, who was now ordering something at the bar, before returning her gaze to him with a pitying look. She said nothing more though, merely sighed and shook her head as she continued past him. Anomen sighed himself, rising stiffly from his seat to make the few paces over to the bar.

'A nightcap, my lady?' he inquired, the girl starting only to smile widely as she whirled to see it was him.

'Now, was that a question, Anomen, or an offer?' she laughed, a hand still at her chest as she added, 'Goodness, you startled me, I thought you had gone to bed.'

But before Anomen could reply, the server had returned to place a large jug on the counter in front of them.

'Yer water, m'lady.'

'Thank you,' she nodded, beginning to gather up the heavy skirts of her robes in one hand. 'I thought it might be an idea,' she continued to him with a laugh and Anomen wondered absently just how much wine she'd had. Robes in hand, she turned back for the jug when he plucked it from the bar and held it above her reach.

'Allow me.'

Fritha snorted. 'My _hero_.'

Though, for all her scorn, she seemed happy enough; both hands free to hold her skirts out of the way as they finally made their way upstairs.

'You seemed very pleased before, my lady, was Jierdan's offer a sound one?'

'Oh, you saw that, did you?' the girl confirmed, continuing nonchalantly, 'Well, nothing has been finalised. We are to send notice to his lodgings tomorrow if we accept –it will need to be discussed by everyone, because it's a long way and with the winter upon us-'

'Fritha,' he prompted and the girl laughed sheepishly.

'Sorry. Lord Jierdan holds lands in the Windspear Hills and he wants us to go there and rout the bandits who have been causing problems in the area.'

'The Windspears?' Anomen exclaimed, 'That would be another few days travel east of Umar and hunting brigands in this weather…' he trailed off, not wanting to voice his reservations though she seemed to understand, Fritha nodding as she smiled grimly.

'I know, which is why he has offered us seven thousand gold for the task.'

'_Seven thousand!_ Why, with that you would have enough to pay Gaelen…'

'Yes,' agreed Fritha looking suddenly solemn, 'but Jaheira is right, I mustn't get my hopes up. Not everyone may want to go and if not enough of us agree, we will have to refuse the offer. It will be dangerous work in treacherous conditions and I decided long ago I could not sacrifice another's life for Imoen's.'

'Well, you will have my support,' Anomen assured her gravely.

'I thought you might say that.'

Anomen felt a smile quirk his lips.

'Well, the Order do rather frown upon leaving a damsel in distress.'

Fritha laughed wryly. '_Oho,_ you had better be referring to Imoen.'

They had reached her door by now and he handed back to her the jug, the girl receiving with a deep curtsey and a wide smile, before disappearing into her room in a swish of green.

'Goodnight, Anomen.'

'Goodnight, Fritha.'


	78. Knight takes Queen

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

_Author's note: I was not supposed to publish this until Friday, but the sun is shining and it has made me so happy after so much rain, I could not wait. Thanks to my betas and those who have left feedback, and I am interested to see if anyone can guess correctly which song Fritha's little ditty is based upon. :-)_

**Knight takes Queen**

Jaheira smiled, watching the group milling about her, laughing and talking, Cernd and Ahsdale in the centre of it all as they prepared for their departure. Late though they had been in getting to bed, everyone had risen to see the pair off, their group slowly gathering outside the inn in the pale grey dawn, helping to load the mule and make their last farewells.

Jaheira had already told the others of Jierdan's offer that morning as they had taken breakfast, waiting for Fritha to fetch the mule from the stables a few streets away, and though they had all expressed similar reservations, the promise of seven thousand gold pieces was enough to convince them and it was agreed unanimously. Fritha had been overjoyed at the verdict, sending a message over to the Mithrest to inform his Lordship of their acceptance, a neat map of the hills and a reply returned with the same boy expressing the Lord's satisfaction and giving them directions to the holding of man named Garren, who would be able to give them further instructions.

Jaheira cast her eyes up to the sky, trying to get a measure of the weather in which they would soon be travelling. Heavy clouds were hanging in the west and though it was cold, the sun was slowly rising in the east, the air fresh and pleasant enough to leave her itching to be away herself. Their journey to the Windspears would be long and arduous, and she hoped enough so to dissuade many a bounty hunter in favour of easier prey.

'Well, you've likely a fine day for it,' Jaheira greeted as Cernd left the small crowd to make his way over to her, Ahsdale sat quietly at his hip.

The druid smiled. 'We both have –I am glad that you have managed to secure this final quest; there is a sense of completeness to my departure now.'

'So then, Cernd, all set?' called a voice behind them, Fritha stepping from the inn where she had been collecting a freshly baked loaf for the druid's lunch. 'And hello there, curly-bonce!' she trilled as she reached them, giving Ahsdale's hair an affectionate ruffle, 'Ooo, not long now until you're off on your adventure.'

Jaheira watched as Fritha faltered, glancing briefly to her as though wary of some censure as she asked Cernd, 'Er, can I?'

'Certainly!' the man laughed, seeming happy to hand the child over to the girl after two days of unfounded distance, Fritha beaming as she chatted to the boy now on her hip.

'Come on, Ahsdale, come and meet a friend of mine.'

They watched as she took him over to meet the mule Anomen and Minsc were loading, Fritha crouching slightly and showing Ahsdale how to gently stroke the soft grey hair of his neck, Aerie stooping to fuss over the boy as well. Even Valygar looked mildly interested now it seemed Ahsdale was no longer constantly on the verge of tears, the ranger making some comment that sent Aerie a fierce red as Haer'Dalis looked suddenly uneasy and the rest of them laughed, the child oblivious to all as he watched the mule watch him.

At her side, Cernd sighed wistfully. 'I will miss this company. I never thought anything could make this city bearable, but you all did.'

Jaheira smiled. 'They have that way of growing on you. So which route will you be taking to Trademeet?'

'The southern road and then up through the Hancoed Pass. It is longer than the more direct route but less prone to flooding. And yourselves?'

Jaheira shrugged, seeing that almost tenday of travelling ahead of them.

'The Greater East-Western way for the first few days, then we will likely cut through the hills to make the rest of the way south. It is a wilderness out there, no roads or villages -I am quite looking forward to it,' she added with a laugh that he shared. 'Come, the caravan is due to leave soon. I doubt they will wait for you.'

A few last well-wishes as the others returned to the tavern and their own packing, only Jaheira, Fritha, Aerie and Anomen accompanying the druid to the gates, Fritha at their head and still bearing Ahsdale as they walked, the child making attempts to join in as she serenaded him and anyone else awake at that hour, with a rousing marching song.

'_Some talk of Drizzt Do'urden, and some of Peracles. __Of Wulfgar and Elminster, and such great names as these. __But of all the world's brave heroes, there's none that leads the fight, w__ith such a stout and valiant heart as the P,urple Dragon Knight! __Now, Dragon Knights are fearless and-'_

'Fritha, what _are_ you singing to the boy?' Jaheira interrupted sharply before she could really get into the second verse, Fritha glancing back with a confused frown as though she thought it obvious.

'Cernd's from Cormyr; everyone must learn the songs of their homeland, mustn't they, Ahsdale?'

Cernd smiled slightly, nodding his mild acquiescence. 'Quite so, but you forget I am originally from Athkatla.'

'Oh, yes,' Fritha laughed, turning immediately to the knight walking next to him, 'Anomen, which songs did you learn as a child?'

Anomen looked, for a moment, caught out though he answered after a thoughtful pause, 'Well, there was _The Midsummer_ _Fair_ and _I Saw a Ship_-'

'Oh, I know that one!' Fritha exclaimed, beaming as she returned her attentions to the child.

'_I saw a ship a-sailing, a-sailing on the sea. And, oh, but it was laden with pretty things for thee…'_

The caravan was already outside the gates, making the last preparations for their departure. It was a small one, only a few covered wagons with a surrounding company of guards and smaller carts, Cernd already having arranged a place for Ahsdale with the caravan master's wife, safe and warm inside the one of the wagons, while he would lead the mule behind it on foot.

Their group had halted before the gates, Ahsdale returned to his father's care, the man clinching the child on his hip with one hand, the mule's halter secure in the other as they made their final goodbyes.

'So, this is it; as the ageing lion must leave his pride so must we also part.'

'Aye,' sighed Fritha, 'but though the swallows leave for the winter-'

'-they may yet return in the spring,' finished Aerie solemnly, before she snorted and the two girls were lost to laughter.

Cernd just shook his head, still smiling as Jaheira stepped forward.

'Well, it has been good travelling with you, Cernd; perhaps our paths will cross again one day.'

'Indeed…' he agreed, adding quietly, 'You will remember my offer, will you not? It still stands for when your current brood has managed to fly the nest.'

Jaheira dipped her face in a slow nod. 'I will bear it in mind. Safe journey, little one. You too,' she smiled, clapping the druid on the arm. He nodded once and then as an afterthought leaned in and kissed her cheek.

'My thanks, Jaheira, for all you have done.'

Cernd turned, passing under the great stone gateway to join the others as the cry for the off went up from the head wagon, Fritha still shouting after them.

'-and you must sing to him, Cernd, you must teach him all the songs of his homeland! And be good, Donkey!'

Cernd glanced back with a smile and held up a hand in one last farewell before he turned to lead the mule after the final wagon as the caravan slowly set off. Fritha sighed, a mix of satisfied and wistful as they turned from the gates.

'Well, I suppose we should get back to the inn and get ready to leave ourselves.'

Back at the Coronet, the common room was slowly filling as other patrons rose to face the day, most of their own group still back in their rooms packing though some had finished, much to Anomen's discomfort. The knight frowned, re-filling his cup even though the tea was only an inch from the rim, _anything_ to distract him from the pair sat opposite him. Aerie and Haer'Dalis were the only others at the table and seemed to want to make the most of these last few moments of virtual solitude before they were once more forced to spend every moment with a group. They were sat close, their quiet talk punctuated by Aerie's giggling, the pair blind to all but each other and painful to watch.

'Right, how are we-' sang a voice behind him, Fritha appearing at the table, a pack at her back when she stopped, suddenly transfixed as she watched Aerie feed the tiefling a piece of apple and seal it with a light kiss. Fritha glanced to him looking utterly nauseated. 'I think I'll wait outside.'

Anomen nodded and grabbed his cloak. 'I will join you.'

In the street, the sky had darkened, heavy pillow-like clouds full of snow rolling in on the west wind. It felt as though the sky was lower than usual, just skimming the surrounding rooftops and Fritha had the strangest fancy that she could reach up and touch it.

'It could snow within the next few hours,' offered Anomen evenly.

Fritha sighed, wondering if this plan wasn't a fool's errand, whatever coin was promised.

'Well, we will be travelling today on the roads, so-'

She stopped as light laughter echoed above them, Fritha climbing the steps next to them to see Luss out playing on the flat rooftop next to the inn, the young girl knelt over a scattering of knuckle bones, a ball in hand as she prepared for her move, a small wooden tusked-pig solemnly watching the proceedings.

'Luss?' called Fritha, the girl glancing up and suddenly she was racing across to them, pig in hand and almost tripping over her own feet in boots that looked solid enough albeit a few sizes too large.

'Fritha! Fritha!' she lisped, closing upon them for Fritha to confirm her two front teeth were missing, the bard giving a theatrical gasp.

'Goodness, Luss, where have your teeth gone! Ah, don't tell me, you've been fighting, haven't you? Oh, Luss, and I thought you were such a nice girl!'

Luss giggled delightedly. 'No, silly, they were just baby teeth. I did as Mama told me, and put them under my pillow and the Tooth Mouse came and swapped them for a whole three coppers! I bought Henir, see,' she beamed, showing them the handsome wooden pig painted in browns and oranges, closer inspection revealing a long crack along its side.

'Ooo, he looks like he's been in the wars.'

Luss nodded, frowning as she explained, 'Yes, Flyk and I were arguing. She said I had hidden her hairbrush, but that was only because she had eaten my share of jam at supper last tenth day. And she said it was Nera, but I knew it hadn't been because she doesn't like blackberries and I still wouldn't tell Flyk where her brush was so she threw Henir off the roofs!'

The child had said this all very quickly, her tale ending to find her pink in breathless indignation.

'Oh dear, here let me see,' Fritha smiled, tutting as she took the toy from her unresisting hands to better examine it. 'Hmm, it's serious, I'll give you that. Luckily for you, my friend Anomen here is a cleric.'

The girl brightened instantly. 'Oh yes, I remember –can you help him, sir?'

Anomen drew back, looking rather perturbed as both girls turned to him.

'Well, ah-'

'Now, Anomen,' Fritha admonished, an impish smirk hiding behind the sober look, 'you _must_ heal poor Henir, it is your solemn duty as a priest.'

'But, my lady-'

'Come now, put out your hand,' Fritha cut in, taking his hand to raise it palm up and place the small pig carefully within. 'There. Now be good, Henir –don't bite him,' she warned the creature, eliciting a giggle from Luss, Fritha taking the knight's other hand to place it gently over the top and cover the wooden pig from view. Luss watched, memorised, as Fritha lightly placed her hands about his and Anomen felt the toy within tremble with a sudden heat, Fritha stepping back to allow him to reveal the fine wooden pig, as whole as it had ever been.

'Oh, Henir,' cried Luss as he lowered his hand to offer it back to her, 'you're all mended! Thank you, sir.'

Anomen smiled gently. 'You are very welcome, young lady.'

'Fritha? Anomen?' came a voice she recognised as Jaheira's echoing up from the street behind them, Fritha glancing back at the sound.

'Oh, sounds like we have to go. You and Henir be careful now, Luss –and no more fighting with your sister.'

'She started it!' the girl shouted after them with a laugh.

'Your magic grows,' said Anomen as they crossed for the stairs, though his tone was free of the distrust she had heard from others on the matter. Fritha smiled.

'Yes, mending broken pigs today and, if Valygar is to be believed, tomorrow I'll be levelling cities and enslaving the hearts of men.'

Anomen laughed. 'I do not think you need any magic for that- oh, my apologies,' he faltered, suddenly uncomfortable, 'I did not mean-'

Fritha shook her head, embarrassed herself. 'No, I shouldn't have-'

'Fritha?'

The girl quickened her pace. 'Coming!'

The rest of the group were already gathered in the street, Aerie managing to tear her attention from Haer'Dalis long enough to send Fritha a pointed look as she descended the steps with Anomen though she was given no chance to comment.

'Ah, Fritha, there you are,' said Jaheira, 'we are ready to depart bar one final matter; did you speak to the ostler as agreed?'

Fritha nodded. 'Yes, and our next lucky beast of burden has been arranged and is awaiting us now: a Moonshea moor pony.' Anomen just caught of glimpse of Fritha's wicked grin as she turned to set off. 'I named him _Toffee_.'

Jaheira looked like she _just_ wrestled herself away from biting, her voice wavering with strained interest as she inquired, '_Really?_'

'Yes, though it was going to be _Princess_ if he had been a girl.'

'How… _nice_.'

And it was to Fritha's teasing they made their way over to the stables to collect the stout grey pony she had bought, loading their tents and other supplies upon its strong back and it was another hour before they had left the city gates, taking the main road westwards from the city. Fritha glanced back before they disappeared into the forests for one last look at the city she would not likely see for a good month or more, the stone sprawl subfusc under dark clouds.

xxx

They were about an hour or so along the road now, their march not so fast as to prevent chatter, though brisk enough to leave them breathless with it, Fritha leading the pony at their rear and taking an unusual delight in the trip. The snow had not come in the end, the clouds rolling onwards into the east at a pace Fritha rather wished they could match, the morning suddenly dawning anew as the sky cleared, the air bright and crisp, alive with talk, birdsong and cheerful beat of hooves over the hard ground, the ice that had pooled in the frozen tracks of cartwheels' melting in the weak sunlight.

The pony next to her snorted, his breath misting and Fritha smiled, letting her eyes drift back to those before her. Aerie and Haer'Dalis were walking close to each other as they chatted with Minsc and Anomen, the ranger giving up his usual position at their head to Valygar and Jaheira.

Things had been hard for all of them this last tenday and though there would still no doubt be trials to come, Fritha finally felt as though there was an end in sight and one better than she would have before imagined. Minsc now had a high-ranking Wychlaran prepared to speak in his defence when he returned to his homelands, Aerie and Haer'Dalis had each other and Anomen…

Fritha watched the tall blue-cloaked figure before her laugh mildly, letting it strengthen her will. Anomen could return to the Order, go on campaigns with his brothers and begin the life he had spent so long working towards -and he would be happy. She felt herself nod firmly. Her decision was the best one for them both and she liked to think that one day Anomen would look back, when he was a little older with a proper lady of a wife and many glorious campaigns behind him and he would realise the same. Perhaps Nalia would have her lands returned to her by then, and Fritha imagined the pair meeting up to take tea together somewhere in the city, talking about the old times and the people they had once travelled with. She would be no more than a memory…

Fritha swallowed, raising her face to the icy blue sky and waiting for the tears to subside. It was the right decision and all for the best.

She was not sure where she noticed it first, as a noise in the air or a rhythm in her feet, only that suddenly the sound of a horse was pounding the road behind her. She swung back in time to see a bay mare crest the slight slope at a canter and Fritha was about to order everyone off the path, when the rider saw them and slowed the beast to a trot. He was young, about seventeen she guessed as he closed to them, dark hair windswept and tanned face flushed with the cold, his eyes quickly surveying their group before coming to rest on their resident knight.

'Sir Anomen Delryn?' he asked, breathless as he slipped deftly from the saddle, the reins still in his hands, his cloak billowing back to reveal the crest of the Order upon his scarlet tunic. Anomen looked a touch alarmed.

'It is I.'

'I am Squire Trewlin, sir, and I am sent by the Order with a message. There is no easy way to tell you this, but I regret to inform you your father has passed on.'

A surprised muttering of oaths and sympathies that hushed almost instantly. Anomen looked saddened by the news, but quietly so, his regrets perhaps more for what could have been than what was, Fritha the first to break the heavy silence, relinquishing the pony's halter to Aerie as she stepped to his side.

'Anomen, I am so sorry. We will return to the city at once.'

'No, there will be no need, my lady,' he assured her gently, turning to the lad to confirm, 'It was the drink, I suppose?'

Trewlin blinked. 'Ah, no, sir, he- he was murdered.'

'Murdered?'

'Yes, sir,' the squire continued quickly, 'in the early hours of this morning. The assassin was caught soon afterwards though injured in the capture. He only just awoke in the Helmites' infirmary and confessed all –he was hired by one Saerk Farrahd. The merchant has barricaded himself in his house and refuses to come out, though the city guards and a contingent from the Order have him surrounded, so it is only a matter of time.'

But Anomen barely seemed to be listening to him, the knight slowly shaking his head.

'Dead… the last of my family gone. First my sister and now my father dead by this man, this _Saerk_… My father was right all along; that merchant _was_ the one who murdered Moira,' he turned to the girl still at his side, his eyes dark, 'and _you_ convinced me otherwise.'

Fritha was so stunned, she could hardly find the breath for her, 'What?'

'Now, Anomen-' reasoned Jaheira, but Fritha had found her voice now and with it a burning desire to assure Anomen she was _not_ to blame for this injustice.

'Anomen, I understand you're upset, but how can you say that? I did all I could to support you when your sister was taken; how can you hold me responsible?'

She had hoped the injured tone which she took no trouble to conceal would calm him somewhat, but it was as though he was a different person, his grief and guilt leaving him suddenly furious.

'_I_ wanted to take Saerk's life when Moira was first killed, to take the justice both my father and my honour cried out for, and _you_ told me to let him go!'

'I _told_ you to look for evidence and there was none! We went to the Magistrate and she said herself there was nothing to be done within the law.'

'Er, perhaps you should both…' Aerie trailed off as neither looked to her, the pair focused solely on each other.

'The _law_,' Anomen scoffed unpleasantly, 'and when did _you_ begin to care for such a thing?'

Fritha flushed, defiant in the sting of his words. 'I _don't_, but I seem to recall that Order of yours liking it well enough.'

'Anomen,' Jaheira attempted again, 'we understand you have just lost your father-'

'My _father_,' he spat savagely, 'Ha! I care not a whit for him, but for my sister, for sweet Moira -her murderer free all this time when I should have been the one to avenge her,' he whirled back to Fritha, 'and _you_ stopped me with talk of laws you yourself hold only in contempt!'

'I did my best and advised you as the knight you aspired to be!'

Anomen just shook his head. 'And yet how little concern you have for my vocation now as you drag me about the city, an accomplice to your crimes!'

'_You-_' Fritha breathed, too hurt to think of a name to call him, 'I never _dragged_ you anywhere and there _is_ a difference between housebreaking and cold-blooded _murder!_ And one you seem happy to ignore -you wanted to take revenge on a man when we had no proof he was even the killer!'

'No,' Anomen agreed, throwing his pack to the ground and swinging himself into the waiting saddle, the squire too stunned to protest, 'but we know well enough now and I will see him _dead_ for it!'

'Anomen, dismount from there immediately!' ordered Jaheira, though Fritha was of a different mind.

'Go then!' she screamed up at him, 'Go and murder as many merchants as it will take to assuage you of the guilt that it was _you_ who left your sister to her fate while you pursued dreams of a nice shiny knighthood!'

'And what would you know of it?' he roared back, 'I am not the one who is tainted by Murder's blood!'

A collective gasp, even Anomen looking stunned by the words that had just left his mouth and perhaps it would have shocked him into taking stock of the situation had the squire not used this moment of silence to finally find his voice.

'Ah, sir?'

'You will return to the Order on foot, squire,' Anomen barked, sharply wheeling the horse about.

'Yes, sir,' the lad saluted though the knight was already gone, the horse leaving them at a gallop, kicking up a hail of dirt in his wake.

'_That_ _bloody knight!_' Fritha shrieked after him, her eyes falling on the bag he had dumped at her feet and suddenly she was taking her frustrations out on the worn leather pack, kicking it violently until she was too tired to continue. She dropped to a crouch, burying her head in her knees to catch her breath. A hand at her shoulder followed by a voice, quiet and kind.

'Fritha?'

'It's all right, Jaheira,' she sighed, making to stand again and finally take in the group of stunned faces behind her, 'I'm all right.'

'Do you think he will be okay?' ventured Aerie, the elf's eyes still fixed on the horizon Anomen had just disappeared over. 'I've never seen him so angry.'

'I have,' muttered Fritha, 'After he first learnt his sister had been killed and the Magistrate informed him there was not enough evidence for an arrest –I told him he should heed the law and look where it has got him.'

'This isn't your fault,' snapped Jaheira promptly.

'I know it's not!'

'So what do we do now?' asked Valygar, a voice of calm in the rising tempers.

'Boo says Anomen chose his own path, so let him be the one to walk it.'

'We can't just leave him, Minsc; he might do something foolish.'

'I think _that_ is a certainty.'

'Haer'Dalis!'

Fritha glanced to the still silent squire at her side. 'I don't suppose you want to come to the Windspears with us, do you?'

He shook his head mutely. Fritha sighed again. 'Didn't think so.'

She picked up Anomen's pack and thrust it at the lad, all determination as she turned on her heel and started back in the direction of the city. 'Come on then.'

And as a group they made to follow her. Fritha stalked along, her jaw clenched. She would save Anomen from himself –and then she was going to kill him!

xxx

Anomen kept his eyes fixed resolutely ahead, the clattering hoof beats echoing in his ears, his knees bent and posting with the rhythm of the horse beneath him as it carried him through the blur of streets at a brisk trot. His mount had been tired after its journey out with the squire, unable to keep up that gallop for longer than a few minutes and he had let the horse slow to a modest canter for the rest of the way back to the city.

Anomen felt the hatred pulse through his heart with every hoof beat, the duration of the ride giving time for his fury to calm into a cold anger. Saerk, that _murderer!_ He and his father's petty quarrel had robbed him of a much loved sister and Anomen hated that Lord Cor had been right in his accusations, because if he had been right about that, then perhaps there was a slim possibility he had been right about other things as well. His father had spent his youth telling him he was not good enough to become a paladin, that the Order would never accept him as a knight and then when they had the song had changed: he was not worthy to be counted in their ranks and one day the Order would realise what his father had known all along and Anomen would be dismissed in shame.

And the worst thing was, a part of Anomen had always worried he was right. Those four long years as squire labouring under the shadow of such doubt that even now when he was knighted he could not quite shake the feeling. However desperately he tried to quell it, his temper was as vile as his father's had been, something the man had been all too pleased to point out to him whenever they had fought, Lord Cor crowing about how it was inevitable that one day it would get the better of him and Anomen would shame both the Order and himself, and sometimes the knight just wished it _would_ happen so he did not have the worry of it hanging over him any longer.

It already felt as if it was unavoidable when he could say such things to one he had professed to care for so ardently. His anger at finding his father had been killed by the same man who had murdered dear Moira only months before had left him reeling with an agonising guilt which had screamed for an outlet. And there was Fritha at his sleeve, so mild and kind. It had been so hard those last few days, ignoring the love and passions and worries he felt for the girl and in that moment when they had fought, he had just wanted to break it, destroy whatever was between them so wholly that there was no room even for hope anymore. Well, it was surely done now; his mind recalling for him an image of her face, not stunned as the others had been but twisted with an anger that had matched his own. There was no way she would be reconsidering her decision. His family was dead, his love lost and the blame for it all could be placed upon one man.

Anomen rounded that last corner, the house he sought about halfway along the wide street. It was hardly the estate his family owned but it was a large house all the same and looked grand even there, on that street of fine buildings, the house set back from the street and surrounded by tall iron railings, a flight of polished marble steps leading up to the front door. Many members of the Watch were stood outside, some just talking while others kept back the crowds of people that were already gathering and Anomen recognised a few squires from the Order in their number, a young lad he knew as Squire Veren busy directing things from the other side of the street. Anomen gave his mount a jolt with his heels and quickened its pace. Now he would face Saerk and he would bring him justice or death.

The crowds had parted hastily before him and Anomen clattered to a halt in the men's midst to swing himself from the saddle, an unnamed squire stepping in to take the reins as Veren rushed to his side.

'Sir Anomen, you've arrived!' he cried, clearly glancing about for Trewlin but he was given no chance to question the squire's absence.

'Indeed,' said Anomen, his gaze fixed on the house before him, 'what of Saerk?

'He is still barricaded in his home, sir, though we have both this entrance and the back of the building covered.'

'He has hostages?' questioned Anomen, surprised they had yet to storm in and merely force his arrest.

'Well, no sir, but the Order wanted to minimise the potential for civil disturbance; we have had orders to await the arrival of Sir Gethan before-'

'There have been new orders,' interrupted Anomen, 'Send for a battering ram. A contingent will remain at the back of the house to block any escape while we enter by the main doors and secure the house room by room. Any man that resists will be met with force.'

'Yes, sir!'

**…**

Fritha marched along, not bothering to check how the others were keeping up as she strode through the streets. It had taken less time to return to the city than they had in leaving it, but it had still been an hour and the march had given her time to calm down, if only because being furious required energy and she just didn't have enough spare at the pace she was driving them. So after a lot of raging, a bit of crying and longer than both of those activities spent sulking, Fritha finally came to the conclusion that Anomen had been upset about his father and sister, and possibly some other things which _were_ her fault and although she was not pleased by his reaction, she at least understood it.

Fritha side stepped past a man who had suddenly stopped look in a shop window, just managing to keep her pace and having to stop herself from breaking into a jog. She wanted to be there. She wanted the inevitable confrontation with Anomen to be over with, the girl unable to stop going over it in her mind: what she would say, how she would respond to his many possible answers. She expected of him what she felt herself: a little anger, a little embarrassment and a _lot_ of contrition. She never should have made that comment about his sister, even if it was true –in fact, _especially_ if it was true, Fritha feeling her guilt anew as she recalled the spite of using their closeness to really drive the blade home.

Fritha watched the end of the street come closer with every step, a small swell of panic fluttering through her heart. She hated feeling like this. Gods, she hoped Anomen would be ready to talk as soon as they arrived, that he had not done anything rash. Another surge of fierce panic, though she quelled it. Even if the ride had not given him enough of an opportunity to calm down there would be others of the Order there who would not just let him stride in there and murder the man.

No, everything would be fine, Fritha reasoned firmly as she rounded that final corner. She stopped.

The street was in an uproar, crowds of onlookers gathered about the front of a tall handsome house, the city watch keeping them back and shouting orders to one another, Anomen himself nowhere to be seen. Fritha glanced back, those behind her looking just as stunned, Squire Trewlin just stood gaping, the pony's halter slack in his hand as he stared down the street.

'Where are the other squires?' he questioned aloud.

'He can't have…' breathed Aerie, looking fearful. Fritha was gone in an instant.

'Fritha!'

But Jaheira's cry was duly ignored, Fritha fighting her way through the crowds her heart beating wildly; he wouldn't have, he just wouldn't have. The guards let her through on sight, Jaheira but a step behind her and the pair reached the house just as Squire Veren appeared at the doorway and the boy running down the steps looking frantic.

'My Lady Fritha? Oh, thanks be! He is inside. Everything was going well, we were moving through the house securing the rooms one by one –most of the house guards just surrendered when they saw us. But when we reached upstairs, Saerk was there in the main hall. Sir Anomen confronted him with his crime and the bastard just _laughed! _Anomen went mad, I have never seen him so angry -he is threatening to kill him!'

'Oh _Gods!_' Fritha cried, frantically tearing past him and up the steps, the dim hallway and wide staircase but a blur as she raced up to the first floor, the stairs leading straight to the tall mahogany doors, both thrown wide on that deathly silent hall.

Everyone within was frozen, guards, squires and servants alike stood at the edges of that huge room, no more animated than the finely upholstered benches and low tables set about them. A young girl in a fine yellow gown was quietly comforting the older woman sat next her who was choking on her own dry sobs, presumably Saerk's wife and daughter. And all were transfixed by the pair before them. Veren had been right, Fritha had never seen Anomen looking so furious, the old merchant on his knees and only just, a large gauntleted fist clasped about the neck of his robes so tightly he was having trouble breathing, his face already bearing a grazed cheek and bloody lip while Anomen loomed over him, his mace drawn and trembling in his rage.

The others were gathering at her back, a stillness over them all as they watched the scene before them, Anomen shaking as he demanded, 'Your quarrel was with my father, why bring Moira into it? Answer me!'

'I wanted him to suffer,' Saerk spat hoarsely, 'She was his only comfort so I took it.' The merchant's face twisted with a sadistic smile. 'I heard she begged for mercy as they choked the life out of her.'

His words had the predictable effect, Anomen enraged as he raised the mace above his head. '_You!_'

Fritha heard the word leave her throat before she even realised it.

'Anomen.'

All heads whipped to the sound to find her there before the doorway, Anomen staring back at her as though she had risen from the dead.

'Fritha?'

'Yes,' she nodded, slowly moving into the room as she added with a nervous laugh, 'you did not think you could quit our argument so easily, did you?' She gestured to the man he held, 'Anomen, please, I know you are angry, but you have to let him go.'

The knight looked stricken. 'He murdered my sister! It is just!'

'Yes, I know,' Fritha agreed, still edging forward, her heavy-soled boots clicking slightly on the grey marble tiles, 'and he should be punished for it, but not like this. Please.'

Anomen shook his head, his shoulders slumping defeatedly. 'You do not understand, Fritha, the anger I feel sometimes, so strong as to consume me… I have ruined everything…'

Fritha pressed her lips together, the tears welling as her desperation rose. 'Anomen, please, there is nothing you have done yet you cannot come back from.'

At their knees, Saerk managed a contemptuous snort. 'Listen to you mewl, pathetic boy! I should have killed your whore here, then how you would have wept.'

'Silence!' Anomen roared, shaking the man so violently he fell sideways, his daughter crying out as Saerk fought to regain his balance before he was strangled by the neck of his robes.

'Anomen, _please,'_ Fritha begged, almost next to him now, 'don't do this. This is what Saerk wants; he knows he will hang and he would see you ruined too.'

Anomen whirled back to her, her own desperation echoed in his wide wild eyes.

'So I will be ruined. _So?_ What does it matter? Why should you even care? You do not love me!'

Fritha felt her heart twist, heavy with the confession that had been pressing on her for a while now.

'No…' She admitted quietly, raising her head to look up at him as openly as she had ever faced anyone, 'but I should like the chance to try.'

The room about them seemed to hold their breath as she took that last step forward and reached out a hand to gently tug at his sleeve. A loud smash of shattering ceramics as his mace hit the tiled floor, Saerk freed to collapse in a gasping heap next to it. Anomen was shaking his head slowly, unfocused and drawn as though he had just awoken from some nightmare.

'I- please excuse me a moment.'

He walked from her, disappearing through the archway behind them, the guards moving in to seize Saerk as Jaheira rushed over to gather Fritha to her, the girl nodding through the many questions on her well-being, feeling suddenly exhausted as she gently pushed the druid back and made to follow the knight.

The archway had led onto a small dayroom, the room itself appointed with a balcony that faced southwards, Anomen stood at the railings looking out over the city, bright and bustling under a cold highsun, oblivious to his misery and he wondered if it would even care if it knew.

'Anomen.'

He turned to face her, Fritha looking as worn and tired as he felt. She managed a smile for him, though she did not look any happier for it, the girl moving to his side to gaze out over the city as he had been.

'I acted outside of my superiors' commands,' Anomen continued eventually, the cool distance of the subject all he could manage just then. 'The Order will wish to speak to me of this. And there will be Saerk's initial trial and my father's affairs to be put in order.' He glanced to her, wondering if he assumed too much as he asked, 'I may need to remain in the city for a few days.'

Fritha merely nodded, eyes still watching the streets below. 'That is fine, take as much time as you need, I understand there is much to prepare for your father's funeral as well. When will you hold it?'

'Tomorrow,' Anomen answered promptly. 'I will arrange everything with temple this afternoon; my father can be cremated privately as Moira was. He had no friends and I have no desire to arrange a gathering so a few more compassionate merchants can pretend he had.'

Fritha turned a pained look upon him. 'Anomen-'

'I have hated the man for years and now he is dead,' he cut in bluntly, 'I see no reason why he should have any further influence upon my life.'

The girl said nothing, just sighed tiredly, returning her attention to the city before them, the silence between them compelling him to speak again and finally discover what had been thrown into doubt the instant as he had looked up and found her in that room before him.

'Fritha, what I said before, when we fought-'

She shook her head. 'We both said things… just forget it.'

'I am sorry,' he pressed.

She sighed again, leaning forward to rest her elbows upon the railings and cup her chin in her hands. 'Yes, me too.'

'No, I am, _truly_,' he continued, wishing he could somehow convey to her the depth of his regrets, 'What I said -I have _never_ thought that –and I was so sure you would hate me and- and then you were here…' He swallowed dryly. 'You came.'

Fritha smiled faintly and shook her head as though there was a joke somewhere he was missing.

'Of course I did. Don't doubt it next time, eh?' She patted his arm gently and turned to go. 'Just come back through when you're ready.'

And Anomen turned to watch her leave, little more than a shadow as she passed through the gloom of the dayroom and disappeared back through the archway beyond.

xxx

Fritha closed her eyes as the clouds above her parted to reveal a weak afternoon sun, a light breeze stirring her hair and the long grass at her feet both, the coldness muted by the high walls as she sat in the sheltered garden of Anomen's old home waiting for him to finish directing the servants and lock-up. He had decided that the house was not needed now his father was gone, the old place to be shut up until a time when it would once more be the seat of the Delryn household; Anomen's first responsibility as the young lord: finding new positions about the city for the few servants who had still remained there to serve his father.

Fritha kept her eyes shut, seeing the place about her in her mind, the girl sat on a wall that bordered a raised bed full of azalea bushes, ivy and a flowerless honeysuckle climbing the trellis against the wall behind her. The other three walls were bare of flowers, being parts of the house, the covered walkway that ran along the lower floor opposite her providing the basis of the balcony above, both floors able to open out onto the small garth.

She sighed and opened her eyes again, letting them drift over the soothing green of the garden about her, overgrown from a summer of neglect and a touch melancholy now the winter was upon them. The gnarled leafless boughs of an old lemon tree curved above her, reaching thin branches up to the icy blue sky. The snows that had been threatening on that first day of their departure had remained absent, but Fritha knew it could not last. With every day that passed the winter only deepened.

That morning had dawned the first of Nightal, the first day of the last month, and the second would see their group setting out from the city once more, heading for the Windspears and whatever trials there they had yet to face. But before then, they at least had one final day of simpler pleasures to enjoy. The first of Nightal had another name there on the Sword Coast: the Feast of the Moon, the traditional Day of the Dead, when people would feast and drink, holding street revels and telling stories of the gods and their own favoured ancestors. A merry day for most; a more melancholy one for some others of their company. Jaheira had left the inn early that morning, she, Valygar and Minsc leaving the city with plans to walk out into the surrounding forests and make their prayers and think on those lost. Fritha's were yet to be made though she would go soon, an hour of her time tithed in scribing awaiting her at the temple of Oghma.

Those last few days in the city seemed to have passed both slow and quick by turns. Anomen had had much to do in the aftermath of his father's death, the others bearing the delay with voiceless understanding and Fritha felt some of them rather enjoyed the break, Aerie and Haer'Dalis often found curled together in the snug of the Coronet, dreaming the days away. Fritha had kept out of their way –she knew her presence, though not the cause of their separation, had hardly helped matters and she was just glad enough to have Haer'Dalis back and Aerie happy to leave the couple alone, the girl spending most of her time, when not out with Anomen, in Jaheira's room, the pair often sitting in companionable silence as Jaheira read and she played her new lute with out of practise fingers.

The druid had been quiet since Cernd had left, Jaheira at first attributing it to the man's offer, which she had divulged to a very surprised Fritha on their first evening. But after a while, Fritha had realised there was something else troubling the woman too, hours of _reading_ yielding hardly a turned page and Jaheira had eventually confessed she had yet to hear anything back from Dermin or any of the other Harpers for that matter. Fritha had not asked any more questions after that. She had forgiven Jaheira on that very day they had battled Galvarey but the woman's betrayal, however unintentional, hung between them still.

At least her days with Anomen had left Fritha too tired to worry much, the pair about the city attending meetings with lawyers and clerks of every nature. There was, as he had predicted, a hearing at the Order between he, Sir Ryan and Prelate Wessalen, Fritha perched nervously on a bench in the corridor outside the latter's office, the relief leaving her knees weak as Anomen had finally reappeared in the doorway, solemn and flushed as he had saluted his two superiors. And then there had been the start of Saerk's trial and the arrangements for the funeral and the reading of his father's will. Lord Cor had left everything to Anomen in the end, though whether intentionally or that he just had never sobered up enough to write him out of it, neither of them knew.

The clerk had been very helpful though, already taking it upon himself to settle the man's debts beforehand and cheerfully informing the knight that even now the many creditors had been paid, there was still actually quite a bit of the estate left, the clerk rattling off a list of assets which included the house there in the city, as well as a vineyard somewhere to the north and some lands to the east which were being rented out to local farmers. The older man had smiled there, explaining he understood that Anomen himself likely had little interest in settling down to run an estate, but if managed properly there was still enough left to bring in an income and he would compile him a list of reliable stewards who he could recommend for the position in his absence. Anomen had said nothing to this, merely nodded and thanked him, though he had clearly decided that at the moment he would let his inheritance lie fallow for a time.

Fritha sighed again to herself, growing cold just sat. She had helped Anomen where she could those last few days, though most of the time all she could do was attend with him and she was not even sure anymore whether her presence was desired or not. She and Anomen had not spoken again of what had been said during their _very_ unpleasant argument or, indeed, at Saerk's house. At first, every moment which found them alone together she had feared him bringing it up. And then time went on, and she had begun to anticipate it, and this last day she had been fighting against mentioning it herself.

But she did not and neither did he and Fritha wondered if perhaps he did not want to forget the whole thing. After all, it had hardly been one of the shining moments of Anomen's life and she felt again the sting of his words as she recalled their fight, her mind unable to help but dwell upon it in the long silences. Oh, not the comment Anomen had clearly regretted. After all, there was no getting away from the fact she _was_ a Bhaalspawn and she knew Anomen did not, nor ever had considered her tainted; it had just been her own spite prompting his.

No, it had been his other accusation that had really hurt, Fritha not liking to think that she had been dragging him about the city, risking his knighthood and anger from his god all for fear of her safety. And perhaps he had finally had chance to consider the same and agreed that they weren't best match. Fritha could have almost laughed, happy and sad in equal measure. Ah well, at least this way it took it all the responsibility from _her_ rapidly weakening resolve.

She glanced up with a smile as Anomen appeared from the long dining room that ran the length of the garden, clearly visible between the thin wooden columns of the walkway, the room's ornate shuttered doors all closed but one.

'They are just finishing covering the remaining furniture,' he explained as he crossed the garth to sit next to her, 'they should not be much longer.'

Fritha nodded. 'How is Sylvia?'

Anomen sighed. 'Still weeping. I can understand her sorrow; she has been here serving our family since before I was born. But she knows that the house needs to be closed up if no one is staying here. She has a position arranged along with Francis over at the Wythburn Estate –they are good people, they will take care of her.'

'And will _you_ be sorry to see the place shut up?' Fritha asked quietly. Anomen gave a half-hearted shrug.

'I do not know. This house stopped feeling like my home long before I left, but perhaps in time it could be so again. But it would be a waste of coin to keep the place open when no one lives here -especially when I have quarters at the Order and the inn both and we barely spend ten days together in the city.'

'And now the Feast of the Moon is already upon us…' Fritha sighed, absently glancing again to the sky, 'this year seems to have gone so quickly.'

'Yes, I can hardly believe we will be leaving again for the Windspears tomorrow -it feels like an age ago that we first left the city gates together.'

Fritha nodded. Anomen had not apologised for delaying their travels, the man perhaps finally realising that their relationship had come past such a point.

'Yes, it has been a strange few days, hasn't it?'

'Indeed,' he murmured, the man gazing blankly at the garden about them and for a moment they were silent before he turned to her again, his eyes avoiding her own. 'Do you recall the day that began it all? How we spoke with the child, Luss, and had our quarrel… I truly thought it all over and then you suddenly appeared in Saerk's house.'

Fritha's stomach twisted unpleasantly. The subject had been so long in the anticipating and now the moment had come Fritha was no longer sure she wanted to talk of it, the girl laughing nervously as she admitted, 'I'd be a bit hard pressed to forget _that_ part.'

Anomen nodded, his lips twitching in brief of acknowledgement of her humour though the frown was already creeping in as he continued. 'I was so angry, so ready to throw everything away and then you were there… And even then I clung to my anger; do you remember what I said, how you could not care for my fate because you did not love me?'

Fritha felt a nervous tremor run through her navel, her mouth suddenly dry though he continued without giving her a chance to answer either way.

'I thought long ago that if I could not have you as my love, I would rather have nothing, but I was wrong.' He glanced up, finally able to face her, it seemed, 'I would have you as my friend again, Fritha, we can pretend none of this happened, just forget about it all.'

Fritha smiled gently. 'Anomen, I was always your friend.'

'Yes, but it was different after… afterwards. I miss it. I should not have pursued you as I did.' He sighed, looking suddenly old, 'I made you miserable.'

'No!' she refuted instantly, before admitting with a sheepish laugh, 'Well, _yes_, but it was nice too -and awkward and terrifying, but I would not change what happened. And…' She swallowed dryly, 'And we don't have to forget… if you don't want to.'

Anomen did not look at her, but the hoarseness of his voice gave away his emotion. 'What you said to me, Fritha, when I- when you- I understand if it was to calm me, if you did not mean it.'

Fritha dipped her face, the voices in her head screaming at her so she could barely hear her own reply.

'I spoke no lie that day.'

Silence. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath and Fritha could not even risk a glance to the man next to her, though perhaps words were not necessary, the girl looking down as her hand, which had been resting lightly on the wall beneath her, was slowly covered with one of his own. Fritha closed her eyes and dipped her head even further, burrowing it into the collar of her cloak as she felt the heat surge though her face, feeling _very_ awkward _and_ discomfited -and perhaps the tiniest glimmer of pleasure too.

'Well, I think that's us about done, my lord,' came a gruff voice before them, Anomen jumping to his feet, Fritha finally able to look up at him and found his face was at least nowhere near as pink as hers likely was, though he still looked a touch embarrassed, the knight clearing his throat uncomfortably to give the last few instructions to Francis and the other servants. Fritha covered her face with her hand, laughing quietly at herself, the voice behind her eyes sighing deeply.

_Oh, bloody Hells._

xxx

They parted ways just outside the gate. Prayers for those family members who had passed made up an important part of the Moon Feast's celebrations, Fritha leaving him to make her own, though she did not say where she would be giving worship –he suspected it was not Mask's shrine. Anomen himself headed over to the temple to Helm to burn the usual incense for his mother, and now his sister and father as well, the man knelt before the altar with a few other latecomers, their muttered prayers rising up to the eaves with those fragile tendrils of scented smoke.

And from there, it was only a short distance to the Order's compound and he walked the way slowly. Such a strange afternoon it had been: shutting up his old house, dismissing servants he had known all his life, his new role as lord of an estate unfamiliar enough to leave him feeling restless and out of sorts -_and_ grinning like an idiot apparently, he considered wryly as he caught a glimpse his reflection in the dull grey canal beneath him.

Fritha had been quiet those last few days. He had wanted to speak to her about Saerk's house since it had happened, but he had felt ashamed, too. Fritha had returned to him even after what he had done and said, and Anomen felt he had no right to hope for more, their days together filled with tasks and appointments that only served to remind him of his shame and on those only two occasions he had found his courage in the evenings, Fritha had not been in her room, though he could hear the telling strains of a lute drifting from under Jaheira's door.

But, at last, that afternoon the subject had been broached. He had expected her to smile and tell him what she always had: she was his friend but any more between them was not possible and that it was all for the best. And he had been so ready to accept it too, believing he had lost her friendship forever making him realise just how much it meant to him and then…

Anomen felt himself stop on the path and for an instant he was back there in his garden, her hand cold beneath his, what she had said, how she had laughed and gone so red, and he just wanted to remember the moment over and over and never lose that sense of utter breathless joy, the feeling so large he felt as though he would burst.

And then their parting at the gates, the girl just wishing him well and that she would see him back at the inn, not shy or embarrassed, just so- so _natural,_ just as had once been and it was wonderful. Anomen sighed and set out once more, feeling the smile fade on his face. He knew her plans would not, _could_ not have changed. That she would retrieve Imoen and then likely have to leave Amn, but who could say what the future held; the Harpers could not hunt her forever and perhaps she could return and…

Anomen forced the hope away; it would likely lead only to disappointment. If he could just have this, just cling to it for as long as he could, he would be happy.

Two squires he did not know were on guard at the gates, looking cold and bored though they straightened as they saw him, raising their hands in salute as he passed under the gate arch and made to cross the empty courtyard beyond. It had been difficult the last time he had returned to the Order, his fate uncertain as he had entered the Prelate's office, the greying old paladin sat behind his desk while Anomen's direct superior, Sir Ryan, stood at the man's side, dark eyes surveying him austerely.

The meeting had been brief though, Anomen asked to explain his actions and motivations before the two men sternly reminded him of his oaths and duties as a knight; the killing of men, however guilty, was still murder, though they understood his circumstances and were glad he had turned from this path in the end. Fritha had been mentioned, but only her timely intervention, the men merely stating that they would have preferred the decision not to kill Saerk had been more from his principles than his heart.

Anomen had just nodded at this, though he wondered himself where the decision had actually come from. Had it even been anything she had said in the end? And Anomen felt he had half known the instant Fritha arrived that he would not kill the merchant, not because she had come or the soft tearful way she had pleaded, but merely because he could not have borne to become a murderer with her there watching him.

'Sir Anomen!' called a deep friendly voice, Anomen turning to see Harn striding from the knight's quarters, 'If you are here for another meeting with the Prelate, I am afraid he has returned home now. In fact, the Order is very quiet today indeed,' he added as he closed to him and they exchanged salutes, 'most who can have returned to their homes to spend the day with their families.'

'Ah, no, Sir Harn, not the Prelate, I was actually looking for Squire Trewlin,' Anomen admitted. Busy as he had been, Anomen had yet to see the squire since that first day and he wished to thank the lad for his discretion concerning the argument he witnessed; Anomen felt that Sir Ryan and the Prelate would have been decidedly _less_ impressed with Fritha's influence on his actions if they had known it stretched to housebreaking and blackmail.

'Well, I believe the squire has returned home as well,' said Harn after a pause to consider it, 'though I understand his family resides only over in the north of the city. If the matter is urgent-'

'No, no,' Anomen cut in, 'it is not pressing.'

Harn nodded and smiled good-naturedly 'Very well then. I know I have not seen you in a while, but please know I was sorry to hear of your father's passing. It was quite the bit of trouble, so I heard; it was fortunate your good lady arrived when she did, aye?'

'Sir, Fritha is not my, well…' Anomen trailed off, suddenly wondering whether she wasn't now, though Harn was hardly listening anyway.

'The few squires who were there painted quite the picture and the dormitories here have been buzzing with the tale these last few nights now: how you marched through that merchant's house to take justice for your slain family, so insensible in your rage and grief that none could halt you, and just when it seems all is to be lost, your young lady arrives and calms you with but a word and a kiss.'

'_Sorry?_'

'Yes,' sighed Harn, sounding rather wistful, 'A man driven by a murderous thirst for vengeance only to be stayed by love's hand -and they accuse you Helmites of being cold, eh?' he laughed.

'Is _that_ what people are saying?' exclaimed Anomen, sincerely hoping Fritha would be inclined to see the funny side.

'Well, yes,' agreed Harn with a slight frown, 'though this is surely not the first time you have heard it said. But pay them no mind, a man's passions are not defined by the god he kneels to.'

'No, I mean-' Anomen cut himself off with a sigh, 'no matter, sir.'

Harn nodded once, seeming to consider something as he regarded the younger knight. 'You know, we are having something of a celebration here tonight. Nothing particularly official or formal, but those who are too far from their homes to make a return, or whose only home is here in the Order, are gathering in the refectory. You and your company are most welcome to attend if you wish it. The more the merrier as they say.'

Anomen smiled and bowed sincerely. 'My thanks, Sir Harn, I will tell them.'

xxx

Jaheira tilted her face up to the sky, the bitter air sharp against her suddenly exposed throat. They had returned an hour or so ago, the journey out of the city an enjoyable break, and it had been nice to walk the nearby forests, not tracking bandits or hiding from their enemies, but merely for the pleasure of being there beneath the trees. They had split up briefly at around highsun, Jaheira moving off to find a secluded place and make her prayers for Khalid, the woman shedding a few tears too, though not as many as she would have thought and she had felt refreshed as she had rejoined the two men and their small group had finally headed back to the city.

They were back at the Coronet now, though not inside, Jaheira returning to her room only long enough to deposit her bag before moving outside with Minsc to sit upon the high walkway that ran alongside the flat roofs next door, the woman not yet ready to feel the confines of the inn. The people of the slums were busy preparing for the night's coming festivities, local children hanging the traditional streamers of coloured paper and ribbon outside their front doors to ward off the evil spirits, while their parents prepared the heavy spiced wine that would be keeping the cold at bay later in the evening.

Jaheira looked down as the door beneath them opened, Valygar stalking out and glancing up at their greetings.

'So, here you both are,' the man continued as he moved to join them, taking a seat on the steps next to Jaheira. 'Bernard said he saw you leave.'

'As have you –you are heading over to your estate?'

'The Promenade,' he corrected, 'I have a few items still to purchase before we leave tomorrow. Where are the others?'

'Haer'Dalis and Aerie mentioned something about going over to the circus this afternoon, and I imagine Fritha and Anomen are still finalising matters at his estate.'

Valygar snorted, the faintest smile twitching his lips. 'Fritha and Anomen; I have been hearing those two names paired up often lately.'

'Yes,' rumbled Minsc, 'and Boo is not happy about it either.'

'Why?' cried Jaheira, trying not to laugh, 'It is clear to anyone that he loves her.'

'That he might, but he has much growing to do yet; he lashes out with words like fists and hurts her.' Minsc folded his arms looking rather sulky as he added, 'And he is not courting her as he should! There have been no contests, no trials to earn her favour.'

'I think perhaps putting up with Fritha this last tenday has been trial enough,' said Jaheira wryly. Valygar sent her a contemplative look.

'You sound pleased.'

'I am. She truly likes him, loathed though she is to admit it.'

'Her path will not be an easy one; perhaps she _is_ better off keeping such admissions to herself.'

Jaheira shrugged mildly. 'Perhaps. But Anomen knows the risks as well as she. I was stubborn once, claimed my life had no room for such simple joys, and it did nothing for me. I was my happiest when I was with Khalid, and though I grieve his loss now, I do not regret our union.'

'As the Rashemi say: a life without tears is a life half lived,' Minsc agreed wisely. Jaheira nodded.

'And you, Corthala?'

The ranger sighed. 'There are many things I regret, but meeting Suna is not one of them.'

A contemplative silence fell over the three, though it did not last for long.

'What strange birds to find perched side by side,' called a familiar voice, Jaheira glancing down to see Haer'Dalis and Aerie strolling along the street beneath them. 'Ptarmigan, hawk and northern owl, I wonder what song they will give us.'

'A dirge would be most appropriate considering the day,' muttered Valygar dryly.

'Truly?' Haer'Dalis questioned with a glance to the girl at his side, 'Aerie led me to understand this was a day of celebration.'

Valygar said nothing, though perhaps being the last in the line of a family of cursed ancestors there was very little about the day he _could_ celebrate. Jaheira, though, took the more traditional view.

'And Aerie is right, we celebrate our ancestors and the ones who came before us; a night best spent with families if one is to hand –you will be returning to the circus later, Aerie?'

The elf nodded, smiling as she linked arms with the man at her side.

'Yes, there will be a party too but it won't even begin until much later. We were helping them to decorate the stage; the circus are putting on a show tonight, just a few of the funnier legends about Faerûn's many gods. They are even performing one of Baervar and Chiktikka Fastpaws and Quayle has the honour of playing my Lord, Baervar!' she laughed delightedly. 'But where are Fritha and Anomen? I would have though they would be back here by now.'

'They are still off about the city somewhere- though presumably _together_,' Jaheira offered, her tone eliciting amusement from most of them, though Aerie merely gave a frustrated sigh.

'Just as they have been every day. I was so _sure_ after what Fritha said in Saerk's house they would finally come together, but if anything they have just gone right back to their beginnings.'

'Tut tut, Aerie,' scolded the bard, 'you should not gossip about such things… when you can get them straight from the bird's beak!' he added with a laugh, his sharp eyes catching sight of their young leader at the end of the street. 'Ho, my raven!'

Fritha waved as she saw them, clearly heading for their group though her progress along the street was slowed by the fact she was dancing rather than walking, and attracting more than a few strange looks from the people she passed, finally reaching them to slide up to Haer'Dalis and let him twirl her under his arm with a flourish.

'Hello there,' she trilled brightly, all pink cheeks and sparkling eyes, 'what are we all talking about?'

'Why, _love_, my raven,' confessed Haer'Dalis to a background of snickering. Fritha smiled artlessly.

'Oh, well, 'tis the season for it, I suppose. The Day of the Dead; all that romance of Death and his minions up and dancing about.' She sighed wistfully. 'I wonder what Kaatje is doing now…'

'Kaatje?'

'Yes,' Fritha nodded solemnly, 'this story-telling and feasting is all well and good, but many people forget another tradition of this day: the Nightal Fyrhten!'

Jaheira groaned. 'Oh, by Silvanus, trust _you_ to revel in such foolishness.'

'The Nightal _Fyrhten?_' repeated Aerie, looking as though she was not sure she had heard her correctly.

'Yes, _children_,' explained Jaheira, putting an insulting emphasis on the word, 'make efforts to scare as many people as they can on this day.'

Fritha nodded enthusiastically. 'Yes, and on what better a day than the Day of the Dead? A good scare quickens the heart, warms the blood and lets you know you're _alive_. Imoen and I nobly dedicated ourselves to keeping the tradition for the residents of Candlekeep –and each other! Imoen was _much _better at sneaking about than me, but the true art to scaring lies in patience. I remember once I spent all night curled up in her linen chest so I could jump out on her when she went to get fresh clothes that first Nightal morning. Oh, it was brilliant!' Fritha cried, her voice wavering as she fought to speak through her growing amusement. 'We laughed about it afterwards, but at the time I scared her so badly she actually cried! Gods, that was so funny. Her stood there trying to scold me through her tears and me insensible to both as I laughed and laughed.'

And it seemed she was about to enjoy a repeat of the thing, Fritha hunched over and shaking as she was finally lost to laughter.

Jaheira just shook her head, unable to help a smile even as she raised a hand and called out a greeting to the last of their company, Anomen appearing at the end of the street.

'Hello Anomen,' said Aerie as he finally reached them, those about her echoing the elf.

'Good afternoon.' Anomen glanced briefly to the girl next to him who was still sobbing into her hands. Jaheira sighed.

'Do not ask, Anomen. So was everything at your estate finalised?'

'Yes, thank you, my lady. My house is now closed up and my servants settled elsewhere. I returned to the Order afterwards and Sir Harn informed me there is to be a gathering tonight- we are welcome to attend.'

'Well, well, Aerie,' teased Haer'Dalis, 'your company is in much demand this evening.'

Anomen turned to the elf. 'You have a previous engagement, my lady?'

'Yes, at the circus, but not until much later on –I can't speak for anyone else, but _I_ would still like to come to the Order's gathering.'

Haer'Dalis grinned. 'Well, where Aerie goes, I will follow.'

'Good,' nodded Anomen, looking up to those sat on the walkway above, 'And the rest of you?'

A glance between them, before Jaheira answered for them all with a nod and a smile.

'I think you can count on our attendance.'

Anomen smiled as well, turning to enter the inn. 'Well, that is settled then.'

'Wait,' cried Aerie, a touch embarrassed as all eyes turned to her though she swallowed her awkwardness to continue, 'you- you haven't asked Fritha.'

The collective gaze shifted instantly, an anticipation of knowing smiles, but the girl in question just laughed.

'Of course not; he already knows I will come.'

And Anomen held the door open for her as Fritha entered the inn.


	79. Moonshine

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. Nor do I own Beer Barrel Polka by Lew Brown and Wladimir Timm.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Moonshine**

Haer'Dalis stretched upon the soft quilt, feeling very contented with the world as he watched Aerie's shadow play upon the ceiling, the elf flitting about the room getting ready for the evening's celebrations. She was at the end of the bed now, rooting in her pack, dressed in only in her fine white slip, her hair still pinned haphazardly out of the way from when she had taken her bath and seemingly unconcerned by the scars at her shoulders she would have once gone to any lengths to hide.

'I'm so glad I had my yellow dress cleaned –are you changing as well?'

'No, this sparrow is comfortable in his current plumage.'

Aerie paused in brushing the creases from her robes to send him a pointed look. 'I always liked your blue tunic –and I know for a fact it's clean.'

But the tiefling would not be persuaded, however delicately.

'Truly, Aerie dear? I shall bear that in mind. But as for tonight, I am happy as I am- we bards make our own occasions.'

'Oh, do you now?' she laughed as she pulled the yellow gown over her head and straightened out the skirts to sit at her dresser and make a start on her hair.

Haer'Dalis just smiled. Things were so different now. _Aerie_ was different and yet the same, so confident in herself, so sure of what she wanted and how she intended to pursue it, and their reunion was so much better than he had ever imagined it could have been, the bard each day finding new ways to delight in her. She had shown him the magic she had been studying in his absence: a complicated branch of rune magic quite alien to his own more impulse based abilities, her face aglow as she had explained the possibilities for it and the insights the old witch, Yundra, had offered when Aerie had shared the fruits of her studies.

But perhaps the greatest indicator of the change that had come to their relationship was what she had asked him of his time away from their company: namely, nothing. He had told her on that first day of his stay in Baldur's Gate and she had been content enough with that, the elf unconcerned with what he had done there and who he had met, and for once it had been _he_ who had been pressing for information, asking her what she had done and telling her of his experiences of the Gate, keen to lessen any breach this time apart may have placed between them. And for the first time in his life, he could see a future for them and for the simple fact they no longer needed each other; two independent creatures free and happy in their own lives and paired merely for the sole reason they each both desired to be together.

If all went well, Fritha and her Imoen would soon be reunited and he and Aerie would be free to do as they pleased. The call of Sigil was echoing in his blood once more, and this time he would not be returning alone.

At the dresser, Aerie had finished combing out her hair, the reflection of her face sending him a smile as she moved to re-pin the swathes of golden tresses.

'I think I will wear my hair up tonight.'

'Good, too few get to appreciate the fairness of your neck.'

A thudding on the door cut off any further compliments though, Fritha's voice quite audible through the wood.

'Hurry up, you two - stop kissing and come downstairs.'

Aerie was laughing in to her jar of pomade, Haer'Dalis watching her warm amusement with a smile.

'Ah, the merry little raven; I still find it difficult to believe she has paired herself with our dour knightling.' He gave a pained sigh, 'Such an ill-suited match.'

But Aerie was shaking her head, putting on her earrings as she countered mildly, 'I don't think so. You did not see what he was like; you weren't here-' Her reflection frowned, 'Oh, I did not mean-'

'I know you did not,' said Haer'Dalis, forestalling her regret, 'And you are correct, I was not here. I missed much of what happened.'

Aerie smiled, rising from her chair to sink onto the bed next to him, her eyes soft as she leaned in. 'But you are back now, and that is all that matters.'

Haer'Dalis would have agreed with her, but he suddenly found his lips quite otherwise occupied.

xxx

The common room was busy, tables surrounded by lively knots of mercenaries, merchants and others who had their families in those they travelled with, the maids pausing here and there to share a drink and a tale with their patrons. Valygar let the bright din hang about him unheeded, he and Anomen drinking in companionable silence as they waited on the others, Jaheira and Minsc complementing each other in tunics of rust and green respectively, the pair at the bar talking to Hendak, the aged gladiator looking more animated than usual as he nodded and laughed at some comment of the druid's.

Valygar turned back to his drink. The street beyond the windows next to him was dark and much busier than it would have usually been once the sun had set, people hurrying past on their way to friends' homes or taverns. This was the longest he had spent in the city for a while and the first Feast of the Moon he had spent in Athkatla since his parents had died. He did not usually celebrate the day, finding no pride in reliving the cursed follies of his ancestors, but it was better to be there with this company, however new, than clattering about his estate on his own, his few servants given leave to return home to their own families.

He recalled visiting the house just the previous day, stood in the kitchens, the young cook Mab before him, flushed and defiant as she had almost insisted upon staying there to keep him company, determined he was not to be alone. But he had told her he already had plans about city and in the end she had finally relent to go home and visit her sister. Valygar knew she favoured him, had known ever since she had joined his family's service as a scullery maid so many years before. She was a nice girl and he was not of the beliefs that the nobility and common citizens should "keep to their own", but he had made his decision on this a while ago now, and her hopes were not something to be encouraged. It had been different when Suna had lived. They had shared a mutual understanding that there were some duties which took precedent over their hearts and the oath to end Lavok had still been hanging over his family. But now she was gone and so was the necromancer, and a chance to end the Corthala curse once and for all was too great an opportunity to pass up. He owed it to all those who had been hurt by his family's corruption over the centuries and he would not fail them.

Valygar raised his cup for the last dregs of ale and then thought better of it. He wished his thoughts had not returned to Suna so soon; it felt as though he was dwelling on her. He had already indulged himself that afternoon out in the forests, knelt beneath the trees for over an hour just thinking on her and his mother and father and the many other good people who it seemed magic had stolen from him. There was no god to hear his prayers even if he had the inclination to make them, though he wished in that moment he had had Suna's faith, if only so he could feel closer to her. She had worshiped Mielikki and quite ardently too, though she had never once pressed or even questioned his own beliefs, claiming everyone had to follow their own path in that mild calm way of hers which was always sure to stir his love for her.

'Are we still waiting on the others?' came a voice at his side, and Valygar glanced up to see Jaheira and Minsc, Hendak now busy serving the patrons who were gathering at the bar. 'Ah, and here is one of our stragglers now,' the druid continued and Valygar glanced back to follow her gaze to the stairs Fritha had just tripped down.

She was not wearing the gown she had worn to Deril's, but she looked pretty nevertheless, dressed in a dark red tunic, a pattern of golden oak leaves embroidered about the neck and a wide amber sash tied about her waist, her belts and boots freshly polished and complementing her hair, which was down and falling about her in shining copper waves.

The man sat opposite him was clearly trying to wrestle his smile back from becoming a grin, Anomen murmuring some compliment as she drew to his side, Fritha quite unflustered as she smiled and thanked him.

'Oh, and here are the last of us,' the girl trilled as Aerie and Haer'Dalis appeared on the stairs, Fritha turning back to the table with a smile. 'Well, shall we be off then?'

xxx

Jaheira's stride faltered as two well-wrapped up children fled across her path to crouch in the shadows of the wall next to her and lay in wait to leap out on their friends. Though dark, it was still early enough for the local children to be about and the streets were busy, full of noise and laughter from them and their parents both, the occasional rattle of firecrackers making everyone jump. The sound was thought to scare away evil spirits, though it only seemed to heighten the general air of revelry.

Minsc and Valygar were walking just ahead of her, the Rashemi looking quite enthralled by all the commotion, while behind, Fritha was talking animatedly to Anomen, Haer'Dalis and Aerie arm in arm and, though she never would have admitted as much, Jaheira could not help but feel a pang of loneliness. She would have never really celebrated that day outside of the usual prayers for the family she had never known and the druids who had raised her, but the Moon Feast was considered a rest day in many places and she would have spent it with Khalid, just taking the opportunity to spend some time with each other, be they out on some task for the Harpers or just safely ensconced within some tavern or stronghold, and it would have been nice.

Jaheira started as an arm suddenly encircled her elbow, the druid whipping round to find Fritha falling into step with her, a glowing smile on her pale pretty face.

'So, you're looking very dressed up. I do like your tunic; is it new?'

'No… I just rarely have occasion to wear it,' Jaheira managed after a moment, much more herself as she added, 'Well, this is unexpected; would you not rather be at someone _else's_ arm?'

She looked pointedly back to the knight who was now in conversation with the tiefling, Jaheira at least expecting the girl to blush at her insinuation, though Fritha just shrugged.

'He seems happy enough talking to Haer'Dalis and I have not seen you all day –how was your walk out?'

'Cathartic; my soul feels lighter, and…' Jaheira trailed off, unable to help a frown as the dull ache within her chest gave a throb of acknowledgment. Fritha smiled gently.

'And perhaps a little empty? I'm the same after a good cry, it's like all the worry has leaked out and just left a hole. But it passes. To be filled with joy -or other worries, depending what is to hand.'

'And how merrily you accept it!' the druid laughed.

'What else can be done? I was thinking the same this afternoon as I made my prayers for Gorion; life is such a fragile thing and the Fates are not known for their gentle touch. I suppose we must just walk the path laid for us and find our joys where we can –even if we know they are not to last.'

'Are you trying to wring more tears from me?'

'No,' Fritha cried, 'to cheer you! You may feel sorrow for those that have been lost, but you can still cherish what you had.'

'That you can,' the woman sighed, 'and when did you become so wise?'

Fritha laughed ruefully. 'It was the world's doing and quite against my will.'

'You always were a stubborn one, though I see your will has relented on other matters lately –what is between you and Anomen now?'

But Fritha merely shrugged again.

'I don't know; I've decided not to think about it and just take things as they come.'

Jaheira raised an eyebrow. 'You seem remarkably at ease with the thing.'

'Why shouldn't I be? I was at ease with him before he told me of his regard and he said he liked me for long before that –the only thing that is different is that I know of it now.'

The druid sent her a measured look. 'I see, and how much of this apparent nonchalance is genuine and how much is mere bravado?'

'Ooo, about half and half,' Fritha laughed, turning to look behind them once more, still smiling though there was a sadness to it now. 'Poor fool; why couldn't he have liked Aerie or Nalia? Everything would have been so much easier for him.'

The knight glanced up to catch them watching and was suddenly grinning like a loon.

'I think he seems happy enough,' said Jaheira dryly. Fritha laughed again and squeezed her arm.

The streets grew quieter as they left the slums, evensong long ended in the temple district, the myriad of stained glass windows depicting the saints and miracles of every faith dappling the dark paths and canals with colour as they made their way south to the Order's compound.

As one they trooped into the courtyard, Harn stood, not before the Great Hall, but at the doorway of the large building to their left which Fritha knew housed the squires' dormitories, the knight welcoming them heartily inside and showing them through to an office where the shy Squire Marc was waiting to take their coats. Fritha and Jaheira lingered there, helping Marc get some semblance of order to the mess of cloaks and coats that were piled on the desk and chairs, the boy politely answering Fritha's questions about what he had been up to since they had last met, seemingly less reticent now he was no longer before a crowd.

At last, Marc seemed satisfied with the makeshift cloakroom and he led them along a wide stone corridor and into a hall that likely served as the refectory, the two long tables stacked to one side to make room for the scatting of smaller tables and chairs, the majority grouped about the two fireplaces that were roaring merrily at either end. Knots of people were already gathered about the room, about two dozen at first glance, the company mostly men though Fritha noticed a few other ladies were present.

As for her own companions, Minsc and Valygar were already in conversation with an older knight Fritha did not recognise and one she most assuredly did, Cadril looking pale and handsome in a fine grey doublet. Aerie and Haer'Dalis were not far from them, laughing with the radiant Irlana, while Anomen was speaking to one of the young squires who was moving about the room with a tray of cups. Fritha smiled, that room a field of shining faces, everyone sharing wine and talk -And then Marc shut the door behind them with a muted bang and everything stopped.

Fritha did not recognise many of the people about her, but they _all_ seemed to know who she was. She glanced to Jaheira, the older woman raising an eyebrow; it seemed that the Harpers's bounty notice, and certain aspects of Fritha's heritage revealed therein, had finally made it around the Order. Fritha glanced over to the others. They looked to have noticed it too; Haer'Dalis frowning in his bemusement while Anomen's was face already like thunder.

'Do you recall the Ducal Palace dinner?' muttered Jaheira. Fritha snorted and, for a moment, she was back in that grand bright hall, sat at the end of that long table and trying to concentrate on her carrot soup as the whole room seemed content to stare at the top of her head, the air about her buzzing with rumours.

Fritha shrugged imperceptibly; the soup had still tasted nice.

'Fritha,' greeted Irlana in her high melodious tones, the young woman hurrying over to welcome her in, a well-dressed gnome but a pace behind her, a cup in each hand, 'and the Lady Jaheira too, is it not? Welcome, both of you. This, as you know, is my friend, Cyrando.'

'Well met, young lady, and to you also madam,' Cyrando greeted, handing her and Jaheira the wine cups he held.

'I was so pleased when Sir Harn said you would be coming, Fritha,' continued Irlana brightly, 'We were just about to start up a few rounds of ombre; will you join us?'

'You go,' Fritha offered to the woman next to her, 'I should speak to Anomen.'

Jaheira followed her eye to the still scowling knight and nodded once, allowing Irlana to lead the way, Fritha happy not to notice the whispered exchanges and furtive glances as she crossed the room with a smile.

'Hello, Anomen, why so displeased?'

Anomen was still frowning, though she was glad to see his look soften slightly as he turned to her. 'Do not pretend you have not noticed it, Fritha.'

The girl shrugged mildly. 'Look at it this way -_you're_ the one who went on a murderous rampage just the other day; perhaps they're all gossiping about you.'

But Anomen was not inclined to see the funny side, it seemed. Fritha sighed, feeling bad for him.

'Oh, Anomen, don't take it to heart; it's to be expected. They likely know I'm a Bhaal- er, one of the Children now.'

'It should not make a difference!'

'Well, it doesn't to me,' Fritha soothed, 'Does it to you?'

'You know it never has!'

'Well, if I'm not concerned, and you are not concerned, then does what anyone else thinks really matter?'

But it did clearly for the knight, Anomen sending one last poisonous glare at those few who were still imprudent enough to be looking her way, before stalking off into the back of the hall to speak to Harn. Fritha sighed again, wondering if she was not going to end up regretting her decision to allow the man closer before she had even really begun to try. Anomen needed to get used to things like this and quickly. Being the child of a dark god was not all about people out for your blood, there was a lot of more subtle unpleasantness, too, attitudes and prejudices that, for the most part, you merely had to accept.

Fritha shot a frustrated look to the ceiling. All she asked was one day where she did not have to argue or soothe or kill someone.

'I have heard They respond better to worship than to withering looks, my lady,' came a voice behind her, polite and kindly and warm with a smile and, despite her current troubles, Fritha whirled with a swelling sense of delight as she realised just to whom it belonged.

'Sir Keldorn!' she cried, the old paladin stepping forward, taking her free hand as they made their obeisance.

'My Lady Fritha, you are keeping well, I hope?'

'No!' she laughed, 'But what of you? I haven't seen you about here for a while, not even at Anomen's inauguration.'

The old paladin dipped his head in a slow nod, something about his face darkening.

'No, I have been spending more time at home of late. It was brought to my attention that I have been neglectful of my family over the years. It came down to one choice, between my duties as a follower of Torm and my duties as a husband and father.' He smiled gently, 'I believe I have made the right decision. But speaking of Sir Anomen, I hear tell that he has managed to earn more than just his knighthood in your company.'

Fritha felt herself colour and took a gulp of wine to compensate, nearly choking in the process. Keldorn smiled kindly.

'There is no need to be discomfited, my lady. I understand that to most people he can seem brash and callow, but he is young and there is much good in him. I am glad, Fritha, but not entirely surprised, that you were the one to see it.'

Fritha mumbled uncomfortably into her cup. Not only was she extremely embarrassed, she now felt awful as well, because a small part of her thought 'most people' might have a bit of a point.

'But why are you here, Keldorn?' she continued with a deft change of subject, 'I would have thought you would be spending the evening with your family.'

'Indeed, and I will be. But I promised my wife I would look in on my squire, Stephan.' Keldorn gestured to the corner where a group of young boys were knelt playing cards and Fritha recognised young Marc among them, the boy laughing and teasing his fellows as he won the hand. 'Stephan has no family close by, coming from Cormyr as he does. I invited him to the Firecam household to share in our celebrations, but he said he would not intrude –think he is better off here with his friends.' Keldorn smiled, turning his attention back to the room as Irlana arrived at their side.

'Ah, hello, Sir Keldorn, perhaps you and Fritha would like to come sit with us; we had too many for cards in the end, so another group of us are about to share stories of our ancestors.'

Keldorn politely refused her offer, stating he would not be remaining much longer himself and the girls excused themselves from his company, Irlana leading her over to where a group of chairs were set about one of the large fireplaces, Aerie already sat with Cyrando and a few of the younger knights who looked to be of a comparable age to her, the men standing as she and Irlana approached.

'Now, who is to go first?' came Irlana, when all were once more seated. Cyrando instantly turned his wide friendly smile on Fritha.

'Come, lady, you must have a story or two of your ancestors to share with us.'

Fritha shot Aerie a look, an eyebrow quirked and the elf had to turn quickly, hiding her snort in her cup as Fritha continued, those squires gathered about her looking at the same time, nervous and wholly rapt.

'A story of my father? I am afraid Gorion was a quiet man and did not speak much of his life before I came to know him. Perhaps another would be able to give you a tale.'

'Very well, then,' nodded Cyrando just as amiably, turning to the young man opposite, 'perhaps you would oblige us, Sir Nesam?'

xxx

'I see you are still sulking over here,' said Jaheira to the broad-shouldered back before her, the shadow of the pillar they were stood in not masking his indignant look as Anomen whipped round.

'I am _not_-!

'I understand, 'she cut in gently, 'It is… difficult when your own do not accept those close to you. But do not let a uncertain beginning colour the whole evening. See, they have warmed to her, as they should. This could have all been much worse.'

Anomen followed her nod to where Fritha was still sat with Aerie and a few of the younger knights, the company laughing as the swarthy Sir Nesam entertained them with some tale.

'Yes… Perhaps, I should join them.'

And Jaheira watched as he left the dark corner, sensing the presence at her back even as the familiar voice rumbled, 'Keeping the peace?'

Jaheira sent Valygar a weary smile. 'It seems to be all I do some days.'

Anomen shook himself, determined to shake off his annoyance as he reached the group, Fritha glancing up with a smile as he arrived behind her chair.

'Ah, Anomen,' greeted Nesam, 'you have come to join us. Good; we were just trying to cheer Allid here with a few tales of woe.'

And Allid did not look too pleased about it either, the pale man rather pink in the cheeks as he frowned into his cup.

'Tales of woe? Would that not have the contrary effect?'

'No, indeed, for if one cannot solve a problem, it is surely the next best thing to sympathise with it. Allid has recently lost the favour of his lady-'

'_Nesam!' _

'And we were hoping some tales of similar heartbreak would console him, but none here seem able to oblige us. Perhaps you have a story of love lost to cheer us with?'

'Well, ah, not really,' Anomen muttered, not sure he would share it even if he had. Nesam sighed deeply.

'Oh, poor Allid, it looks as though you will have to suffer alone.'

Allid just rolled his eyes and took another mouthful of wine.

'Well,' began Fritha hesitantly. Anomen felt his attention jerk to her. 'Well, I may have a tale… I will tell it if it will bring you some measure of ease.'

But Nesam did not even wait for his friend's reply, dark eyes shining as he leaned forward to press eagerly 'Go on, lady.'

Anomen felt his stomach stir with unease, not sure he wanted to hear this though unable to draw himself away and he watched as Fritha lowered her gaze, her eyes distant as she stared into the fire.

'This all happened, oh, long ago now, back in Candlekeep where I was brought up. It was the summer, my fourteenth summer, in fact. I remember the day so clearly, I was out in the gardens when it happened. The bees humming were in the lavender and the air was warm with the scent of flowers and hay from the barn, when this peace was broken by the clang of the gates. I turned in time to see it rattle from the darkness of the gatehouse, the sunlight falling upon the horse-drawn wagon that supplied the Keep with parchment, food and other necessities. The merchant was sat upon the bench with his dark-haired son and I could feel that first blooming swell of my heart as my eyes fell upon… the most beautiful sunhat I had _ever_ seen.'

Nesam snorted into his wine cup, the two men either side of him laughing raucously, Aerie trying to stop giggling long enough to scold, 'Fritha!' As for Allid, he was hardly as diverted as his friends, though he could not hide his smile as Fritha continued wistfully.

'Oh, it was so lovely. All wide straw brim with a huge yellow sash about the crown; how my heart _longed_ for it. Well, I begged Gorion to lend me the coin to buy it, promised him I would spend all my free time in chores and scribing for the rest of the year -I would have promised him the sun and moon if he would have but presented me with that hat! But, he did not understand; said I was young, that I did not need a hat yet and when I was a bit older I would realise, too, that what he said was for the best. I tried to find another way, but what could I do? I would go down to the merchant's wagon each day to gaze upon it and try to imagine some way that I could but make it mine; the idea that come tenth-day and that hat would leave my life forever was unbearable. But tenth-day came and leave it did. Beth, the cook, tried her best to console me, told me there would be other hats, but I could not hear of it; my heart was broken.'

'Oh, dear,' came a smooth voice that was sure to make his hackles rise, Anomen's good humour evaporated in an instant as Cadril joined their company, 'who has been breaking poor Fritha's heart? Why, Anomen, I never realised you had it in you.'

'Allid has lost the favour of his lady,' supplied Nesam promptly, much to his friend's chagrin.

'Nesam! Must you tell the _whole_ of Athkatla?'

'Come now, Allid,' appeased Cadril, giving the man's shoulder a commiserating slap, 'there is no shame in it. Do you plan to try and win her back?'

'I already did but she is adamant. She says we hardly see each other as it is, for she is at school in Waterdeep for half the year and I am away with my knight.'

'Oh, it is a problem for those who have chosen this life. But some ladies seem to feel the joys outweigh the detriments.'

He glanced pointedly to Fritha, clearly expecting her input here, the girl growing steadily pinker as she fumbled for an answer. 'I, well, I-'

'Oh dear,' rumbled Harn, the old knight appearing behind Aerie's chair, Irlana at his side, 'what has made the Lady Fritha so red? I hope you are not teasing her, young Cadril.'

'No, indeed, sir, we were just speaking of Allid's lost lady.'

Allid dropped his head into his hands with a groan, Irlana's pretty face downcast in her compassion.

'Oh, Allid, I had heard of your misfortune. I understand it is difficult, but I am sure the lady would not have come to the decision lightly and not without great pain. Perhaps when she has finished her schooling and you have been knighted you may meet again and find your feelings for each other are quite unchanged for this parting.'

Fritha beamed. For all her own jests, it had been Irlana's kind words that had been the real help here, Allid smiling properly for the first time all evening. Nesam gave his friend's back a friendly slap.

'There you go, Allid, take heart. Now how about a dance to put the rest of us in good spirits?'

'Can anyone play?' asked Irlana.

Cadril shrugged. 'I've my viola and doesn't Squire Marc have a lute?'

'Indeed, he does!' confirmed Harn proudly, turning to call, 'Marc, come here please.'

Fritha watched the boy glance up from his cards and, a moment later, he on his feet and trotting obediently over to them, eyes wary under the sandy thatch of hair.

'Yes, my lord?'

'Marc, go fetch your lute; there is to be dancing.'

The boy paled instantly. 'Ah, sir, I-I really do not think I can-'

'Nonsense, m'boy,' cut in Harm, giving his shoulder a firm and, what he seemed to consider heartening slap, 'you play well enough. Now go and fetch it that we may begin.'

Fritha felt her eyes follow the boy as he walked dejectedly to the back of the hall and disappeared into the stairwell, her own stomach tight in sympathy. She was sure he'd be fine once he got started…

The voice in her head snorted. _Coward!_

'Fritha, where are you-?' Anomen began and she suddenly noticed she was stood, as well.

'Another drink,' she explained, downing an almost full cup and coughing as she set it on the table next to him, her stomach feeling no less tense for the sudden weight in wine sloshing about within. Anomen caught her hand, his eyes downcast.

'I will not ask you to dance if you do not wish it,' he murmured and Fritha felt her insides groan.

'Anomen_… _it's not that, I promise,' she pleaded, gently easing her hand from his, 'I'll just be a moment.'

The stairs led, as she had expected, up to the dormitories and a few exploratory wrong-turns finally found her in what she assumed were the younger squires' quarters, a long plain room, two rows of beds along each wall, a stout chest at the end of each. The lamps were unlit, though moonlight poured in from the tall windows, staining the world an inky blue. Marc's bunk was only a few from the door, the boy knelt before his bed, the case lain upon it and thrown open. Inside, she could see a short-necked lute similar to the one she had first trained on in Candlekeep, and she felt her stomach drop as the boy turned around and she noticed he'd been crying.

'Hello Marc.'

'Oh, h-hello, my lady,' he stammered, his voice falsely bright as he rose and hastily wiped his cheeks, 'are you lost?'

'No… is that your lute?'

He nodded forlornly, all pretence gone as he returned his gaze to the instrument.

'It was my father's. He could play very well. I- I was given it when he died. I _can_ play!' he added defiantly, as she would think him a liar, or worse, that his knight was. 'I play for Sir Harn all the time, but… it is just when I know other people are there, it is as though my fingers don't know where to go anymore.' He dropped his head, his voice a miserable whisper, 'Harn will be so ashamed of me.'

Fritha sighed, sinking onto the bed next to his and he moved to join her.

'It's probably because you're too focused, trying too hard. Sometimes thinking cuts the link between your mind and your fingers; you have to feel the music.'

Marc glanced to her. 'You play, my lady? Which instrument?'

Fritha swallowed, the two sides of herself screaming at each other so, she could barely hear her reply.

'A long-necked lute, though I first learnt on one of those…'

They both turned back to the bed opposite, the strings gleaming like spun silver in the moonlight.

'My lady,' he breathed, seemingly scared she would disappear at any moment, 'will you…?'

'Are you sure you want me too? It might be better for you to get it over with and- oh hush,' Fritha soothed as he began to cry again and it struck her how young he was, barely ten winters; she was sure Harn meant well, but why put such pressure on the boy? And who was _she_ to be telling him it would be better to get it over and done with? She was over twice his age and she could still count the number of people she'd played for on one hand! Though it seemed _that_ would soon be about to change…

Fritha sighed, gently rubbing the boy's back, the knot in her stomach tightening.

'Marc, we will do anything you wish.'

xxx

'Oh dear, did I perhaps say something to upset your lady before, Anomen? She quit our company most hastily just as soon as the dancing was mentioned.'

Anomen returned Cadril's look of false concern with a cool frown.

'Do not trouble yourself, Cadril, Fritha is fine.'

'I am glad to hear it. I hope then to see you and she take to the floor upon Squire Marc's return –I had heard the lady greatly favours dancing.'

Anomen coloured. 'I-ah-'

'Well, I cannot stay here to talk,' Cadril cut in; he'd had his fun, 'I must fetch my own instrument.'

Anomen watched him leave with narrowed eyes; how he _hated_ the man.

Fritha reappeared a few moments later, her hand clutching a cup of wine so tightly her knuckles were white, though she seemed relaxed enough as she returned to her seat, chatting brightly with Aerie who had already been asked to dance by Nesam. Anomen watched the pair with a frown as others jostled about him. It seemed the whole room was on its feet, the news there was to be dancing spreading quickly and many couples had gathered at their end of the hall in anticipation, the centre of the long hall already clear and just awaiting the dozen pairs of lively feet. Cadril was back now, stood just a across the hall, his viola lain on the table next to him as he checked the tension in his bow, though he still spared the time to send Anomen a smirk.

'I have my lute, milord.'

Anomen started from his brooding to see Marc before him, nervous but smiling as he showed his knight the instrument. Harn nodded and Anomen could not be sure, but he could have sworn he saw the slightest glance pass between her and the boy as Fritha clapped her hands together and cried audibly, 'A lute, how wonderful!'

'Do you play, my lady?' Marc asked, all innocence, the girl dipping her face shyly as she demurred, 'Oh, not for a long while now.'

Harn seemingly needed no further provocation though, sweeping in and beaming generously.

'You must play for us, lady, I insist -Marc.'

The boy stepped forward meekly and Anomen watched as their friends exchanged dark looks, unable to suppress their collective astonishment as Fritha did not make her customary and _adamant_ refusals, but mildly took the instrument he offered.

'I gave you fair warning,' she laughed, though her smile seemed a _little_ tight as she rose to take her place on the chair next to Cadril and check the tuning.

Marc had shuffled back to stand with his friends out of the way, looking positively faint with relief, and it suddenly struck Anomen that being a hero wasn't just about saving cities and averting wars; sometimes it was a very small thing that no one else would notice, but that someone would remember for the rest of their life.

At last, Fritha glanced up from the instrument and Anomen caught her eye, the girl sending him a smile, albeit a nervous one, as she struck her first tentative chord.

'A bransle, anyone?'

The couples took their places and soon that long hall was echoing with a sprightly melody, the air thrumming with the beat of two score feet all falling in unison as they travelled the complex patterns of the dance. It was strange, that mundane hall where he had once taken his meals suddenly transformed by the two rows of dancers, their brightly-coloured clothing softened by the lamplight as they all moved as one. Aerie was easily spotted, her golden head weaving in amongst the others as she tripped through the steps with Sir Nesam, Haer'Dalis sending her a smile as he danced similarly with Irlana, Jaheira still stood pointedly on the edge beside Valygar and Minsc, though she had been asked to the floor more than once.

Anomen was hardly paying much attention to them though, his gaze on Fritha as she played, the man unable to stop smiling as he watched her fingers fly across the frets, her eyes closed and face contorting with the occasional wince as she no doubt berated herself for some missed beat or flat note, though he could never hear the error. The dancing proved more popular than there was space to house, the reduced numbers of ladies meaning partners were in short supply too, and the pair played six rounds together, allowing all who wanted one a chance on the floor, before they stopped for a break.

Fritha had gone straight to the back of the hall, presumable to top up her cup, Jaheira already at her side and pressing for an explanation as Anomen moved to join them.

'What on _Toril_ was all that about?'

'Sorry?' Fritha replied innocently, the woman's wholly incredulous snort prompting her to quickly hiss, 'Well, I could hardly refuse, could I? I really don't know why you're making such a fuss.'

Jaheira frowned, unconvinced, though clearly unwilling to pursue it further whilst in company, the woman marching back to rejoin Valygar and Minsc.

'Fritha?'

The girl started, looking relieved when she turned to find it was him. 'Oh, hello Anomen, did you dance?'

He ignored her question though, stepping closer to continue in an undertone, 'I noticed what you did… for Marc…'

She looked for a moment as though she would deny it, when a smile lit her face, the girl laughing giddily into her sleeve as she leaned in conspiratorially.

'Oh gods, Anomen, I thought I was going to be _sick_! That first song,' she shook her head, 'my heart was trembling like a frightened bird. If Cadril hadn't been there to keep time, I don't know what I would have done.'

'You play very well,' he said with sincerity, but she shrugged the compliment away.

'No, no -not this evening, anyway. Too much wine beforehand –see, I'm on milk now,' she added, showing him the contents of her cup, 'and Marc's lute has more strings than I'm used to –it's been years since I've played on a ten course. But for all that, I was really starting to enjoy myself once I was over my nerves. I suppose I shouldn't be such a coward; I'll have no excuse not to play in future now.'

She laughed again, Cadril calling across to them.

'Ready for another round, m'lady?'

The girl beamed and excused herself to settle next to him, the dancers reassembling as the music resumed once more.

They must have played for another hour or so, if the time for their breaks was included, the last dance ending with much applause for their two musicians. Cadril had immediately packed his viola away. but Fritha had other plans, it seemed, and Anomen did not really see her for the rest of the evening; something Cadril had been quick to point out, though Anomen did not care. What more joy could there be? Him sat about the fire with the others swapping tales, while a mere glance away would find Fritha where she had been since they had finished playing, the girl sat in a quiet corner with Marc and showing him various positions and tunings, adjusting his fingers now and then as she murmured encouragements. And what Cadril thought about _anything_ suddenly no longer mattered.

The hour was late now, the hall looking much larger than before now half the guests had retired for the evening. Anomen was leant in the shadow of one of the stout pillars enjoying a moment of quiet before he returned to the others. Everything had changed over a such a short space of time and he felt if he did not take a moment now and then to just stand and enjoy it, the feeling would pass him by. The fireplace at the far end of the hall had been allowed to burn down, though Nesam was busy adding more wood to the other, those who were clearly in the mind to make a night of it, pulling their chairs closer.

'So you have finally won the lady.'

Anomen sighed inwardly, straightening to turn and find Cadril wearing his familiar smirk.

'I must say though,' the knight continued with that same insincere concern, 'she seems rather reticent of the thing- you have been courting long?'

Anomen shrugged. 'No, not particularly.'

'Ah, I see. That must explain it then. I _am_ surprised though; you seemed wholly indifferent to the lady when we last met. Still, what is it the bards say? _Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows._ But I suppose a life on the road is fraught with hardships which may bring together those who would otherwise find little pleasing in each other.'

Anomen snorted, almost amused by the poorly veiled attempts to rile him. _In each other_ –ha! The man was clearly finding it difficult to understand what Fritha saw pleasing in _him!_ Anomen smiled into his cup; well, _he_ certainly could not tell the man.

'I surely could not comment, Cadril.'

The man nodded airily. 'Indeed. Fritha seemed reluctant to elaborate too –I tried to ask her of it, but you know young ladies, so shy of baring their hearts.'

'Perhaps they find they have to be; some men are not so gentle with them.'

'Anomen, here you are; I was looking for you.'

He glanced up, Fritha before him, her cloak about her shoulders.

'You are leaving?'

The girl nodded. 'Yes, if you don't mind?'

'No, no, of course not, I shall escort you back.'

Fritha shook her head with a smile. 'There is no need, Anomen, the others are coming as well. Aerie wants to go to the circus and I think Jaheira just wants to go to bed.'

Anomen wondered if there was a hint here he should be catching.

'Oh, perhaps, I should-'

'Anomen, stay here, if you wish. I was not telling you so you would feel you had to join us.'

Anomen nodded once, smiling through his discomfort, well aware that their parting had an audience. 'Well, I will see you later then, Fritha.'

'Yes,' she faltered, just as awkward, 'Well, enjoy the rest of your evening, won't you?'

'Oh, I shall.'

'Well, indeed…' Fritha glanced briefly to Cadril's prying form, seeming to decide something and she suddenly closed the gap between them, a hand upon his arm for balance as she leaned up to his ear to murmur, tender and still quite audible, 'And do try not to make too much noise when you come in, my love.'

A shy little smile, all lowered gaze and knowing lips, and she was gone, tripping lightly over to where the others had gathered before the doors. Next to him, Cadril's brow was low with the disgruntled frown that Anomen himself was more than used to wearing in his company. He grinned. Gods, she was a cunning one! His wonderful, wicked Fritha.

xxx

Outside, the air was cold enough to take the wine from her blood, Jaheira pulling her cloak about her more tightly as they set off back to the slums, Valygar at her side as they followed the others, Aerie twittering on about some squire who had asked for her handkerchief as a favour he could carry into battle, Fritha already laughing loudly.

'I can't see anyone being inspired by the contents of my handkerchief.'

'Fritha!'

'Well, did you give it to him?' the girl questioned. Aerie blushed slightly and shook her head.

'It wouldn't have been appropriate.'

Haer'Dalis sent her a disappointed frown. 'Oh, Aerie, how could you deny him? Just think of how romantic it would have been: him far from home, facing untold danger for the good of these lands, yet able to take comfort in his memories of the beautiful maid he once met whenever he wiped his nose.'

'Haer'Dalis!'

'Well, my birds,' the tiefling continued, still chuckling to himself as they drew to a halt at a crossroads just south of the slums, 'I feel a parting of ways is in the air. Who is coming to the circus?'

Minsc, Fritha, Haer'Dalis and Aerie apparently; the group taking the street east and leaving Jaheira and Valygar to return to the Coronet in companionable silence.

The tavern was quiet now, a few patrons hunched low over their drinks, the only ones still in the common room and none of them looked like they planned to go anywhere soon. The maids had been allowed to return home to their families and only Hendak was serving, the dim lamps hung behind the bar catching on a head of short bristly hair that was more silver than blonde, the man looking tired and worn even for his impressive physique, though his face seemed to regain some life as he noticed them enter.

'Friends, I did not expect to see any of you before the dawn –would you have cup with me to celebrate the day?'

Valygar glanced to her in question and Jaheira shrugged; she was not so tired that she could not spare the time and Hendak left the bar, the three taking seats about the nearest fireplace. They drank a round together, just talking of the tavern and their plans for the next few tenday before Valygar excused himself and headed up to bed. Jaheira eyed the dregs of ale that rested in the bottom of her cup, tired but not enough so to move from the warmth of the fireside and take herself up to that cold empty room.

'Here,' said Hendak, perhaps sensing she was not ready to leave and rising stiffly, the man crossing to the bar and reaching over it to return with a large bottle of amber liquid and two small glasses.

'To the dead,' he toasted as he poured them out and passed her a glass, 'may they rest in peace and leave us to find our own.'

The spirits were sweet with a sharp aftertaste of oranges, the liquid warming her throat as she swallowed.

'So strange,' Hendak continued, as he refilled their glasses, 'a feastday where one thinks of those past. We do not celebrate this day where I am from –and I am pleased for it; I do not like to think of what family of mine are left saying prayers for me. Better they forget.'

'Do you never consider returning to your homeland?' asked Jaheira, taking a sip of the sweet spirits.

Hendak shrugged. 'To what? My parents were of an age when I was captured; they will be dead by now. And my two brothers will have moved on with their lives, found wives and have families of their own.' He grimly sipped at his glass, 'I am dead to that world.'

'And have you no prayers to make yourself?' Jaheira continued, the alcohol and her own embarrassment leaving her face hot as she suddenly realised the intimacy of such a question, though the man just shrugged.

'Prayers for the dead? Oh, yes, but more than could be made in one day.' He shook his head ruefully, perhaps reflecting on what his life had become, so far removed from what any man would have planned. 'So many dead. Each night they came to me, some terrified, others thirsty to prove themselves and each one I was forced to kill. It is a cruel thing, to make one man kill another. I considered sometimes to err, to allow myself to fall within the arena, but to what end? My victor would either die another day or rise to take my place. Hendak the Unbeatable. They used to say I had a charmed life -that I could have spat in the face of every man who said I did.' Hendak sighed, downing the rest of his glass and letting the sharp spirits rouse him from this melancholy. 'But you must forgive me, my bitterness is my own and I have much to be thankful for, too. I survived to take revenge and have my freedom now –it is more than many are given. And what of you, good lady? You have prayed for many this day?'

'A few. My parents, some friends… my husband.' Jaheira sank the contents of her glass, trying to dislodge the sudden lump in her throat. It all felt so unreal; just one year before she had spent the day with the man and now she was praying for his soul's peace. 'I'm sorry,' she mumbled, dipping her face against the few tears that had refused to be quelled and hating that she had to, 'his life was taken not long past; the wounds are still raw.'

'But you are still alive,' reminded Hendak quietly, dark eyes soft beneath the careworn brow. 'They stay with us always, the dead; why should we need a day to remember them? But we are the living and we must go on. You are a striking woman who brings much good to this world; your husband was very blessed.'

Jaheira smiled slightly, feeling tired and old, but nevertheless warmed by his words.

'We were both very blessed. Goodnight, Hendak.'

xxx

The cold awoke Anomen long before the dawn did. He had stayed so late at the Order, in the end it had made more sense for him to stay there than to make the way back to the inn and he had spent the night in the room he had been assigned upon his knighthood. But, his own room at the Order though he had, no one had been expecting him to use it and to say it was cold would have been a staggering understatement. No one had known to light the fire and he had seen little point in doing so last night, not the hour he had finally reached his bed, though he was regretting such a hasty dismissal this morning, Anomen huddled under his blankets, dreading the inevitable moment when he would have to venture out into the icy air.

It had been a pleasant evening, once he had let go of his anger and joined his fellows. He should not have lost his temper has he had -not because he did not think those who behaved so did not deserve it, but because he knew it did nothing save make things more difficult for Fritha. And though he did not agree with it, if all Fritha wanted was for those she knew and liked to accept her, then that should be enough for him, too.

Anomen gritted his teeth and finally summoned the courage to sit, throwing off the blankets and bearing a few moments stood by the plain wooden chair pulling on the frigid clothes he had been wearing the previous evening, before crossing to the washstand, the sound of singing outside drawing eyes to the small window next to him. A man and a woman, just specks on the paths far below him, who appeared to be continuing their revels as they made their way to the dawn service at temple of Lathander, the pair either still drunk or just in very good spirits as they weaved their way along the canal.

'_Oh there's music and there's dancing and there's lots of sweet romancing. When they play the polka, they all get in the swing._'

It was something he could easily see Fritha doing and the thought made him smile; had there ever been a time when he had dismissed her exuberance as idiocy? Now it was such a joy to hear her laugh. What a pity he had come to such a change of heart as the girl was finding less and less to laugh about. And suddenly it was so clear he could not help but grin as he turned back to his room, the dawn sun warm through the glass.

xxx

Jaheira let her hand rest lightly on the banister, enjoying the smooth flowing grain of the wood as she made her descent into the common room. Though the sun had barely risen, the days were much shorter now and it was a little later than she would usually leave her room. Not that she had slept late –she rarely did, but she had taken her time over her packing and prayers, enjoying the simple routine of it. Fritha has been right and Jaheira was feeling much better than she had the night before; the emptiness within her was slowly filling with the anticipation of being out of the city and raising the last of the coin for Imoen's rescue.

She rounded the corner of the stairwell and stepped down into the common room to find it unsurprisingly quiet, the revels of the previous evening keeping most of the patrons in their beds. Something that she suspected a few of her own company would have preferred as well, all but she and Fritha already at their usual table, a large round box in the centre that no one was paying much attention to it in light of Haer'Dalis's theatrics, more than one smile about the group as he wailed and groaned.

'Oh, Aerie, I think oblivion has come for this poor sparrow.'

'Oblivion, really!' the girl laughed, already moving to pour an extra cup as she noticed Jaheira's arrival, 'It's just a hangover.'

Jaheira nodded her thanks as she took her seat opposite, lifting the cup for that first scalding sip and hiding her smile behind it as she turned to the bard, the tiefling hunched forward, a pale hand clutched about a cup of his own.

'Really, Haer'Dalis, I did not think you suffered from such _vinous revels_.'

Haer'Dalis just made some noise between a whimper and a derisive snort, Aerie frowning as she explained briskly, 'Yes, well, there are Balor demons who would feel the effects of what Haer'Dalis drank last night.'

The bard groaned and dropped his head into his hands. 'Oh, Aerie, where is that compassion you are so blessed with?'

'Saved for someone who truly deserves it,' she scolded with another laugh, 'Now drink your tea and stop making a fuss.'

'Here,' said Jaheira, straightening from where she had been rooting in her bag to throw a small parchment envelope across the table at him, 'take that with it –it should help.'

Haer'Dalis looked overcome in his relief, the man emptying the dried herbs into his teacup with trembling hands.

'Oh, Sweet Ptarmigan, I will sing your praises to the very Heavens themselves!'

'Pray _don't_.'

'Indeed,' agreed Aerie, 'we had _quite_ enough singing last night. All the way from the Promenade with you no less than _wailing_ some song about your absconded love –I had every sympathy for her by the third verse.'

Haer'Dalis said nothing, just groaned and sank his head down, trying to bury it in his folded arms. Aerie laughed.

'Oh, you were not so shy last night, my love. You with an arm each over Fritha and I we carried you between us, telling us we were your favourite girls, the jewels of Athkatla, and how you'd duel anyone who spoke against it.'

'Aerie and Fritha did the carrying?' confirmed Valygar, 'Did you not volunteer your back, Minsc?'

The Rashemi nodded gravely. 'Oh yes, Boo always insists upon sparing maidens such labours if we may, but as soon as our bard was over my shoulder, such fuss!'

Jaheira sipped her tea with a smile. She could well imagine that being over Minsc's broad shoulder, upside down and jogged about would have done nothing for anyone, drunk or not, and Haer'Dalis was clearly in agreement, the bard looking almost green as he raised his head to croak, 'Oh, please, do not recall it to me.'

Minsc's laugh made the cups rattle. 'Ah, I have felt the same before now; too much Firewine has vanquished many mighty warriors of Rashemen. But if you feel its bite this morning, why not take a little more? A wedge dislodges a wedge, yes?'

'I really don't think more alcohol is the answer,' cautioned Aerie. Haer'Dalis ignored her.

'Does it work?' he asked, a wild desperation to his eyes. Valygar and Anomen shared a look and the knight shrugged.

'Sometimes…_ if_ you can drink it down.'

'And _keep_ it down,' added Valygar with a smirk.

But Haer'Dalis was already leaning back from the table to try and catch the maid's attention. 'At this point, my hounds, I will try anything.'

Jaheira shook her head, still smiling as she gestured to the large striped box before them. 'So, what is this?'

It was Aerie who answered her.

'I don't know; Bernard said it was on the bar when he got up this morning though he did not see anyone deliver it. We haven't opened it –it's addressed to Fritha.'

Jaheira frowned, wanting to ask if anyone had checked it for magic or traps, but the question stuck in her throat. Why did even the simple surprise of a gift have to be marred by such worries? Still, without knowing its source, perhaps caution would be advised and she was just wrestling herself into suggesting it anyway, when Aerie glanced up and was suddenly calling across the tavern.

'Ah, Fritha, I'm so glad you're here; we were just dying to know what's inside.'

'_We_?' repeated Jaheira archly.

Aerie rolled her eyes. 'All right then, _I_.'

'What's inside what?' Fritha questioned as she reached them and Aerie pointed to the large round box.

'We just arrived at breakfast and it was here waiting for us,' the elf explained brightly, Fritha now eyeing it with a wariness that matched the druid's.

'How do you know-?'

'It has your name on it, see.'

Fritha lifted the small neat card from under the string, feeling rather on show. She had expected to recognise the hand as Higgold's but the script was angular and unfamiliar to her.

'Well?' pressed Aerie.

'I don't think it's from the playhouse.'

'We know that, girl,' Jaheira snapped with a lot more passion than Fritha thought someone who was _apparently_ indifferent should have. 'If it were from the theatre, the boy Meck would have just brought it to your room. Now are you going to open it or not?'

Fritha glanced about at them all, strangely worried as she reached forward, untying the string and easing off the lid, her hands moving tentatively through the layers of thin paper within, until her fingers brushed against something familiar, and with a gasp she withdrew a beautiful straw hat.

'You!' she cried at Anomen who had managed to keep a straight face all that while, ignoring the others confusion as they both laughed together, Aerie giggling behind her hand as Fritha drew the hat back and made to hit him with it. She knew she should say something; scold or thank him, she was not sure, but she was so surprised, so pleased that she couldn't quite find the words.

Fritha glanced over it again, the simple lines and wide brim complemented by the stiff yellow scarf that circled it, tied to make a huge bow at the back, the tails trailing off the edge of the brim.

'Do you like it?' he asked, and she nodded, still unable to stop smiling.

'Yes, very much.'

'_You_ bought it for her?' questioned Jaheira, staring back and forth between the pair, 'Why?'

But Anomen did not answer, turning instead to ask Fritha, 'Are you going to try it on?'

She obliged him, laughing gently all the while as she took out her hair and placed it on her head, very aware of how foolish she no doubt looked stood in the middle of the Coronet in tunic and sword and a large yellow hat.

Haer'Dalis leaned back in his chair, something of his old swaggering self back as he managed his first smile of the morning.

'Very good, my hound, very good; I could almost grow to like you.'

'But a sunhat in middle of winter,' pressed Aerie with a laugh, 'wherever did you find it?'

Anomen just smiled, his eyes still fixed on Fritha.

'Oh, you can buy anything in the City of Coin; something I am only just beginning to appreciate.'

In love, though she was, with her new prize, Fritha knew she could hardly take it with her to the Windspears, the girl returning to the theatre after breakfast to leave it in her office with Nalia's gown, her new lute, the majority of her books and other things too bulky to cart all the way across Amn. Anomen had joined her for the walk, the others finishing their packing before making the way over to the oslter to collect their pony with arrangements for them all to meet at the city gates within the hour.

Which was where they were heading now, the streets still quiet, though the sun was up, just cresting the eastern rooftops, a watery yellow behind the veil of misty grey clouds. Fritha stole a glance at the man next to her. She had noticed Anomen did not insist on escorting her anywhere anymore, did not even offer, the man just taking up his cloak whenever she prepared to leave, his confidence that she would not refuse his company both pleasing and unsettling at the same time. He glanced up to catch her watching him and Fritha smiled past her embarrassment.

'I know I have said this before, but thank you for my hat, Anomen.'

'You are quite welcome -is it as nice as the one you fell in love with?'

Fritha's great burst of unexpected laughter echoed along the street; she was quite unused to his teasing. 'Oh, yes, at _least_. And this one is all the better because now it's _mine_.'

A silence fell between them, just long enough for Anomen's mind to drift back to the previous evening and he realised suddenly that with a tenday of travelling ahead of them, this would likely be the last occasion they would be alone together for a while.

'Fritha…what you said last night, before Sir Cadril…'

Fritha nodded wisely 'Ah, yes… did he shut up after that?'

Anomen smiled. 'That he did… though you did not have to say anything; I do not care what he thinks.'

'_Well,_ I overheard part of what he was saying to you and he kept trying to grill me when we chatted during breaks. The impudent wretch! Who is he to pass judgement on our relationship? On you?'

Fritha seemed to suddenly realise what she was saying and abruptly shut her mouth, her attention returned intently to their path, suddenly all discomfort and blush. It was the first time she had ever said anything about their relationship, even admitted there was such a thing and for such to be uttered in the same breath where she both disparaged his rival and defended him, Anomen could not have felt happier.

'What is it?' asked Fritha, the girl frowning as she noticed his grin.

'Nothing.'

'Well, stop smiling; it's disconcerting.'

But Anomen just laughed.


	80. Ghosts of the past

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Ghosts of the past**

It was first-day, a bright spring sun making the highest panes of the tall windows a glaring opaque white and bathing the kitchens in light, the air warm and sour with the scent of yeast; first-day had been baking day for as long as Fritha could remember. She adjusted the lute at her shoulder as she stepped down into the broad airy room, the cook, Beth, bent over and peering inside one of the two long ovens that were set in either side of the huge stone fireplace, six bread loaves and a large tray of sweetmeal biscuits already cooling on the scrubbed table behind her.

'Hello, Beth, ready for our lesson?'

'Ah, and here's my little lark,' Beth trilled, closing the long oven door and wiping her hands on her apron. 'Right, now- hey, put that down!'

Fritha grinned past a mouthful of biscuit.

'Too late,' she laughed, spraying the table before her with crumbs as she lay down her lute and began setting out her music. 'I've been practising that bransle you set me. I think I may have got it now; shall I start with that?'

'Ah, not just yet,' the stout woman faltered, looking uncomfortable as she pulled out the chair nearest her and Fritha dropped instinctively into the one opposite. 'You see, Gorion has asked me to have a word with you…'

Fritha was instantly on the defensive. 'Look, if it's about that missing cider, I swear-'

'It's not about the cider, girl,' the woman cut in, brusque with a manner that suggested to Fritha that they would both have soon wished it was. 'I already know that Dreppin has a fair idea where that's gone, if you catch my meaning. No, what I wanted to talk to you about was, well, er, I suppose _men_.'

'Whoa,' said Fritha, almost choking on the last of her biscuit in her haste to interrupt, 'steady on, Beth! If this is going where I think it is, then say no more. Candlekeep is full of books and at least few are on biology-'

'Don't be daft, girl, I don't mean like that,' the cook scolded, though Fritha fancied she looked rather relieved all the same, 'I want to talk to you about relationships. You're of an age now where you'll start noticing things about men-'

Fritha was horrified. 'What? I _don't_ think so.'

'Well they've been noticing you!' Beth interrupted impatiently, clearly wanting the topic out, discussed and over with. 'You are becoming a very fair young woman and as you get older you'll find that men will begin take an interest.'

'Who?'

'What do you mean, _who_? Men!'

'No, who's been…' Fritha swallowed, feeling her nose crinkling even as she finished, '_taking an interest_?'

'Ah, well, Gorion mentioned something about some of the younger monks…and I did hear Leit and Druis talking the other day.'

'_Druis?_' Fritha cried, no less embarrassed than if the young lad hadn't just appeared with a rather wilted daffodil and told her himself. 'I have sword practise with him! Oh, what can I do?'

Beth looked utterly confounded.

'_Do?_ Enjoy it! I may not look it now, but I was fair once -not as pretty as you mind but pretty enough and there's not a lot a man won't do for a fair face and a nice smile, as long as you know how to use it.'

But Beth was not the only one who was bewildered, Fritha shaking her head.

'I really don't understand, Beth. So, I look nice. So? What's the fuss about?'

Beth frowned. 'Are you trying to be clever?'

'No,' Fritha muttered dully, 'that never ends well.'

'Yes, well, here in the library such things have no value whatsoever. But out there, in the world, beauty in a woman is highly prized. There's many a bloke out there who's married a girl for that alone, if you catch my meaning.'

'You mean men would rather have a girl who's pretty even if she's thick?' confirmed Fritha; prospects for her suddenly looked bright. 'But, what about having someone for company, conversation -she won't be pretty forever!'

Beth pursed her lips wisely. 'Yes, well, you'll find many things are different out there, including men thinking with things other than their heads.'

Fritha was bewildered and not to mention heartily disappointed. How sad a world where people were only judged on such narrow, shallow and decidedly _fleeting_ terms. Except-

'Anomen isn't like that,' she blurted out defiantly, suddenly wondering where such had come from. Beth looked very interested too, the old woman leaning forward, her heavy bosom almost touching the table as she pressed delightedly, 'Anomen? Who's that then? Why, Fritha, you never said you had a sweetheart! Is he one of the new guards? Or with that band of young acolytes that just arrived from the Gate?'

Fritha shook her head, distracted, confused; something was not right…

'No, he's a knight, from Amn. But he likes me, he likes me even though I'm a Bhaalspawn. I-' Something clicked, the girl gazing about her at the warm, familiar kitchens with new eyes. 'I'm not really here, am I?'

Beth seemed to fade into the background as a voice somewhere above echoed, 'Fritha? Come on, Fritha.'

Someone was saying her name, a hand at her shoulder gently shaking her from sleep. She opened her eyes, letting them focus on the grey face above her; it was Jaheira.

'Fritha, it is time for our watch.'

Fritha nodded and stretched as best she could, her many layers twisted about her body as she had slept, the itchy heat of her eyes the only thing to hint at the earliness of the hour.

Jaheira had already left the tent they were sharing, the tent flap left open, the cold air against her face making her eyes water and the relative warmth of her blankets all the more appealing. But there was nothing to be done, Fritha merely straightening her tunic to pull on her coat and cloak and boots and stumble after the woman.

Outside, Anomen and Valygar were preparing to return to bed for the last couple of hours, the men already risen from their places about the small pit of glowing embers, the only point of colour in that otherwise grey world. The sky overhead was dark, but a watery light was hovering over the eastern hills. Fritha gazed about her at the small clearing where they had spent the night. Everything looked so different in the twilight, she could have still been dreaming, the camp surrounded by a seemingly impenetrable wall of shadowy fir trees, their still verdant branches and scaly reddish bark drained of the colour she usually found so heartening, while the stony ground beneath her feet glistened with the night's frost.

Anomen was making his way over to her, Fritha trying to raise a hand to greet him, but it took all her energy for the muttered, 'Morning.'

She could hear the smile in his voice even as she closed her eyes to yawn into her sleeve.

'Good morning, dearest, how did you sleep?'

Fritha said nothing, still couldn't quite manage the words yet and just nodded groggily. A hand landed firmly on her well-padded shoulder.

'There is tea over the fire. It is stewed to about the same flavour and consistency of tar, but the bitterness is quite rousing nevertheless.'

Fritha nodded again, just managing a mumble of thanks this time and, for a brief moment, the hand tightened at her shoulder. And then it was gone, Anomen returning to his tent with Valygar and leaving Fritha to shuffle over to join Jaheira, the girl stumbling around the clearing as though drunk, her legs not quite awake yet as she made to collect some more wood for the fire Jaheira was trying to coax back into life.

They were five hard days' journey from the city with another one left still to face before they reached their destination, though there had been no encounters with bounty hunters to mar their progress. Not that Fritha was surprised; she had been cold for days now. It had snowed a few times too, but it was rarely heavy and it had not lain, Fritha often finding herself wishing she was as sure footed as their pony as she slipped and skidded over the frozen slush, her calves aching from where she'd dug in her heels for grip. Of course, it hardly helped that some days she did not feel she could safely put one foot in front of the other. She was sleeping, but with the cold and her nerves, the rest was hard to come by. The slightest noise seemed to start her from sleep and she would lay and listen for untold moments, waiting to hear it again, to identify it, to assure herself it was just the wind or some night-creature and not another ambush.

Anomen was right; the tea was rousing, her first sip so bitter, Fritha felt she would never stop coughing.

'So, what were you dreaming about?' asked Jaheira, once her throat had finally calmed. 'Not one of your usual nightmares, I assume; I could hardly rouse you.'

Fritha nodded, carefully taking another mouthful of tea to croak, 'I was back in Candlekeep. Beth was telling me about _boys_ at Gorion's request. It was a talk we had once, when Gorion found out Druis, one of the young guards, liked me. _I_ had been oblivious until that point.'

In the gloom, Fritha watched Jaheira's lips twitch. 'And what sage advice did your teacher offer you?'

Fritha shrugged. 'That men are easily led and, if you are fair of face, or even just all right and good at flirting, you can pretty much get whatever you want from them. I don't think Gorion would have approved of that stance either,' Fritha added at Jaheira's highly censorious look, 'but then he should not have been such a coward and spoken to me himself. Luckily for all of us, I was not a very good student.'

The druid snorted in amused agreement and silence fell between them, Fritha reluctant to mention anything of the latter part of her dream; she felt foolish at her vehement defence of Anomen. It was strange, wondering about the people of Candlekeep, well, the ones she had liked anyway -Beth and Ferescian and dear old Phlydia- wondering what they would think of Anomen, whether they would approve of him.

_Strange?_ _It's just plain silly!_

Fritha sighed and took more tea. She was right, of course. What did it matter? She would likely never see them again. They were as dead to her as Gorion was.

And as for Anomen…

'Fritha?'

Fritha started, Jaheira's eyes reflecting in the firelight

'Sorry,' she murmured, pulling her cloak about her, 'I was just thinking.'

The woman seemed to need no further explanation as to what would be occupying her thoughts and they sat in silence until the eastern skies warmed to a pale yellow and the others rose to join them.

The group set off a couple of hours later. After so many days travelling, packing up the camp was an exercise in efficiency, everyone going to their own set tasks, taking down the tents and preparing the breakfast, all cogs working together in a well-oiled mechanism. Today's journey would take them through the last of the foothills and to the pass that would lead them into the Windspears proper, the day after bringing them to their contact, Garren's, holding and the task that had brought them so far across Amn.

They stopped just after high sun for a quick meal, no one even taking the time to sit, the group just eating as they stood in twos and threes before the wide ravine that was the beginning of the pass, the steep hillsides still bearing the hardy fir trees, though more sparsely than before. Fritha stood at the tree line watching the clouds overhead grow ever darker as she absently fed a carrot to the pony at her side.

'How is he bearing up?' asked Anomen behind her and Fritha turned to receive a round of the waybread Valygar had unpacked.

'Who, Toffee?' she confirmed, glancing down to the beast that, even after five days' hard travel, had yet to bite, kick or deliberately try to move when they made to load him. 'Oh, fine, he's fine -he's very well behaved,' she added in a sigh; Fritha missed Donkey.

Anomen just smiled and they ate in silence, the sharp air somehow making the bread all the more flavoursome. The dry stodgy dough was sour and hearty, Fritha feeling quite content as stood listening to the chatter of the crossbills in the branches above her and the quiet murmur of the others in conversation on the opposite side of the wide path.

It began as a clatter in the air about them, the clouds above finally releasing a deluge of hail and there was a scramble across the path as the others hurried under the trees. Fritha just threw up her hood.

'At least it's not snow,' she muttered to the clouded sky, unable to help a smile at the man stood next to her, the hail bouncing off his breastplate. 'You're rattling like an alms box.'

'Here,' Anomen instructed quietly, tugging her sleeve to encourage her a step closer as he brought his shield over them both. Fritha let her eyes drift over his shoulder, suddenly unable to look at him as the warmth in her stomach rushed up to her face, and she gazed up the wooded hillside next to them, the murky wall of trunks not quite hiding the stealthily approaching silhouettes. It was as though the icy breeze had taken a knife's edge, splitting cloak and cloak to just blow straight through to her soul.

'Anomen, drop your shield and fall back!' Fritha barked, stepping back and pulling the pony with her as she shouted, 'Fall back, everyone, we're under attack!'

In an instant, arrows were nocked and swords drawn, Aerie's hands crackling with the spell she was readying, all eyes trained on the forest's edge when Jaheira suddenly leapt forward.

'Wait! Hold! It is Dermin! Oh, Dermin,' the woman sighed, stepping up to greet the man as he and his fellows left the cover of the trees, about half a dozen of them gathering upon the path, the hail rattling on their armour, 'By Silvanus, I have been so worried for you. I thought the Harpers had… Who are these with you? I do not recognise them.'

But the old man just shook his head. 'Ah, Jaheira, I do not relish the task that brings me to you this day.'

Jaheira recoiled a step. 'You- you have been sent by the Harpers? But you _know_ what Galvarey was like, how he was obsessed with meeting Fritha –we spoke of it often!'

Dermin could not seem to meet her eye, though his voice remained firm.

'Jaheira, I am sent today to issue a warning, but I come also as a friend. The Harpers more than any would see justice done here. Give yourself up; throw yourself upon their mercy. You have worked within their ranks for years and these deeds have not been forgotten. Come with me now, and I guarantee a fair trial for you and the girl both.'

Jaheira's face twisted with an uncharacteristic sneer.

'So I should put my trust in Harper justice, should I? The same justice that Reviane brought? They treated us as murderers without even hearing what we would say on the matter! Did you not speak to them, Dermin? Could you not convince them-'

'Convince them of what, Jaheira?' Dermin cried, just as fraught, 'What do I know? Only that Galvarey called your friend forward to be assessed, and now he and those with him are dead. Jaheira, I know you had your doubts before; can you not even admit to the possibility that she has corrupted you without even your realisation of it?'

'_No!_'

Jaheira was scarlet in her defiance, Dermin looking no more likely to back down; how long before two old friends were brought to blows? She had been hiding behind Jaheira in this too long … Fritha sighed.

'This must end.'

Dermin nodded curtly. 'I agree and soon; your actions, warranted or not, have already forced your friend to kill her fellows.'

'Dermin, how can you speak so?'

'I speak naught but the truth, Jaheira.'

Fritha glanced down to the pony at her side, his grey muzzle nibbling at the gloved fingers of her free hand, unaware of the danger as he searched for another carrot. Silly beast…

'He is right, Jaheira. Until we can prove Galvarey was wrong in his assessment and tried to imprison me without cause, the Harpers will always look upon us as murderers.' Fritha drew a deep breath, voice resonating with an authority that just dared objection. 'I offer the Harpers a deal, Dermin; I will come and be judged, if they will help me retrieve Imoen. The Harpers's influence is far reaching. Have the Cowled Wizards release her, or find this Spellhold, or just give me the rest of the coin I need and I will get her myself. When Imoen is back with me, I will come and accept your tests and your judgement.'

Jaheira and Anomen's predictable outrage was instant.

'Fritha, _no!_'

'Are you mad? They will lock you away!'

But theirs was not the only dissent. Dermin was staring across the path at her and, for a moment, there was only silence and the faint patter of the lightly falling hail.

'I cannot accept your offer… You were right, Jaheira, I see it now. You have a good soul, godchild. Galvarey was so sure there would be something, some taint, some dark shadow on her spirit that we could exploit, that we could exaggerate enough to convince the seniors. And after you killed him, I will admit, I was quite convinced of it too.'

Fritha gave a faintly bitter laugh, the whole situation already too wretched for her to manage more.

'Yes, well, I'm afraid Galvarey caught me on an off-day.'

Jaheira was shaking her head, staring at the man as though she had never seen him before.

'Galvarey… you were in league with him all along? I trusted you, Dermin! You convinced me to bring Fritha before him! Why? Answer me!'

'Galvarey needed that promotion –oh, not for the reasons you think; he cared little for the glory of it. But as a Herald, his influence would have grown and with it the chance to change this land for the better; the chance perhaps to save countless lives. You do not understand. Things are happening, here and all over Faerûn, the wheels that Bhaal set in motion so long ago are gathering momentum and, if they are not halted now, they never will be! All the Children are seeds of chaos and evil, whether they mean to be or not. Your imprisonment may have seemed injustice, but it was for the greater good!'

'Greater good? _Greater good?_' Fritha repeated, shrill in her temper, 'The excuse for supposedly moral men to commit unspeakable horrors, and still pat themselves on the back afterwards, smug in misapprehension that they are still working for the right side.'

'Sacrifices must be made!'

'Oh, aye, and it's funny how such sacrifices invariably affect others rather than yourselves! Your _noble_ sacrifice has seen many of your fellows dead! The greater good -Ha! Who can predict what will come with such accuracy to be able to justify what evil should be committed now? I say let this next step be the best one you can make, and the future unfurl as it may!'

'And what is your next step, Bhaalspawn?'

Fritha hefted the sword in her hand, glancing briefly to Jaheira as she answered, 'Return to the Harpers. Tell them of Galvarey's plan -you need not mention your own involvement, if you are too much of a _coward _to face it. Have them rescind the bounty on us.'

'I cannot.'

'You mean, you _will_ not!' spat Jaheira. Dermin sighed.

'Jaheira, I know our paths may be different now, but we still work for the same cause.'

The woman shook her head. 'I do not know you, Dermin. You have lost your way and I will not join you in your folly.'

'The folly is yours here, Jaheira, and many more than you would suffer were I to allow it! I am sorry, but if you will not stand with me, then you will die by her.'

Jaheira lowered her staff at him, her eyes bright. 'So be it.'

Valygar took the first kill, the arrow he had been holding half-drawn all that while raised and released in a heartbeat, the man it hit gurgling on his own blood as the arrow passed straight through his throat to hit the shield of the man behind. An encouraging slap to his hindquarters and the pony bolted down the slope, Fritha not watching where he went as she closed the gap between her and Anomen, ready to take advantage of his shield.

The Harpers were closing in, Valygar falling further back as he readied another arrow, he and the tiefling before Aerie, guarding her as she summoned her magics, the girl keeping up a continuous chant as she both traced a complex pattern in the air with a hand and scratched a corresponding symbol in the dirt path with her foot.

Jaheira was locked in a fierce fight with Dermin, the druid being kept on the defensive, blocking the flurry of sweeps and thrusts as the man tried to get his blade past her guard, another of the Harpers hoping to use the distraction to sneak a blade into her back. Her peripherals just caught the movement though, the woman turning one way as she brought the staff across her in the opposite direction, the blow disarming him in one strike and likely breaking his arm as well, Minsc stepping up to finish his with a thrust through his chest.

Fritha was still working on the theory that they had orders to take her alive, at least initially, and was making no retreat, Anomen guarding the flanks she seemed happy to disregard and keeping the Harpers from getting in the midst of their group, the clashing weapons igniting with ice blue sparks as Aerie's spell swelled to its crescendo.

Back with Jaheira the tables had turned, the druid on the offensive ever since a sly swing at an old leg wound had left Dermin limping slightly, and she was pressing her advantage, the man flagging with every blow he was now forced to catch upon his sword. It was just a matter of time, though their fight was cut short.

A piercing crack split the air as Aerie finally struck her staff into the glowing rune at her feet, and a great gust of hot wind howled over them. Fritha covered her face as dust and grit from the path was blasted across her, though her reaction was nothing to that of their enemies, their screams echoing about the hillsides like the cries of the Damned, as though their souls were being torn from their very bodies. The wind died, leaving only a faint trace of sulphur, and one by one the Harpers just collapsed where they stood.

Fritha whistled through her teeth, at a loss for anything more descriptive as she gazed at the body-strewn path, Aerie looking almost stricken by the power she had unleashed.

'I- I've never tried that before; the runes hold much more power than I had first expected.'

Valygar said nothing, though his frown would have been impossible to miss. Dermin was still alive, though just barely, the man twisting his broken body to gaze up at the woman stood over him.

'You have doomed us all, Jaheira,' he croaked, victorious in that, even as he lay defeated, 'you and that ill-gotten godspawn!'

'You know nothing, Dermin, NOTHING!'

But it was too late; he was dead. Jaheira stood, staring down at his body like she wanted nothing more than to spit on it.

'All along… He was my friend, he first brought me into the Harpers, and all along he was working with Galvarey…' she glanced up, whirling to the girl next to her, 'Fritha, what he said-'

But Fritha knew by the injured look to her face what the woman would say and she did not need to hear it.

'It's all right. We all say things to our friends; tell them of fears and doubts we would not usually admit. You stood by me when Reviane came and you stood by me again now- that is enough for me.'

Jaheira looked close to tears and there was really only one way to deal with that apparently.

'And offering to go with him in exchange for Imoen- Foolish girl! After all that has been done to keep you from the Harpers! What were you thinking?'

Fritha just laughed weakly.

'So was Dermin working for the Harpers then?' asked Aerie, 'Were they really offering you a trial?'

Jaheira shrugged, turning her back on the bodies and she moved to collect her pack.

'Perhaps. If he brought us in where others failed, it would certainly look good enough to earn him the promotion Galvarey so desired. Come, I will waste no more time on this.'

And with that, she shouldered her pack and set off, leaving them with little choice but to follow. Fritha sighed, tipping back her hood as a shaft of weak sunlight pierced the clouds above, the girl turning her back on the light as she called down the path for the pony.

xxx

Anomen sighed quietly, even his breathing tempered as he sat, painfully aware of the body next to him, mere inches between them. The knight flexed his foot with a wince, but made no further attempt to work the stiffness from the leg nearest her. Truth be told, his leg had gone to sleep an hour ago, but Fritha was dozing next to him and he did not want to risk moving and awakening her. It had been the same for days now, ever since they left the city really, Fritha nerves rising as they left the relative safety of Athkatla's walls and just as certainly as she would come and sit by him of an evening, an hour or so later would find her fallen asleep where she was sat.

As for he and Fritha, nothing much had changed between them, everything returned to that time before he had told her, except that now she knew of his affections and would still come and talk and laugh and look at him with shinning eyes. Anomen had to admit, he could not recall being happier -he only wished he could say the same for her.

He knew she was not sleeping well and he felt he likely knew the reason too, the girl muttering something about 'bad dreams' when he had first asked her of it, clearly unwilling to elaborate further, and Anomen had pressed her no more. She was likely having another now by her frown, but she needed the rest and he did not wake her, his eyes drifting from her to take in the camp about them. They had stopped in the pass they had spent the latter half of the day travelling through, the group climbing out of the ravine to find shelter from the howling winds on the steep hillside, the fir trees growing too closely to pitch their tents, and though the canvas was strung taught above them, it would be a very cold night.

Across from him, Aerie and Haer'Dalis were sat similarly on the other side of the fire, though both were awake, the elf leaning upon her swain as she read and he braided narrow sections of her hair, seemingly just for the pleasure of it. Next to them, Valygar was checking his bowstring, Jaheira poring over the map of the Windspears with Minsc as they discussed the likely areas where the bandits they had been summoned to rout could be holding camps.

A sharp intake of breath next to him, and Fritha was awake, hands already at sword and scabbard before she seemed to realise where she was and relaxed again, leaning back again the trunk with a shuddering sigh. Anomen took a moment to hide his frown.

'Another dream?'

Fritha shrugged and nodded. 'Harpers, swords, box: same old, same old.'

Anomen sighed, pained that even sleep gave her no respite.

'You know I would protect you with my dying breath.'

She smiled slightly. 'Well, that's very nice of you, Anomen, but I think I would much rather you beat a strategic retreat and survived to come rescue me later.'

Anomen laughed in spite of himself, the girl leaning forward to rest her chin on her knees and he reached out to lay a reassuring hand upon her shoulder, rubbing a thumb along the back of her neck. Fritha sighed tiredly.

'What are you trying to do? Write your name in the dirt?'

'Not at all -your neck is too slender.'

'Oh, but quite filthy enough, I suppose?' She laughed into her knees, shaking her head. 'The cheek of it.'

Anomen smiled, about to reply though another cut him off, the man turning to see Jaheira on her feet and looking at him expectantly.

'Anomen, could you come and look at this please? Minsc and I have found note of a fortification, though we are unsure as to the age of this map –it could be abandoned.'

Fritha nodded and smiled as he excused himself, watching him a moment, before another's approach pulled her attention away, Haer'Dalis sending her a grin that could only mean mischief.

'So, the day ends, the ptarmigan calls away the hound and I _finally _get a chance to speak with you away from your hirsute suitor.'

Fritha made a shrill noise of disgust. '_Haer'Dalis!_'

He laughed, dropping to sit cross-legged next to her and drawing a deep sigh as he began casually, 'So, you are a Bhaalspawn then, the mortal progeny of a dark dead god.'

Fritha nodded mildly, no more ruffled than he.

'Indeed, I am. You seem rather well-informed of the thing.'

The tiefling shrugged. 'Aerie gave me the benefit of her knowledge after Dermin and the others were dispatched. The Time of Troubles and Bhaal's plan for rebirth from the seeds of his children; she seems to think it quite the tragedy.'

'And I suppose you see it as a good thing.'

'No, I see it as I see my own heritage: just a thing.'

Fritha smiled. 'We are ever of one mind. I'm surprised, though, no one told you of it before now. You did know the Harpers were after me, didn't you?'

'Oh, yes, but the way it was put led me to understand it was for more a crime of action than blood.'

'And you didn't think to ask anyone of what I was accused?' she cried with an incredulous amusement, but the tiefling merely shrugged again.

'No, what did it matter? I trust your judgement better than some lawmaker's. Whatever you did or did not do, you would not have done so lightly and I am happy to stand by you.'

Fritha said nothing, just smiled and dipped her face against the blush, feeling almost embarrassed by such unwavering loyalty so freely given. Haer'Dalis seemed to understand though, for he smiled as well, nodding across the camp to where Anomen was now frowning over the map with Jaheira.

'But what of our knight; how does he see his lady's ancestry?'

Fritha sighed, leaning forward once more to rest her chin on her knees.

'I believe it saddens him, but only in the fact that others take a more hostile stance -as you have seen.'

'I am surprised. Love has made quite the change in him.'

Fritha snorted wryly. 'Oh, he knew of my heritage _long _before any of that. He has known for months.'

'I _am_ surprised,' Haer'Dalis repeated with much more conviction. 'It seems I have misjudged him, though I must admit, I still do not understand how he appeals to _you_.'

Her smile was slight and almost wistful.

'He is kind and he cares for me, really cares for my well-being –it can be intoxicating. And more than that, he makes me feel safe; something I could not truly appreciate until everyone wanted me dead. I sit next to him and I feel as though there is nothing in all Toril that can touch me.'

She thought Haer'Dalis would laugh and tease her but, in the end, he just smiled.

'Well, it is pleasant to see such affection blossoming -though you have certainly picked a time for it!' he laughed, pulling his cloak about him as another gust of icy wind stirred the branches above them, 'I can guarantee it is the only thing within a hundred leagues of here which is.'

Fritha just shook her head, taking in the frigid, barren landscape with distant eyes. 'No, this is our season; we would not suit the spring.'

'So your plans have not changed?'

The girl shrugged.

'How can they? Imoen is still taken, I am still hunted by Harpers and watched by vampires and Anomen is still a knight of the Order with the duties that entails.'

Haer'Dalis smiled dryly. 'You have entered into the thing with more resignation of its end than a Doomguard.'

'No,' Fritha refuted with a dull sigh, 'you will see I am not revelling in it. Go now, go and sit with Aerie; let me have a glimpse of summer.'


	81. The affairs of dragons

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.  
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**The affairs of dragons**

'Right,' muttered Jaheira, struggling to refold the map to show the relevant quarter in the fitful gusts of wind that were howling up the valley behind them. They were paused about the stout stone marker that indicated the border of the Windspears, their group gathered on that barren rocky plain, towering crags and imposing tree-covered mountains looming upon every horizon, the pony Aerie was leading taking advantage of this halt to tear up some of the rye grass growing about his hooves. 'Right, according to this, Garren's holding is but a mile north of here. The village of Rythorpe is several miles west of that and likely large enough to provide us with any supplies we will need, while, over on the eastern hills, is the hamlet of Ferncragg with a few farmsteads scattered about the surrounding area.'

'I cannot see much to farm about here,' muttered Haer'Dalis, scuffing a foot over the stony ground, 'unless they do trade in scree and dust.'

'Most of the trade, I believe, is from timber,' offered Valygar, 'There is a large forest of pine and other firs to the south west, though the eastern hills are more verdant -at least relatively. There is enough scrubland up there to keep a few herds of goats; enough to live on, though the life could not be considered easy.'

Anomen frowned, scanning the distant cliffs. 'And these bandit attacks will hardly be helping matters –livestock will be as valuable as gold at this time of year.'

'Indeed,' agreed Jaheira, tucking the map under her arm as the group set off northward once more, 'Minsc and I worked out a route yesterday covering the likely places they will have made camp. They will be dug in and immobile at this time of year, so that has narrowed the field of potential places to ones that are more sheltered –I estimate a tenday will be enough to make a thorough search of them all. We should speak with this Garren before we finalise anything, though; he may have an idea-

Valygar raised a large hand, eyes fixed on the rough hillside next to them. 'Hold. We are approached.'

'Harpers?'

'Bandits?'

It was actually orcs; a whole band of the creatures, about a dozen in total marching down the hill and making no attempt to conceal themselves behind the sparsely growing pines.

'Well, this is unexpected,' muttered Jaheira, instinctively turning to push the map back into the safety of her pack, 'Lord Jierdan made no mention of the bandits being non-humans.'

'Perhaps they aren't,' said Fritha, raising her voice with her hand as she called, 'Ho! We would parley with you!'

The lead orc brought his group to a halt but yards from them, his small eyes narrowed and almost hidden in his muddy porcine face.

'So, we have finally found you.'

'You were looking for us?' confirmed Valygar. The orc snarled, a hand already at his weapon.

'Your mockery will earn you nothing but a swift end, beasts! Your terror ends now!'

Now Jaheira was frowning and looking quite as cross as the orc leader. 'And what _terror _is that? We have only just arrived here. Lord Jierdan-'

'Be silent, cur!' shouted another of the orcs, 'We will not hear your lies!'

'_Cur?' _repeated Fritha, more than surprised by orcs who swore as courteously as _Anomen. _'You know, you're awfully eloquent; where did you learn common?'

'Enough!' roared the leader, drawing the club at his hip, 'No more words! My blade has all the answers you seek! Attack!'

Fritha was moving back, drawing her own sword even as she cried, 'Now just hang- whoa!' She just dodged the arrow, the shaft whipping past her ear, Valygar releasing one of his own -only his did not miss.

'Get on the archer!' the leader roared, but the ranger had already cast aside his bow, drawing the fine katana at his hip as the two groups met in a clash of blades.

A spell from Aerie crackled overhead and the archer still left on the hillside was no more, the thick fir tree he had tried to duck behind all charred bark and smoking branches. Anomen had stepped forward to engage the orc leader, the pair trading furious blows while Jaheira guarded his flank and Aerie both as the elf prepared another spell, Fritha, Minsc, Haer'Dalis and Valygar pressing the battle into their ranks. Fritha finished the orc before her with a final slash to the gut, whirling to block the spear thrust of his fellow who had just appeared on her left, the girl dancing past the spear point to make a thrust of her own, the blow caught easily on his shield.

Inside his guard though she was, he made no retreat, instead swinging the shield out and forcing Fritha back, his spear held low and ready for another thrust. She blocked it again, using the flat of her blade to deflect it towards the stony ground and it was there she saw her chance. A booted foot planted firmly on the spear head as her blade swept down to hack it off at the shaft, her victory short-lived as the broken pole was instantly freed and the orc drew back the splintered shaft and drove it at her stomach with force enough to split her mail.

Fritha gasped, the spear suddenly a white-hot lance as it pierced her side, and the image of him swam before her eyes, not the orc she had just been fighting, but a man, square-jawed and pale, his blue eyes like saucers as he stared down at her in horror.

Ajantis had faced much in battle over those last two years within the Order's ranks, but to be locked in fierce combat with a vile snarling orc, only to strike the killing blow and find a young woman staring up at him had been more of a shock than he had been prepared for. The spear shaft left his hand and, for an instant, she just stood there, staring up at him as if in a dream, when her head dropped, a curtain of auburn curls sweeping across to hide her face as she slumped forward, clasping his arm for support, Ajantis stricken as he fumbled to get an arm about her.

'Oh… oh by Helm, my lady…'

'Fritha!' cried a tanned half-elf a few yards from them, young Adril laid out at her feet, the woman already hurrying over to him. 'Don't-!' she snapped, but instinct had taken the place of sense in his panic, Ajantis reaching forward to heave the shaft from the girl, blood spattering the ground beneath.

'Fool! Better you had left it in!' the woman cursed at him, falling to her knees to help lower the girl to the ground, quickly brushing the hair back from her paled face, the girl's eyes but fearful slits as they found her companion.

'Jaheira…'

'There, Fritha, lie back, let me see.'

'Oh, gods… Jaheira…'

'Fritha!' cried another behind him and Ajantis whirled just in time to be shoved sideways, a man of his own age and Amnian colouring pushing past him to drop to his knees beside the pair. 'Fritha, oh, Helm's mercy-'

'It is all right, Anomen,' the half-elf soothed, 'it is not as bad as it could have been.'

At Ajantis's feet, the girl gave a feeble laugh.

'Yes, quite, barely a scratch –ohhhh...' she trailed off with groan. The half-elf frowned, though her tone was gentle.

'There are other wounded, Anomen.'

For an instant, the man looked torn, when he leaned in, placing a hand against the girl's forehead as he murmured, 'I will return, dearest,' and then he was gone, on his feet again and rushing to help a huge bald warrior with his burden, the old soldier, Wilhelm, leaning against him heavily and barely conscious as he clutched at his bleeding stomach.

Ajantis took a step back from them, his eyes scanning the rest of the battlefield with disbelief. There were no orcs, his own companion from the Order, Sir Aeslen, and most of the militia men they had led lain dead upon the field, though a few were still alive. Fashir was sat up, panting as he clasped his bloody shoulder, a man with blue hair next to him and busy trying to staunch the wound in his leg. Jude was knelt next to the unconscious Adril, while a dark-skinned man was helping a young elven girl as they tended to Dewydd, and Ajantis had finally regained himself enough to set out to aid them, when a voice somewhere above him shouted, 'What is going on here?'

'Who are you?' Jaheira demanded at his feet and Ajantis turned to see who she was addressing, a man of late middle age hurrying down the eastern hillside, a bow strung at his back and a brace of rabbits swinging at his hip.

'I am Garren,' he called back, 'I keep the holding just north of here. I was just coming down from checking my traps when I saw…'

'_You saw_?' pressed Ajantis, desperate for this horror to make some sense. Garren's craggy face pulled into a sympathetic frown.

'I saw two groups of orcs fighting, only their deaths have yielded different results.'

Ajantis closed his eyes, trying to fight down the anger that went against all the Order's teachings as he concluded, 'We have been tricked into attacking these people.'

Garren nodded.

'That I can see, and I can guess the perpetrator too, though now is not the time for discussion. Come, bring your wounded; my house is not far from here and we may yet avoid more deaths if we hurry.'

He spoke the truth, his house barely a quarter hour's walk, though, to be fair, their pace was much hastened, the group carrying their wounded as they skirted north through the edge of the forested hillside and crossed a barren windswept plain to the holding. The house itself looked large and quite grand, the stone grey and likely brought in from elsewhere, the wooden barn and few sheds dotted about it seemingly added later, all enclosed by a wall of loose brown stone that had been collected from the rocky plain itself. Garren was shouting as soon as he had passed the gate, the man calling for his son as he crossed the yard and threw open his front door to usher them all inside.

'Here, just tie the pony to the post there -Lewis? My son, we have need of you!'

Everyone crowded into the main room, though it was quite large enough, especially considering what little furniture there was, only a solid oak table set against the back wall and two chairs either side of hearth, Garren stood in the centre barking commands with the authority of a man used to giving orders.

'Take the wounded men into the kitchen; there is room and light enough in there to work. You, sir, take this table through as well, set it next to one already in there. You, help him please, then stoke the fire and put some water over it to heat –there is a hand pump in the backyard. Ah, Lewis,' Garren sighed as a dark-haired gangly youth of no more than sixteen winters ran in the front door behind them.

'Father, what-'

'No time for explanations, lad, these men have need of your skills. Go into the kitchen and help these good people as your mother once would have.'

Lewis paled as he noticed the bloodied man Anomen and Ajantis were carrying into the kitchen, though he nodded once and hurried after them.

'Have you somewhere I can work?' asked Jaheira, Fritha slumped between her and Haer'Dalis and groaning softly as the tiefling murmured some comfort at her ear.

'Of course,' Garren nodded, hurrying to open the door to their right on a large plain bedroom, the canopied bed and chest of drawers looking rather lost in such an abundance of space. 'Here, my lady, lay her on the bed.'

'_No…_' groaned Fritha, still sensible enough of her surroundings to spare a worry for Garren's sheets, it seemed.

'_Fritha,' _Jaheira ground out, though she heeded the girl all the same, nodding at Haer'Dalis as they lowered her gently to the bare floorboards. 'I am sure the floor will serve.'

Garren nodded, moving to close the door on them as Haer'Dalis hurried out.

'As you will, my lady; Gods be with you.'

**...**

In the kitchen, steam was billowing from the hearth, the pot over the fire bubbling furiously and a warm wet mist hung in the air. Anomen wiped the sweat from his forehead and likely smeared it with blood in return, the young Dewydd lain out on the table before him, blood covering the table and smearing the stone floor at his feet as Anomen tried in vain to close the gaping wound in his chest with spell and suture, the sources of bleeding too multiple to locate and he would no sooner seal one than find another.

'Lewis, take that water off the fire and open the back door,' he barked, the lad springing up from where he had been tending Fashir, the solider sat on a chair in the far corner, the bandages bright against his coffee coloured skin, while Adril was laid at his feet on a makeshift bed of deerskins Lewis had brought in from the barn.

Aerie was hunched over the table opposite, Wilhelm long passed out from his stomach wound, though she looked to be having more luck with it.

'I need more wadding, Lewis –just in the top of my bag, there.'

They continued to work like that for a few moments more, silent save for the occasional order to Lewis, the air clearing as the steam dissipated, when the girl opposite cast one final spell and stepped back from the table with a relieved sigh. Anomen glanced up to the young man's face, Dewydd's skin pale and cool, two fingers at his neck confirming the unavoidable truth.

'How are they doing there?' asked Fashir quietly; he already knew.

'Wilhelm should be fine,' answered Aerie, 'I've given him some milk of poppy to keep him sedated for the pain. He needs to be left here an hour or so to settle, then it should be safe to move him.'

The elf turned to Anomen. He shook his head.

'I'm sorry.'

Fashir just nodded once, Lewis pulling the last knot tight on the bandage at his leg to pipe up, 'There, sir, how does that feel?'

'Much better, lad, my thanks,' he sighed, Lewis helping him as Fashir limped to the door. Anomen sank heavily on to the chair he left, pulling the pot of hot water to him as he stooped to wash his hands. Aerie watched him with thin lips, turning to the boy to add quietly, 'If you are finished there, Lewis, perhaps you could go and see if Jaheira needs anything.'

'Yes, my lady.'

The pair at last alone and Aerie crossed to crouch before him, her voice gentle as she dipped her own hands into the warm, ruddy water.

'We tried our best, Anomen.'

'I know.'

'There was nothing more we could do.'

'I _know!_'

'Don't snap at me, Anomen,' she retorted just as sharply, 'I am only trying to help.'

Anomen drew a deep breath, raising his face to finally look at her.

'I am sorry, Aerie, I just never thought I would be found a murderer.'

'Murderer?' she repeated shrilly, already shaking her head, 'I'm sorry they are dead, Anomen, but we are _not_ to blame in this. Fritha tried to parley with them and they just attacked us.'

'We looked as beasts!'

'_So?_ Such an excuse would have seen _me_ dead back at the circus! They attacked with no cause and nearly killed us, so stop acting as though we have just slaughtered a field of innocents!'

'You are right; I know it. It is just difficult to lay the blame at the feet of men you have just killed.'

'Er…'

Anomen glanced up to find Lewis peering apprehensively around the door.

'How is she?'

'Mistress Jaheira says she needs nothing save no more interruptions.'

Aerie tightened the hand upon Anomen's shoulder to forestall him bawling the lad stupid as she clarified, 'And how is _Fritha?_'

'Oh, Mistress Jaheira said there is much splintered wood and chain links in the wound; she is having to remove them before she can begin to close it.'

Anomen sank his head back into his hands, stomach so tight with worry he felt sick. Aerie gave his shoulder a brief reassuring squeeze.

'She'll be all right, Anomen.'

He nodded, straightening with a sigh. 'Come, we should speak to the others and try to find some sense behind this cruel deception.'

Back in the main room, discussions were already in progress, though little headway had been made, it seemed. All but Fashir and Garren were sat in a circle upon the floor, and the room turned as one as Aerie shut the kitchen door behind them, Ajantis looking grave.

'Fashir told us about Dewydd- you did all you could and I thank you for it.'

The pair nodded, but said nothing, Garren rising to let Aerie take his seat, while Anomen remained stood by the door as talks resumed, Ajantis taking the lead.

'You said before you believe you know who tricked us, sir.'

'I have a suspicion, no more,' Garren began, the firelight making the silver streaks in his hair all the more noticeable as he settled on to the floor next to his son. 'As these men may tell you, I was once lord of these lands, but that honour was taken from me by one Lord Jierdan Firkraag and I shall forever curse his name for it.'

'You are saying Lord Jierdan put this illusion on us?' exclaimed Jude angrily, 'You are out of your mind! Lord Jierdan protects his people. He paid for the Stonetooth Fort to be rebuilt, set up the militia and asked the Order to send men to train us –why would he want to kill us?'

Garren shrugged, seemingly unconcerned by the man's anger. 'I do not know why. I only know he is the sort of man who could and would if it served his ends.'

'How did Jierdan take your lands?' asked Valygar. Garren's chuckle was heavy with bitterness.

'All too easily, I fear. He discredited me. Without the faith of the people you rule, you are nothing. There were missing people only Jierdan could find, bandits only he could stop. The people of the Windspears turned from me to him and my influence slowly crumbled.'

'Why didn't you tell anyone?' asked Fashir.

'I had no proof. It would have just looked as though I was bitter about my own failings. By the end, I was a lord in name only, as well you know.'

'But you could have warned us!' cried Jude, the man's face pink in his temper and clashing with his short russet hair.

'You liked Lord Jierdan well enough before this, Jude,' dismissed Fashir calmly, 'The fault here is his, not Garren's.'

'But none of this explains, why he would trick his own militia into killing some mercenaries,' pressed Ajantis.

Garren sighed. 'I cannot tell you. Jierdan's grudge against me is well-known. I fear he wanted me to crawl away and leave this land like a whipped dog when he took my title, but the Windspears are my home and I would not leave, lord or not. I still had my lodge here and we make a living enough from the forests. As for you, perhaps you or the Order slighted him in some matter.'

But Haer'Dalis was already shaking his head. 'Oh, no, my birds, I do not want to steal from you the limelight, but I believe you were but the bit players in this tragedy. Jierdan summoned us to this very place and I believe it is _we_ who are the intending victims of his wrath.'

'So he wanted us to kill _you?_' confirmed Ajantis. The tiefling gave an evasive shrug.

'Mayhaps. Though looking at the distribution of the wounded, perhaps it would be safer to assume he wished for us to kill you.'

'But why?' cried Jude, 'We have done nothing!'

A moment of silence; there was no answer for him.

'Whatever the reason,' continued Garren, 'the fort will soon notice your patrol has not returned and they will likely send another to investigate.' The man rose stiffly. 'I will go now and explain the situation, perhaps we can forestall their retaliation.'

Jude stood, as well, swinging his cloak about his shoulders. 'I will come with you, Garren, to lend weight to the story.'

'My thanks.'

'But what we to do in meantime?' asked Ajantis, 'Just wait for Jierdan to act again? The Order will demand justice in this.'

'And how do you plan to take it?' said Anomen, finally breaking his silence, 'We have no evidence yet that this Jierdan is truly the one to blame.'

'The fort is not far from here,' interjected Fashir, 'They will be back within a few hours and may even bring news which will help us find the real source of this evil.'

Garren nodded, shouldering his bow. 'We'll be off then; we should know more in a few hours.'

Anomen straightened from the wall as the door slammed shut.

'I should inform Fritha of the situation.'

**...**

Anomen pushed the door open on Garren's bedroom to find Fritha just as he had expected, laid out on the floor in the room's centre, his eyes drawn instantly to her pale bared abdomen, half-smeared with blood while Jaheira hunched over the open wound, bloodied forceps poised in one hand and her werelight hovering above her.

'Anomen,' the girl sighed and he pulled his gaze to her face, a cold sweat plastering stray curls to her forehead. A rag was clasped in her hand, a dark blue bottle that he assumed contained Jaheira's supply of ether resting at her shoulder. She smiled lazily. 'Come to partake of a little vitriol? Jaheira's temper has never felt so sweet.'

She giggled breathily, lacking the energy for more, Jaheira sitting back on her haunches to snap, 'Fritha, keep your breathing deep! You have little enough on that rag as it is!'

Anomen frowned. 'You should have put her under.'

'You think I did not suggest it? She wanted to be awake!'

'Don't talk about me like I'm not here,' Fritha sighed, her eyes half-closed above the rag, 'I won't chance being unconscious if something else happens. I'm fine. Just needed something to –fft- to take the edge off.'

'Sorry,' mumbled Jaheira, letting another fragment of wood drop into the dish at her side.

'How are the other wounded?' asked Fritha absently.

Anomen swallowed, dreading the answer. 'Adril is still unconscious, but the signs are good and Fashir is sat through in the main room with the others now. Wilhelm is sedated -Aerie has finished tending him and he is doing well.'

'And the last one?'

'Dewydd- he is dead, Fritha. We could not save him.'

Fritha gave a dry sob. 'Oh sweet Illmater, only five survived.'

'An inch or so higher and you would have likely joined them!' snapped Jaheira, 'Now, breathe!'

'It is believed,' continued Anomen, as Fritha choked her sobs with the rag once more, 'that this whole tragedy was orchestrated by the lord of these lands, Jierdan.'

'The one who asked us here to begin within?' confirmed Jaheira.

Fritha seemed especially hurt by this betrayal. 'Oh, and he seemed like such a nice man.'

'Well, Garren has had dealings with him before and this Jierdan seems a scoundrel of the highest order,' Anomen continued, trying to ignore the fact Jaheira had returned to her examination, Fritha's face contorting now and then as he spoke. 'Garren was long ago lord of these lands, but Jierdan tricked the people here and ousted him from power.'

'But why?' asked Jaheira and clearly expecting no reply, 'Why such an elaborate ruse to bring us here, only to trick us into such a crime?

'I know why,' cried Fritha miserably, 'it's because I'm _doomed!_ I come here to fight bandits for coin and I end up murdering some soldiers! Oh, why does everything I touch go wrong?'

Anomen frowned, wishing very much he could kneel next to her and take her hand, but he knew Jaheira would not welcome the distraction.

'Take heart, dearest; the blame in this is not ours and Garren has offered us what little influence he has left. He has already set out for the fort to inform them of what has happened and plead our case. He believes we should know the outcome in a few hours.'

Fritha sighed, raising her head slightly from the rolled-up cloak that was serving her as pillow and taking another deep sniff of the rag.

'Good,' she panted, 'that's something at least. And how are we doing down there?'

Jaheira glanced up, her face drawn. 'Well, I can find only one more… but it is the largest yet.'

Fritha stifled the most awful mix of groan and sob, and the druid looked stricken.

'It has to come out!' she snapped, her anger at what she was being forced to do clearly colouring her temper.

'I know, I know,' Fritha sobbed, drawing a deep breath from the rag and screwing shut her eyes, 'I'm ready.'

And Anomen was forced to leave as the druid descended, Fritha's muffled cries following him out.

**...**

There was no more peace to be found in the main room though, the others sat in brooding silence, and so Anomen mumbled something about making his prayers and left that crowded, overly warm house for the cold barren plains, the sun high above him and providing little warmth in midst of the biting wind. Anomen knew he had said he would be praying, but the words would not come and he just ended up just sat on the dry stone boundary of Garren's meagre yard. The pony had already been given lodgings within the barn and Anomen was quite alone as he watched a black kite hang over the northern crags, hunting for its next meal.

'Sir Anomen?'

Anomen glanced up at the address, Ajantis sending him a polite nod as he crossed to him. 'You are finished with your prayers?'

'Y-Yes,' Anomen faltered, not liking to lie about such things, though the young paladin seemed not to notice as he shook his head ruefully.

'I would give prayer myself. Such a failing in my duty; those men were under our care and we led them to death.'

'You were not in command of this group,' Anomen reminded quietly, not liking to think of the knight who had died by his own hand.

'No…' agreed Ajantis, adding with some reluctance, 'Sir Aeslen was a good man, but prone to rashness in his pursuit of justice. I understand such a thirst served him well over the years, but perhaps a little caution here could have avoided this tragedy.'

'Indeed…' murmured Anomen, feeling the understatement did not deserve more of a reply and a silence fell between the two men, Ajantis turning his pale blond head upwards to gaze at the sky. Anomen had heard the paladin's name about the Order, though they had never met before this day: a Waterhavian noble who joined the Radiant Heart as squire but two years ago and was made paladin last Midwinter. Anomen wondered if he should feel more camaraderie towards a fellow Helmite, though the sentiment would not come, his heart as empty as that cold desolate plain. Ajantis glanced to him with a weak smile.

'You are very quiet, friend.'

'I was just thinking on the Order,' Anomen lied.

'I will admit, I have worries there myself. That we were most heinously tricked is true enough, but the slaughter of these men and the death of Sir Aeslen is a stain on our honour, and one that may mar our reputations within the Order for many years to come.'

Anomen had been about to say that as long as his superiors did not believe ill of him he hardly cared _what_ anyone else thought, but he realised suddenly how like Fritha he would have sounded and the revelation struck him dumb. At his side, Ajantis was taking a more philosophical view.

'Ah, what will come, will come. We must keep faith in Helm, take justice from Jierdan's hide and all will be well.'

Anomen said nothing, just stared at him wondering how _he_ had ever managed to talk away all his own troubles with promises of vengeance and prayer. Before them, the bang of the door, Valygar striding across the yard towards them.

'Ajantis, Adril is awake now. He is asking for you.'

'My thanks; I should go and speak with him.'

The paladin dropped from the wall, Valygar waiting until Ajantis had entered the house before he began.

'Are you-' he cut himself off with a humourless snort, 'I had been about to finish, 'well', but why waste my breath? Are any of us? We have murdered men who were trying only to defend their lands –however we were tricked, they are still dead.'

'Indeed,' Anomen agreed sullenly, knowing his spite was unwarranted even as he added, 'I would I had Sir Ajantis's faith. A simple prayer to Helm: a cure-all for the soul.'

And his rancour had not gone unnoticed.

'That is a bitter disparagement of the act from a man of your faith, cleric!'

'I know. And I shame myself to say it, but my heart is still heavy with the feeling. I have murdered men and I cannot even bring myself to pray for them.'

Valygar was frowning. 'You are losing your faith?'

'No…' Anomen answered slowly, glad for the directness of his question making him finally assess his feelings. 'I live my life in Helm's ideals; I worship Him because I believe in His teachings and in the values for which He stands, but I can no longer just sing some hymn to the glory of His name and feel that everything will work out for the best. Perhaps, it is as you say; the gods do not care, at least not in any way we can understand.' Anomen turned back to the sky, his eyes finding again the soaring kite. 'My faith used to be the answer to everything, now it just helps me endure the questions.'

'Perhaps, that is as it should be,' said Valygar stoically. The knight just sighed, resigned to feeling wretched for a good while longer.

Before them, the bang of the door sounded once more. Anomen glanced back, expecting Ajantis or one of the others and was surprised to see Fritha there, leaning heavily on Jaheira's staff and well wrapped up in coat and cloak. Anomen was on his feet instantly, Valygar exchanging a polite nod with the girl as they passed each other, the ranger making himself scarce and returning to the house as Fritha arrived at his side.

'Hello, Anomen.'

'Fritha, dearest, should you be out here?'

'Well, should or shouldn't, I am. Oh, don't fret,' she scolded at his worried look, 'I'm all closed up and tightly bound, plus…' she smiled, pulling a large splinter of wood from her pocket, 'I've a souvenir.'

Anomen just tutted at her, still frowning as he helped her take a seat on the wall before returning to his place next to her, Fritha letting him arrange his cloak over both of them with a minimum of eye rolling.

'So, how are you feeling, Fritha?'

She shrugged, undoing his last few moments' work as one corner of his cloak slipped from her shoulder.

'A bit sore; Jaheira covered the wound with that numbing paste of hers. My head is killing me from the ether, though. But, bar that and me having a hole in my stomach I could fit my own hand in, I'm fine.'

'You speak of it so lightly.'

'The pain was intense, but fleeting. I have certainly had worse in my time.'

'Irenicus,' he confirmed, a faint sick feeling bubbling within his stomach as he thought of the girl at the wizard's mercies, but Fritha merely shrugged again.

'Yes, I suppose.'

'You _suppose_? Fritha, he tortured you!'

'I know I said he tortured me, but it didn't feel like torture. Well, I mean, of course, it _felt_ like torture, but he always called them experiments… I think they were too, and the knowledge somehow made it easier to bear. Like soon he would find out what he needed to know and it would be over.'

Anomen frowned. 'Over? How so?'

'That he would release me, or kill me. I didn't really mind which at certain times. Don't get me wrong,' she smiled at his horrified look, 'it did affect me… when we'd first left, I was petrified by the idea that he would somehow come back for me. I used to awake all in a start, half-expecting to find myself on the straw-strewn metal floor of that cage. But time passed and the fears waned. He is imprisoned in this asylum, as is Imoen, though I doubt _he_ has anyone who cares enough to go and fetch him out. But how are you?' she continued with a concerned frown, 'Are you worried what the Order are going to say about all of this?'

'We were tricked; it was not our fault and I do not believe the Order will see differently.'

'Then why are you still sat out here alone?'

'I- I did not want to be in that house, with its stink of blood and ether.' He dipped his face, feeling foolish. 'I cannot bear it when you are wounded.'

Fritha smiled. 'Well, I can't say I much like it either.'

'No, I… you are so alive, Fritha, you survive so much; foolish though it is, I come to think of you as invincible –that harm will always just pass you by. I do not know what I would do if you were…' He trailed off and she patted his hand gently.

'Best not to think on such things, Anomen, when they are usually outside of our control.'

Anomen was staring at her, a strange light to his eyes as though he was very far away; the complete reverse to his face, which seemed to be growing closer by the moment. Fritha felt her heart begin to quicken, seemingly frozen by her own indecision as he closed in, and she could feel his warm breath against her face when a shout split the air.

Anomen whipped round. 'It was from behind the house!'

'Go on then!' snapped Fritha, practically shoving him off the wall, 'I can't run like this!'

The man was gone, drawing his mace as he pounded across the yard, Fritha following him at a hurried limp and she rounded the house to find the backyard surrounded by a half-dozen orcs, a scarlet-robed mage at their centre. Her own companions were arranged before the house, Anomen just before her, while Aerie and Jaheira were at back door, the wounded Fashir sat on the back step, Ajantis stood next to him with Lewis. The mage had been answering Jaheira's demands as to his identity, though his attention shifted to her the instant Fritha appeared around the corner. He smiled.

'Ah and so she arrives, the true prey of this hunt. Lord Jierdan sends his greetings, Fritha.'

'What? _Me?_' she cried as all eyes turned to her, 'What possible quarrel could Jierdan have with me? I don't even know the man.'

'He has his reasons and perhaps he will share them with you when he has finished ruining your reputation.'

'_Ruining my reputation?_' Fritha snorted with a wild disbelief, 'Oh, ow, ow -don't make me laugh, it hurts. And how _exactly_ does he hope to do that? Everyone already knows I'm a Bhaalspawn.'

Everyone in the city that was, the stifled gasps and shared looks of those about them indicating it was still news to some. Fritha frowned, her temper rising. 'All this, the death of all those people for some slight I don't even recall? If he's that angry with me, why not just kill me?'

The mage sniffed at this talk of such unsophisticated revenge.

'Death is retribution that can be enjoyed only once and Lord Jierdan now watches with amusement as your reputation lies in tatters and you die a public death over and over. I wonder how far Garren's goodwill will stretch when he finds you have lost his only child.'

'_No!_' cried Fritha, lunging forward to grab the boy, but the mage was too quick, Lewis disappearing in a puff of acid green smoke. The mage was gone as well, leaving the orcs to their imminent deaths, the time they had spent speaking allowing the rest of her friends a chance to move around from the front of the house. It was slaughter. The yard was a chaos of bodies and blood, the orcs no match for their numbers or skill. The place where the mage had stood was clear of both though, a charred circle burnt onto the stony ground, a neat scroll of parchment lain innocently within. Valygar tapped it with his blade's tip before seemingly deciding it was no threat, the man stooping to catch it up and hand it straight to Fritha.

'It's addressed to you.'

Fritha broke the seal to unfurl the roll of parchment, eyes flying over the spidery hand. 'It says if we want to see the boy alive again, we must face Jierdan at the northern ruins -whatever they are.'

'There are the ruins of an ancient temple just to the northeast of here,' provided Ajantis, 'barely a half hour's walk at a good pace.'

'Good. Gather your arms and assemble in the front yard; we leave in a quarter hour.'

'What?' cried Jaheira, already at her arm, '_You_ are not going! Fritha, you can barely walk!'

Fritha clenched her hand about the parchment, drawing resolve from it; there was no _way_ she was being left behind in this.

'Don't exaggerate; I can walk fine!'

'Fritha-'

'No, I am going! The note was addressed to me. Jierdan's quarrel, all this, is directed at me and he's not going to be satisfied until he's crowed about his _vengeance_ to my face.'

It seemed no one could argue with that and it was decided, their group dividing once more, Fashir and Adril to stay at the house to keep an eye on the still unconscious Wilhelm and await Garren's return, while Ajantis joined her own companions in this long overdue meeting with Jierdan. They were gathering in the front yard, Ajantis leading Fritha to just beyond the gate and raising a hand to the two broken pillars that just crested the north-eastern cliffs, both the same pale brown stone as the rest of the Windspears, and Fritha wondered if she would have even noticed them, if the paladin had not pointed them out.

'There, my lady, the ruins have their entrance in a small ravine just beyond those cliffs.'

'Then that is where we go.'

Their group set off, Jaheira's staff now returned to the druid, Fritha taking the aid of a long pole, likely a spare handle to a rake or other tool, that Minsc had found for her in the barn. The journey was still hard though, the pass up through the cliffs narrow and steep, Valygar and Minsc scouting ahead to check for ambushes and it was at least an hour later before they were stood before the temple mouth.

It had clearly been an impressive building once and, in a way, it still was, a huge archway set into the very cliffs, draconic characters decorating the curve, though they were too worn to make out. The two stone pillars that Ajantis had shown her were either side of it and stood free of the entrance, both of a thickness that made Fritha suspect they had once risen to a height well above the cliffs, a marker for the temple that could have been seen for miles around. Before each was a shorter pedestal set with the bust of some arcane creature, both so worn by wind and rain Fritha could not identify them, though she was pretty sure that at one point they had borne a _lot _of teeth.

The two stone doors were off their hinges, fallen haphazardly across the entrance in such a way as to leave a narrow gap that all could fit through, though some more easily that others.

'Why here?' whispered Aerie of no one particular as she followed Minsc into the gloom of the hallway beyond. 'If he is a lord, why not have us meet him at some secluded house or lodge? Why some drafty old temple?'

'Boo says secrets are not secrets once another knows of them.'

'Indeed,' agreed Ajantis, 'houses and lodges need hands to maintain them; I doubt he would wish for his people to discover he is using kidnapping and terror to suppress those he should serve.'

Fritha followed them along the wide corridor, the air dry and cold, her feet rasping on the sandy tiles where the dust had been blown in from outside by the whining winds. A few paces more and the hall opened out to a large square room, another doorway directly opposite, while two staircases either side of them swept up to the gallery that ran about the edge of the floor above, the balcony supported by four large pillars carved in the likeness of men with spears, swords and, strangest of all, wings.

'Ah, listen to that!' exclaimed the tiefling, 'There are better acoustics here than in the theatre!' He grinned, drawing a deep breath to call out over the room. _'Ladies and gentlemen!_'

'Keep your voice down!' hissed Jaheira angrily; Haer'Dalis turned a puzzled frown on the druid.

'Why? This Jierdan knows we are to attend him; it is only courtesy to let him know we are here. _Hello there?_'

A low growl answered him.

All heads whipped to the right-hand balcony to greet the flurry of arrows. Anomen instantly pulled Fritha under his shield, the man rough in his haste, Aerie throwing a barrier over herself, Jaheira and Haer'Dalis, while Minsc, Valygar and Ajantis were already pounding up the steps to dispatch the small group of orcs. The creatures were ill-equipped to fight at close range and the fight was over before it had really begun, the men walking back down to the ground floor, Anomen already crouched before Fritha, the girl perched on the plinth of the nearest pillar and grey with the pain as she pressed her stomach.

'Ah, Fritha, I am sorry, dearest –here, let me see.'

'No, it's all right,' she gasped, waiting for the fierce ache to subside, 'just let me catch my breath.'

Jaheira watched them with a frown, clearly biting her tongue against an '_I told you so'_.

'Why these pointless attacks?' cried Aerie, seemingly distressed by the slaughter, 'Those orcs must have known they could not match us.'

Jaheira nodded. 'It is as though this Jierdan does not want to stop our progress, merely make it a frustration.'

'Boo says it is working,' growled Minsc.

'We should set to exploring this place,' said Ajantis, Valygar a step ahead and knelt in the mouth of the doorway opposite.

'And these should help. Tracks,' he explained to the group that had gathered about him, the dusty tiles at his feet decorated with a pattern of sweeps and scuffs. 'Someone was dragged this way.'

Fritha felt her stomach drop. 'Dragged?'

Valygar smiled slightly. 'Yes, kicking and screaming by the look of it.'

Fritha felt weak with relief, Ajantis frowning into darkness before them.

'It could lead to a trap; we should be on our guard.'

It seemed there was little left to guard against though. They followed the tracks, moving deeper into that maze of gloomy corridors until there was not even the distant howling of the wind to break the stillness, the silent hallways rather eerie in the flickering glow of their werelights. They passed rooms now and then, and even a kitchen that looked to have been used recently -likely by the orcs from the smell, though they met with no more of the creatures and Fritha was just beginning to worry that this _was_ all some elaborate trap to get them to leave Garren's house unattended for some nefarious reason, when a cry echoed in the room before her.

Fritha quickened her pace, hurrying after those who were already through the doorway to find herself in a small plain room, two cells set into the right wall, young Lewis pressed eagerly against the bars of the first.

'Oh, Mistress Jaheira and Sir Anomen, oh, I'm so glad you came!'

'Lewis, are you unharmed?' asked Jaheira. The lad nodded.

'Yes, my lady, though the door is locked and the mage said only he could open it.'

'Boo says we will see about that!'

'No, Minsc, it will likely be warded; you'll only hurt yourself.'

But it seemed Jaheira's words had held enough sting, the Rashemi looking broken-hearted as he lowered his boot.

'I don't understand it,' Lewis continued, trying to point to the dark archway at the end of the cells. 'The mage just put me in here hours ago and then disappeared off through that door. I haven't seen anyone since.'

'Don't worry, Lewis,' Fritha assured him, pushing a well-padded arm through the bars to pat his shoulder, 'We'll be back with the key, I promise.'

Small as the doorway was, the room it opened on to was vast, a great gloomy cavern, the only feature a set of wide stone steps that led down into the darkness. Down and down they made their descent, walking for so long Fritha felt they should emerge in the Underdark itself. It was certainly dark enough, the light of the room above them long faded, their werelights extinguished to ensure none were alerted to their presence, when, at last, the glimmer of torches below them and they stepped down into a huge chamber, the ceiling so high as to be lost in shadow, two rows of great stone pillars disappearing up into gloom.

Fritha's eyes caught immediately on the scarlet robes of the mage, the girl initially pleased to find him alone, when the dark shape behind him moved. It was something so large, her eyes had disregarded it at first glance, the torchlight catching on the glimmer of scales as the form twisted and unfurled to finally rear up into an enormous red dragon. Everyone stopped as one, frozen in their shock; a reaction that seemed only to amuse the creature, the mage trotting along next to him as the dragon moved his gargantuan bulk over to them on colossal clawed feet.

'Welcome, Fritha, you came as I wanted. I am Lord Jierdan, though _you_ may use my given name,' he smiled broadly, showing both rows of sharp ivory teeth, 'Firkraag.'

Ajantis was astounded. '_You_ are Lord Jierdan?'

'Indeed, I am, knightling. Are you still so bent on taking your _justice?_'

Ajantis looked suddenly even _more_ keen on showing the creature the error of his evils, Fritha forestalling the predictable tirade.

'If you are Lord Jierdan then why did you bring me here? Why trick us into fighting with the militia?'

Firkraag chuckled amiably. 'Why, to ruin your reputation, of course! Did Conster not tell you?'

A brief glance to the mage, the man hastening to make his reply. 'Master, I-'

'Though all did not quite go as I had hoped,' continued Firkraag over him, 'all the militia were supposed to die at your hands, leaving none to back up your tales of illusions and trickery, but once I saw you were in danger of dying, godchild, I had to lift the illusion. It is not much of a game if we lose the main player, after all.'

The aching hole in Fritha's stomach had never felt like such a blessing.

'Well, yes, but why did you want to ruin me?'

The dragon sighed, seemingly rather bored, as though the fun part was clearly over with, if they had reached the exposition.

'For my amusement, for my curiosity, for my memory of transgressions long since past.'

'Transgressions?'

'Indeed, godchild. Gorion raised you; he was as much your father as anyone. He was also an adventurer in his day and crossed my path long ago, he and his _Harper _friends -I still bear the scars of that meeting. He is beyond my revenge, dead as he is, so I settle for the next best thing. I can torment his spirits by tormenting you. Wherever he is now, he is _seething_.'

Fritha sincerely doubted that after what Irenicus and Sarevok had managed between them, Gorion would even be sparing the dragon a thought, though she kept that to herself.

'That's it? That's the reason? Then why go to all this trouble? You could have ruined me similarly in the city.'

'Yes, but I did so wish to meet you in my true form, Fritha. I had even toyed with the idea of forgetting the transgression, but it was your other father who spurred me on. You are a Child of Bhaal. What a fascinating subject to study; I will admit I anticipate your future conflicts with great interest. But for now, I will taunt you no more. You may take the boy and go.'

The objections to this were immediate.

'But, Master-!'

'We are just to _leave?_'

'One at a time please, children,' cut in Fritha, turning to the paladin at her side, 'Ajantis?'

'My lady, we cannot let this monster live!'

'Are you so ready to face death again?' Fritha laughed, Jaheira adding sternly, 'Now is not the time or place for this battle and we have a duty to return the boy to his father.'

Ajantis seemed to wrestle with himself a moment before he slowly nodded, blue eyes blazing as he returned them to Firkraag. 'We will return for you, dragon!'

Firkraag looked predictably _terrified._

'Yes, yes, now what was it you were bleating about, Conster?'

'The boy, master,' whined the mage like some petulant child who had been promised a treat, 'you said I was to keep him as a slave. These orcs do more harm than good in my lab, the clumsy beasts!'

'Hmm, did I agree to that?' teased Firkraag, 'I suppose I did. Very well, you will fight for the boy. Let the winner take him.'

Valygar had released an arrow before Conster could even raise his hands. Fritha sent the ranger a wry look.

'You were just waiting for that, weren't you?'

Valygar just laughed.

'Well, that decided the thing,' Firkraag murmured, lowering his head to examine the shaft that was sticking from the chest of who had once been his mage, the dragon sounding rather disappointed by the lack of spectacle, 'The door should be open now. Farewell.'

xxx

At least one of them was happy. Garren was back at the house by the time they returned, the man overjoyed at being reunited with his son. Lewis himself seemed quite unharmed for his ordeal as they all gathered in the main room of the lodge, the boy laughing as his father embraced him for what was likely the twentieth time and affectionately ruffled his hair.

'Ah, my son, to think I almost lost you and now you are back here safely –well, as safe as we could ever be with the threat of such a monster hanging over us…'

'You will not have to suffer such for much longer,' assured Ajantis grimly, 'I will send word to the Order as soon as I am returned to the fort. We will take a whole battalion to end Firkraag's evil!'

'Indeed, I will rejoice the day when it comes, but for now let us take joy in this small victory. Come, tonight we celebrate!' Garren announced, moving off into the kitchen to no doubt begin his preparations. Aerie smiled as Haer'Dalis snaked an arm about her, the elf happy all had worked out so well for the pair, her attention drawn to her side as Fritha let her bag drop from her shoulder with a wince. Anomen frowned.

'How is your stomach?'

'Ah, more stiff than anything,' she dismissed, though the man clearly had no intention of just taking her word for it.

'Here, let me.'

And Aerie watched as he laid a hand over it, pressing here and there as the girl winced and hissed.

'It is bleeding more heavily than I'd like, the bandages should be changed again before you sleep.'

'I bet you say that to all the girls,' Fritha muttered flatly, 'come on then.'

'Ah, perhaps,' Anomen faltered, glancing to Aerie before he seemed to realise Fritha had already disappeared into the bedroom, 'Ah, right.'

Aerie hid her laugh in her sleeve, everyone settling down in the main room as Lewis helped his father by serving the tea. Adril and Jude had already been out on Garren's return to collect their comrades, the bodies lain respectfully in the barn to await the time they could be returned to their families, and even in those grim circumstances spirits were high. Fritha and Anomen returned not long afterwards, and the group shared the tale of Lewis's capture and their meeting with Firkraag with the astounded men of the militia. The general opinion amongst the men seemed to hold that once this news got about, Jierdan would be accepted as lord of the Windspears no longer, Fashir hinting that perhaps Garren might want to take up his old title, though the older man said nothing, just returned to the kitchen and his cooking.

Garren's means may have been poor, but his hospitality was second to none, the man setting a feast of rabbit, pigeon and other game before them, as well as breads and cheeses, and Aerie wondered if the man had any food left in his pantry. A fire was roaring in the grate, the party growing louder as the ale Garren brewed in the warmth of his barn was shared out. Aerie though had decided to stay with the tea she had been drinking earlier, the elf rather enjoying the raucous banter about her, though it was not for all, it seemed. Fritha was sat next to her in the circle and glaring into her untouched dish, seemingly wilting, though whether from the heat or the good humour, Aerie did not like to guess.

'Fritha, are you all right?'

The girl glanced up distractedly. 'Sorry? Oh, fine, fine. Just a bit warm. I might go and stand in the kitchen for a moment.'

Fritha rose, leaving the noise of the main room for the relative peace of the kitchens, though with Garren still fussing over the oven, and Lewis filling a jug with the next batch of homebrew, it was hardly the quiet she sought. The back door was open, the cold air pleasant against her hot face, the dark yard beyond promising much more and before she knew it she had grabbed up the worn old coat that was hanging on the hook by the door and had slipped outside, the girl walking around the side of the house and past the barn to the front yard. And there she stood, gazing up at more stars than she could count in a thousand lifetimes, feeling small and insignificant and full of tears. Distant mountains loomed on the horizon, the cliffs they had been stood upon just hours before black against the night's sky. An explosion of laughter in the home behind her, bright and warm, and suddenly she was off, marching through the open gate, the cold wind whipping around her as she set off up rocky slope.

**…**

'Who goes there?' he boomed, his voice all growl and smoky bluster, 'Do not think to surprise me, I can hear your footsteps.'

Fritha smiled to herself, at last stepping from the shadows of that gloomy stairwell to let the light of the torches fall upon her.

'Hello, Firkraag, it is just I.'

'You?' he growled, though there was no anger in it, the dragon lowering his head to get a better look at her as she limped down the last few steps into that vast chamber. 'What are you doing back here?'

Fritha smiled. 'I just wanted to talk to you, I suppose.'

'Well, I bare _you_ nothing but ill will.'

'Really? I wouldn't have thought you'd have cared enough even for that.'

Firkraag watched her, his look unreadable. 'I could kill you.'

But Fritha just shrugged her acceptance of this risk and the dragon chuckled slightly, narrowing a large yellow eye at her.

'Well, I _am_ surprised to see you here and it is rare that one as old and powerful as I gets to enjoy the sensation, so I suppose I could tolerate your presence -for a short time. So, godchild,' Firkraag continued, two rows of glossy white teeth bared in a smug smile, 'why have you returned? To cry about how I have wronged you perhaps?'

'Wronged me?' repeated Fritha, 'How so? Oh, I will not deny you encouraged the situation. I mean, you made us and those men look as orcs and you took away Garren's child. But you did not make those men attack us and the child was merely a device to lure us here and he was returned home safe and sound.'

'Do you forget so easily your ruined reputation?'

Fritha smiled gently. 'As I already told your mage, I'm afraid the Harpers rather beat you to that.'

'And the coin I promised you?'

'Yes,' Fritha sighed, 'of all your betrayals that one stung the most. But it is pointless to stay angry about it, not unless I plan to be angry at the Cowled Wizards for taking Imoen or at the Shadow Thieves for charging a dragon's hoard for her return. I haven't the energy to maintain such pointless ire; it would be like raging at the ocean when your ship sinks.'

'You may be indifferent, godchild,' Firkraag pressed, clearly still trying to find some open wound to stab at, 'but this is all but another trial in Garren's torment.'

'He can come up here and get himself chewed up then! I'm tired of fighting other people's battles for them. Besides,' Fritha continued, calm once more, 'Ajantis has plans to return to the Order and bring a whole battalion up here for you –just to give you fair warning.'

Firkraag shifted his wings in what could have been a shrug. 'Such an outcome was not unexpected… Why are you here, Fritha?'

'I don't know. I was stood outside looking at the cliffs, dark against the indigo sky, the broken pinnacles of your temple like black sails in that sea of stars, and I just thought to come and visit you. We killed your pet mage and the few orcs left are hardly likely to provide witty repartee; even dragons can get lonely, or at least bored… just as essentially good people can sometimes feel an unbearable hatred for their friends.' Fritha dropped her face, ashamed of her honesty as she admitted, 'Their laughter is like knives sometimes; hypocritical, I know, since I laugh more than anyone.'

'But you're only laughing because you know what the joke is…'

Fritha sighed and sank wearily onto the steps behind her, feeling like she would never have the energy to stand again. Firkraag watched her with fathomless yellow eyes.

'And do they know of this? The druid, the witch… the _knight_,' he chuckled as Fritha's head whipped up, 'Yes, I noticed him, even in the brief time you were here in my domain… He will betray you, you know?'

Fritha laughed lightly. '_Betray_ me? How can he when he doesn't owe me anything? We are destined to part just as soon as Imoen is back with me; Anomen knows this as well as I.'

But Firkraag just smiled, broad and slow, leaving her with the distinct impression he knew different.

'Ah, yes, Imoen; I know of your search for her, but if you think the mages will relinquish her so easily you are mistaken. Though I do wonder what you intend once you have retrieved her.'

Fritha sent the dragon a contemplative look. 'You already know what will happen, don't you?'

'I have lived a long time, I can make an educated guess.'

'Then why ask if you already know?'

Firkraag smiled. 'I know what will happen, yes, but what _you_ think will happen remains a mystery. What do you plan?'

Fritha gave a wistful trill of laughter. 'They say the gods laugh when they hear your plans.'

'Indeed they do, child, but humour me. What are yours once you have your friend?'

'What do you think?'

'I think… you will flee.'

'You are damn right I will! So far and fast Death himself couldn't catch me!'

They both laughed at that, Fritha's laughter almost lost in Firkraag's growling guttural chuckles, the sound rising up with the haze of smoke from his nostrils.

'You are quite the cleverest mortal I have come across in a long while. Yes, I can see much of your father in you.'

'Er, which one?'

'I speak of the Harper, Gorion. Though I wonder now, how pleased he would be with _that_ association.'

Fritha barked a bitter laugh. 'Ha! Don't even get me started on the bloody Harpers. But what of Gorion? He never mentioned any fights with dragons, though he did have quite a bad burn scarring the skin all up his right leg. He told me he had once rolled into a campfire when very drunk, but it was part of a lecture I was receiving for trying to break into the local tavern's cellar with Imoen, so I was never really sure if it was the truth or not.'

Firkraag was chuckling again, the smug look back on his face.

'Yes, that was I, godchild. At the time, I had made a lair up in the Stormhorn Mountains, convincing a few of the local orc tribes I was a god of ancient power, and I was soon quite comfortable lain in my cave watching my hoard grow as the orcs pillaged the local villages and farmsteads to tithe their spoils to me. Harpers came to investigate the reason behind the orcs so far unprecedented unity, and when they discovered it was I who was behind the foolish creatures' renewed aggression, they laid a trap for me. They mapped the caverns that were my lair, blocking off all routes of escape before making their attack. They fought hard, pressing me back into the caverns where I still believed I could make my escape if need be, forcing me deeper into the mountain into the cave at the centre of my lair, and it was _then_ I saw their true intent. The only other way out flooded and barrels of black powder set all about the cave, enough to bring down the whole roof if set off together. But that cavern would _not_ be my tomb and I renewed my fight! The Harpers had surrounded me, their weapons the maddening bite of insects as their fellows moved to light the barrels. I knew the chance was slim, but I would not be vanquished as I closed upon the barrel nearest to the only way out and drew a great breath to set it ablaze myself. All scattered from my path, desperate to get away before my fires consumed them, only one foolish enough to try to stop me. That boy, Gorion, the mageling stood there, his staff aloft. Impudent wretch! His magic may have shielded the barrel, but it could not cover them both, and I had the last laugh as I swept past him, his fellows too occupied to halt me as they rushed to douse him, the lad struggling to strip from his flaming robes.'

Fritha knew she probably should not be laughing, but the image of the young Gorion making such a reckless mistake -indeed, one worthy of _herself_- had warmed her, and she had never felt quite such an affinity with the man as then, as she snickered and laughed at his folly. Fritha sighed, her laughter finally faded, the girl dusting off her knees and shrugging the overly large coat back onto her shoulders as she eased herself to her feet.

'Ah, I should likely get back to the others. They will only worry if they notice me gone. Goodnight, Firkraag.'

The dragon said nothing, just curled his tail about him and settled back down upon the cold stone tiles to sleep or scheme or mull over ages past. Such a rare ancient creature in that world of growing cities and changing times, where the old ways seemed to be a dying breed, and, in spite of everything, Fritha hoped he would be gone when the Order next arrived.


	82. The thaw

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Baldur's Gate', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**The thaw**

The next day found the weather fine and bright, especially for the season, the sky overhead as blue and clear as an ocean. In fact, Ajantis and the others of the militia had left for the fort with the dawn, but neither this, nor Fritha's _resounding_ insistences that she was well enough to travel would persuade the druid of setting out back to the city. The weather was still harsh and liable to change, and Jaheira did not want the girl going anywhere until she was much more healed. And, for once, it looked as though Fritha was to be outvoted; Anomen, Aerie and even Minsc all lending their voices in support of the druid's decision. Not that Fritha was about to let these overwhelming odds put her off trying.

'But, Jaheira, seriously, we can leave,' the girl pressed, stalking the woman across the backyard, Fritha having spent the last quarter hour pleading with the druid as she'd followed her about the yard hunting out eggs from Garren's few hens. 'I'll be fine. I mean, think about it: I almost fought a dragon as I am now.'

'As I am well aware, and _much_ against my better judgement too.'

'But think of Garren,' Fritha continued, changing tack with the speed of one well used to arguing to get her way, 'the longer we stay here, the more of his winter supplies are eroded –his generosity far outstrips his means.'

The way Jaheira was smiling showed Fritha that she already had _that_ covered though, the druid looking rather pleased with herself.

'Indeed, and so that is why Minsc, Valygar and I are going out with Garren and his son to hunt deer in the western forests. It would usually be a difficult kill to make and carry back with only the two of them, but together we should be able to get enough meat to last them the whole winter. We will be gone overnight.'

Fritha stopped at the back door, her stomach suddenly empty as she watched the woman carefully set down her dish to remove her boots, the treasure of eggs rolling precariously within.

'So, you're not only making me stay, but you're all going off and leaving me _too?_'

'You will not be alone. Aerie, Haer'Dalis and Anomen are staying here to-'

'Play at nursemaid! I hate this! I just want to get back to the city!'

Jaheira clucked her tongue, gathering up the dish with a smile. 'Ah, listen to you sulk; are you twenty or twelve?'

'I'm _sick_ of trying my best and getting nowhere!'

For the first time in their argument, Jaheira looked sympathetic; unfortunately, it was too late.

'Fritha-'

'Oh, do what you will,' the girl snapped, kicking off her own boots and pushing past her, 'I don't care.'

Fritha stormed through the main room and into Garren's bedroom to slam the door behind her. The floor was littered with their packs, her group and the militia having spent the night camped in there and the main room, and she picked her way over to her own bag, still resting under the window where she had slept the night, the girl untying her bedroll to curl upon it, her cloak hood pulled up and hiding her from the world.

Jaheira didn't understand, none of them did. This trick of Firkraag's was just another setback, another cruel blow that took them right back to their beginnings, and Fritha was so desperate to get back to city and continue pushing forward to raise this last bit of coin, because it felt as though if she stopped for too long now, she would just never manage to continue.

xxx

Anomen sat in the kitchen, his armour stripped down and set out on the table before him as he checked and cleaned each piece. He had heard their argument earlier and Fritha had not come out to see the others off, Jaheira going in Garren's room alone and merely returning with her own, Valygar and Minsc's bags not long afterwards. He could understand the girl's frustration. They were to return to the city not ready to pay the Shadow Thieves' fee and finally secure her friend's release, but little better off than when they had left it.

Aerie and Haer'Dalis had spent the rest of the day since the others left, sat by the fire together in the main room talking softly, and Anomen waited in the kitchen until the sun had passed over the small cabin and was on its slow descent in the west, before he ventured into the bedroom they had all been sharing. Fritha was laid upon her bedding with her back to the door, though she was not asleep, her hands playing with something at her neck. He toyed briefly with the idea of quietly backing out again, though she sat at the groan of the door, turning to greet him with a half-smile.

'So, you did not wish to go with them then?' she confirmed as he took a seat on the floor behind her, a hand planted at her side and taking his weight as he leaned forward to see her face. 'I'm sure they would have welcomed your skills, woodsman or not; imagine the glory of slaying the mighty hart.'

Anomen watched her theatrics with narrowed eyes and a slight smile. 'Perhaps so, but I would have spent the entirety worrying for your well-being. I know Aerie and Haer'Dalis would have been with you, and you yourself are hardly incapable, but I would prefer to be here all the same.'

'I wonder, then, what quest of glory it _will_ take to draw you from my side, if not that? Rescuing a stuck cat perhaps? Helping a merchant fix his cart wheel?'

'_Fritha…_' he warned.

'I'm just _wondering_,' she whined defensively, though he could still see the sly smile that lingered behind it, the girl turning her attentions to the hand that almost encircled her, pale fingers reaching forward to play with the large square signet ring on his thumb, the three crossed arrows of House Delryn carved upon the face. 'I have not noticed this before.'

'No, it is the seal of my house. Both my sister and I had one, but I would not wear mine after I left for the seminary. My mother scolded me about it more than once; she said that it was a sign of my heritage, that I could be proud of my family even if I was not on good terms with my father. I did not realise at the time, but she was right. They are all dead on my father's side, but I believe I've some relatives still living on my mother's -I remember her receiving letters from her brother when I was younger, and he and _thier _mother visited Athkatla just after Moira was born, though I do not think my grandmother still lives. I never really thought of them before, but perhaps, when all this is over, I will make efforts to reacquaint myself with them.'

Anomen watched her, Fritha still playing with the ring, twisting it back and forth on his finger, a slight frown of concentration on her face. He wanted to ask her if she would come with him, but he said nothing. He had known when they had begun this, that it was to be fleeting, that she would likely leave once Imoen was back and he had promised himself he would accept things for however long they lasted and then let her go.

'I am sure your mother would be pleased you are wearing it now,' she murmured, glancing up with a sudden smile. 'Come on, let's see what those two are up to.'

But it turned out that 'those two' were locked in a passionate clinch, the pair curled within the same armchair, kissing, and so enthusiastically, they had not even heard the door open.

Fritha sighed. 'Gods, I wish I was drunk.'

Anomen nodded gravely. 'Aye.'

'Break it up, you two,' Fritha continued brusquely, the pair springing apart as she marched past them on her way to the kitchen, 'I'm not enduring an evening of this.'

Aerie gave the man she was sat upon a grin, briefly touching her lips to his in one last kiss before she had hopped up, following Fritha into the kitchen, the girl stepping from the larder with a large joint of cured meat.

'We should make a start on supper. Jaheira said she set aside some pork, but it will need to boil awhile to take out most of the salt, or it will be inedible. Anomen,' Fritha continued with a tut, her frown falling on the kitchen table which was still covered in row upon row of his neatly set out gear.

'I'll, er, just clear that away,' he muttered, stooping for his bag.

'And don't leave your books like that,' she scolded quite seriously, waving a finger at his journal which he had left open and face down upon the table, 'you'll ruin the spine.'

Haer'Dalis shot the knight a dark look as Fritha turned her attention to the fireplace. 'Hmm, perhaps something terrible has happened to our druid; the raven seems to be channelling her as we speak.'

'I _heard_ that. Has someone been out to feed Toffee?' Fritha continued, dropping the joint into the large pot Aerie had hurriedly fetched down from the shelf above the range.

'Yes, yes, my raven,' Haer'Dalis agreed, eager to appease, 'and he is quite well –he said to give you his regards.'

Fritha laughed lightly, catching up the bucket to head out for some water, Anomen taking it from her a second later and leaving her to the less arduous task of digging their tea leaves from his pack. And it made for quite a nice afternoon, all sat about the kitchen table drinking tea and slowly preparing the vegetables in the fading light, as the meat simmered over the fire.

Anomen and Fritha were talking quietly over the other side of the table, the man seemingly asking her where she had learnt to cook as she chopped carrots at a furious speed. Aerie smiled, checking on the progress of the man next to her, she and Haer'Dalis playfully racing each other as they peeled and sliced the few sprouting potatoes Fritha had fetched from the larder, giggling and nudging each other as they worked. And from the look of things, Haer'Dalis was winning, though only just.

'Haer'Dalis, that's cheating!' Aerie laughed as he threw his potato into the pot between them, peeled but still quite whole, and caught up the last to ensure his triumph.

'Ah, come now, Aerie, all's fair. And a kiss for the victor, I think.'

He leaned in, the beginning of it feeling awkward as Aerie fought against a smile.

'Ah, gods, must you?' sighed Fritha, wincing into her carrots, 'My stomach feels bad enough as it is.'

Haer'Dalis chuckled -_eventually_; he had been in no hurry for them to part.

'My raven, so cold, so cold -where is your sense of romance?'

'Hah! Romance, indeed!' the girl snorted, 'Do you know what romance is? All those feelings and butterflies? It's just Nature's way of making intensely embarrassing situations bearable. Otherwise, it's just your tongue in someone else's mouth.'

'Fritha!' cried Aerie and Anomen in unison, Haer'Dalis laughing wildly.

'Ah, my raven, your view of the world never ceases to amuse. But what about your poor knight -I bet _he_ is not averse to a bit of _kissing_.'

Anomen spluttered into his leeks, Fritha offering casually, 'Perhaps not, though I think he'd have _quite_ a bit to say against me trying to eat his face. Here, Aerie dear, have a carrot if you're that hungry.'

'Oh, _Fritha,_' the elf sighed, scarlet even as she laughed, the man at her side catching up the carrot Fritha had just thrown across to bite off the end with good-humoured relish.

The water the meat was boiling in had to be changed three times, in the end, to take out most of the salt, Anomen helping Fritha to tip the last lot into the backyard, the billowing steam a dazzling cloud of gold dust in the newly lit lamps. And from there, they added the vegetables before setting it all back over the fire for one last boil, the men given the task of setting out the dishes and cups, while Fritha and Aerie sorted through the group's laundry with plans to wash it tomorrow if the weather held.

Their meal served and eaten, they cleared the dishes to spend the rest of the evening sat in the warm kitchen playing cards –that was, until Fritha began to wilt, and Anomen and Aerie insisted she retire. Fritha looked as though she would have argued, too, had she the energy for it, the girl hiding behind her sleeve for another wide yawn.

'You're all ganging up on me; it's just because I'm winning.'

'Come now, Fritha,' pressed Anomen, ever the voice of reason, 'you lost a lot of blood; it is best not overexert yourself.'

Haer'Dalis grinned. 'Aye, raven, now off you go to bed –the hound will be through in a moment to tuck you in.'

Fritha stuck her tongue out at him, Anomen shaking his head with a tired amusement as he corrected, 'Actually, I shall come through now. I want to change your bandages.'

'_Again?_' the girl cried, making for the door, 'Why? I'm not bleeding anymore.'

'No, but you will need more salve upon the wound –Jaheira left me with _strict_ instructions.'

'Well, I won't tell her, if you won't.'

The door swung shut on Anomen's reply, Aerie reaching forward to gather up the cards, Haer'Dalis shifting closer to rest his chin on her shoulder. 'And how are you, sweet Aerie? Ready for your bed? Perhaps I should check _your_ bandages?'

She squealed as two hands clamped about her waist, his tickling only made worse by her squirming as he hauled her onto his lap.

'Oh, Haer'Dalis,' she lamented, glancing back over her shoulder to find the kitchen floor decorated with Jaheira's Talis deck, 'Look at what you made me do!'

'I care not for cards,' he laughed, looking more than pleased with himself as he jogged her. Aerie pouted, though it could not hide her smile.

'You cared well enough when you were beating us all at Hearts. It's a shame what happened here, isn't it?' she sighed, shifting so she was sat across his lap, an arm about his shoulders to steady herself. 'With those men dead and Firkraag dragging us all the way here just so he can torment Fritha's dead father. At this rate, I wonder if we will have enough coin by the spring…'

Haer'Dalis shrugged. 'If that is how long it takes, then so be it.'

'I though you were wanting to get back to Sigil?'

'The Cage can wait a little while longer; it is not going anywhere.'

Aerie smiled, settling down to nestle in to his shoulder.

'Tell me about Sigil.'

He chuckled; she could feel the rumble of it in his chest.

'I've told you many a tale of Sigil!'

'No, you've told me stories set in Sigil, not about the city though. Tell me what it's like.'

'Why, Aerie? You will see it soon enough.'

'Yes, I will see it with my eyes; I want to see it with yours.'

She heard him smile, his hand moving lower to stroke the small of her back.

'Very well, my love. Where to begin? Sigil sits a top a spire, the hub of the great wheel…'

xxx

Fritha drew a deep breath and slowly opened her eyes, the room bright with the dawn, the window above her without curtains and bathing the room in a soft white light. She stretched blissfully, the twinge in her stomach making her instantly regret it, the slight pain rather spoiling what had so far been a pleasantly gentle awakening.

On the floor over the other side of the bed, two pairs of legs could be seen poking out from behind the frame, still cocooned in blankets and Fritha did not need to see the rest of them to confirm Aerie and Haer'Dalis were still asleep. And, as for Anomen…

She glanced over to the pile of empty bedding just before the chest of drawers; he was up already, it seemed. She lay in her bedding a few moments more, seeing if he was to make a reappearance, but he did not and her own boredom soon won out over her comfort, Fritha just pulling a tunic over the slip and trousers she had slept in and padding through to the kitchen. The room was icy despite the fire that was licking about the hearth, the back door thrown wide to the dawn, and there he was in the centre of the yard, pink-faced from cold and effort, knelt over Garren's large washtub, suds all up his arms and tunic, and spotted in his hair as he worked through the laundry she and Aerie had sorted out the night before.

He glanced up at the creak of the door.

'Oh, good morning, Fritha.'

There was nothing for it; Fritha burst out laughing. 'Gods, look at the state of you!'

Anomen laughed, as well, trying to brush the bubbles from his hair with his forearm.

'I had hoped to be finished before you awoke.'

Fritha wrapped her arms about herself as a gust of wind howled down the valley, sending a blizzard of suds whipping across the yard.

'I can see why! Auril's Breath, aren't you cold?'

The knight grinned. 'Not a bit; summer came in your smile.'

'_Oho_, very smooth -Haer'Dalis will be coming to you for tips soon.'

'I await the day. Are they awake yet?'

'No, still sleeping –it was Aerie's snoring that woke me, actually.'

'Fritha, go back inside; you'll get cold!' Anomen ordered, Fritha suddenly flapping her way across to him in muddy boots that were far too big and the worn old coat Garren kept by the back door.

'I thought it was summer? Here,' she smiled, dipping a hand into the tub and feeling the heat instantly suffuse through the water, 'there, at least our hands will be warm.'

After a while, Anomen gave up on trying to convince her to return to the house, and they finished the washing together, Fritha heating another batch of water with but a look to rinse the clothes, the pair busy wringing them out ready to hang upon the rope Garren had strung between two of the sheds, when Aerie and Haer'Dalis finally rose.

'Goodness, you two are full of industry!' called Aerie from the back door, 'I've just put some tea over the fire; would you like some?'

'_Yes, please,' _Fritha called back for both of them, 'Here, lower your end, Anomen,' she continued, the girl laughing as water ran down the twisted rope of saffron linen that was Aerie's dress to cascade over her arms, Fritha trying to dance out of the way without letting go. 'It's on an angle and I'm getting wet.'

It was not long before the smell of cooking was drifting about the yard, Aerie and Haer'Dalis making a start on the breakfast –well, mostly Aerie; Haer'Dalis was lending _moral_ support. Fritha and Anomen finished hanging up the washing, the assortment of clothes flapping in the brisk wind, the last of those coloured banners hung just in time to greet their friends' triumphant return - Garren, Lewis and their own companions marching down the valley, two large deer slung between them.

And the rest of the day was spent in similar activity, Valygar and Jaheira helping Garren skin and joint the beasts while Minsc and Anomen were tasked with gathering the wood and building up the pyre in the smoke hut ready to cure the meat. Fritha had been sent back to the house as soon as Jaheira had arrived, she and Aerie baking a few days' worth of bread and taking it in turns to churn some of the milk Lewis had brought from the barn into butter. It was a pleasant day of simple chores, and Fritha could see by the end of it why Garren may have been reluctant to resume his title as lord of that place.

xxx

It was the next day when Fritha was given her examination by Jaheira and finally deemed well enough to travel, and they left the holding at mid-morning, taking with them a good supply of the venison they had helped Garren catch, as well as some unleavened bread that Aerie had baked, and with that and the rations they had left over, the would have had enough to see them all the way back to city, _if_ they made good time.

A stipulation, of course, that had ensured only one thing: snow.

Two days from the Windspears it began, light at first, just frosting the rocky hills with a picturesque dusting of white. But by the afternoon, it was much steadier, the winds whipping it into fitful blizzards, and, worst of all, it was laying.

That was their second day of snow, and they were still another three from the city. Jaheira was used to living in the wilds, but last night was not an experience she ever wished to repeat. A day travelling in the snow had left everything soaked through with meltwater, and everyone colder for it, the group unable to find wood for more than a few hours of fire and they settled down after a meal of cold rations and lukewarm tea, only to be woken in the morning by the steady drip of condensation from the inside of their tents. Jaheira was just hoping that the relative warmth and shelter of the lowland forests they were to reach that evening would mean they would not have to suffer the same that night. And so she was at their head with Minsc, setting a pace east she would not have normally attempted in those conditions, spurred on by the knowledge they had only rations enough for eight days at the most, and she could just imagine everyone's mood in those last few days, if they were forced to walk though that weather on half-empty stomachs.

Not that tempers were much better then. Valygar was even more taciturn than usual, Jaheira herself biting her tongue more than once, and this last day had found Aerie whining about the weather constantly, as though Auril would finally get sick of hearing about it, and give up. Even the sanguine Fritha was snapping more than usual, though, to be fair, she had been in an odd mood since they had left the holding, and Jaheira considered that perhaps the snow was the least of her worries. To her credit, the girl was trying to keep most of it to herself though, hood up and head down, Anomen inviting the worst of her temper in his vain attempts to cheer her, seemingly no amount of advice to the contrary from she or Aerie able to quell in him the overwhelming desire to help, however clearly unwanted the attention was.

'By Baervar, when will it end?' cried the elf miserably for what had to be the hundredth time that day, the air about them suddenly a flurry of white flakes as it began to snow again. 'It already feels like we've been tramping through this snow forever.'

'Come now, sweet Aerie,' soothed Haer'Dalis, 'we will be under cover of the trees by the evening.'

'We'd be only a day from the city now, if you had all agreed to leave when _I _wanted,' Fritha reminded with a good deal of pleasure, the girl using spite to keep her warm; she clearly hadn't forgiven them all for outvoting her.

'Oh, Fritha, _don't_,' moaned Aerie. Valygar sighed tersely, shaking the snow from his hood as it caught on the laden branches above him.

'We are _all_ tired of the weather, Aerie, and it is not made any more bearable by your complaints.'

'My hound,' reproached Haer'Dalis with a frown, his argument hardly helped as the elf at his side whined piteously, '_You_ can say so- the snow is barely up to your calves –I'm the shortest of us all.'

Fritha was all too happy to correct her. 'You're not; Toffee is, and you don't hear him complaining, do you? What's that, Toffee?' she asked, cocking her head to better hear the pony she led, 'You _like_ the snow? You wish it would snow forever and _ever?_'

'Fritha!' snapped Aerie. Jaheira sighed.

'Fritha, stop being a torment; Aerie, stop whining.'

Fritha muttered something under her breath that Jaheira expected was not complimentary.

'Do not think I cannot –Halt!' the druid snapped, cutting off her own rebuke, 'We are approached.'

Nothing in her words had indicated hostility, but everyone had drawn their weapons all the same; they had all been there before. A party of ten men and women stepped from the snow-covered gorse before them. Fritha retreated a step, physically jumping as she backed into Anomen, the man slowly taking down his shield as he laid a reassuring hand upon her shoulder. Jaheira let her eyes scan the group, recognising the young mage who had been part of Reviane's party, before her attention was drawn back to their leader, a rugged half-elf with an untidy shock of dark brown hair.

'Stand down your weapons, we are not here to fight.'

No one moved, Valygar voicing coolly, 'You'll forgive us, but we have had many a battle begin with promises of negotiation.'

An uncomfortable glance between the Harpers, their leader continuing stalwartly, 'We have been sent by the seniors, Jaheira. We come to tell you the bounty has been rescinded and the charges against you dropped.'

Jaheira could hardly believe it; the plain, matter-of-fact way he just stood there and announced her pardon, as though nothing had happened. 'What? Why, after all this time?'

'We investigated and found there were discrepancies in the testimony of the sage, Ramas… He painted a picture of you both that was at odds with other reports we were later given.'

He glanced briefly to the young mage at his side, but said no more. Jaheira felt an anger, suppressed before by her guilt, slowly building within her. 'And all the while we were hunted, Harper was turned against Harper -_I was forced to kill my fellows!_'

The leader shifted, his feet betraying an otherwise composed countenance.

'Understand, we had to be sure. We know of the situation, that the one you travel with is of the Children and we do not care. Galvarey and Dermin acted alone, believing they could earn the seniors favour by apprehending an enemy of Faerûn. But their will was not that of the Harpers, and we are confident of your friend's innocence.'

'Is that so?' spat Jaheira bitterly 'And if we had fallen and Fritha had been delivered to you, you and the seniors would have tested her again and demanded her release?'

An uncomfortable silence answered her. Jaheira nodded slowly. 'I thought as much… I do not know who you are anymore, who any of you are. Perhaps it is I who have changed, but wherever the difference lies, it is there.'

Their dark-haired leader looked grave. 'You would turn your back on the Harpers?'

Jaheira merely shrugged. 'You may paint it that way if you wish, but I feel it is the Harpers who have turned their back on me. Farewell.'

She moved forward, the Harpers parting before her and in silence her companions followed.

The afternoon seemed very quiet from then on, no one comfortable speaking over a whisper. They reached the cover of the forests an hour or so later, but their hopes the lower lands had been spared the snow had been in vain, a thick blanket laying about the trunks in crisp white drifts, covering trees roots and rocks alike. They walked little further, and the dusk found them setting up what camp they could in a close grouping of firs, where the weave of branches above had spared the ground from the worst of the snows. Jaheira left the camp as soon as the tents were pitched, wading out far enough away so she could no longer hear the others, the woman just stood staring out into the dark forest, the snow covered ground looking grey and ethereal in the twilight.

'Jaheira?'

The woman glanced back to find Fritha stood a few paces behind her, hood down and a crown of snow slowly building on her head.

'How long have you been there?'

'Don't know, a little while,' she shrugged, shaking the snow from her curls to leave them beaded, here and there, with meltwater. 'Are you coming back to camp?' she continued, stepping closer to her, 'Aerie's whinging again. It wouldn't be so bad, but now Toffee has decided to join her. _This pack's heavy. Why do you have to bring so much stuff? Why do you all get tents and I have to sleep outside?_'

Jaheira smiled wryly. 'Do you never tire of playing the fool?'

'Haven't yet.'

The druid sighed, turning back to the forest before her. 'Sixteen years this autumn I would have been a Harper; longer even than I was with dear Khalid. A life of service, many good friends, all lost, all ruined by those men.' She shook her head, the bitterness of her tone but a taste of what rested in her heart. 'I _trusted_ them.'

'They believed what they were doing was right,' offered Fritha quietly. Jaheira whirled back to her, the lump in her throat distorting her cry.

'Well, they were _wrong!_'

'Oh Jaheira, please don't get upset; I'm really rubbish at comforting people,' Fritha cried, a hand rubbing her back as Jaheira dropped her face into her hands.

'Do not worry,' the woman sighed eventually, wiping away the last few tears to push her hands up through her hair, letting one arm land about the shorter girl's shoulders, 'The Harpers… they were a part of me and yet separate, as well -like an old friend. But it has been dying for so long now… perhaps it is better off out of its misery. At least, you are safe now,' she added with a smile, gently ruffling her damp hair. Fritha sighed, staring out into the dark forest as she had been.

'Doesn't feel like we won though, just feels like we finally finished losing.'

'You have been feeling similarly of late?' asked Jaheira; they may as well get both of their troubles out in the open while they were there. 'Your mood would certainly indicate it.'

The girl nodded. 'I am sorry. I am finding it hard -leaving the Windspears, knowing I must return to the city and trials I had thought finally over. I am trying to spare you all my temper though… it seems only poor Anomen is foolish enough to keep tempting it.' She raised her face, letting the snow flutter down to frost her hair and eyelashes. 'It will always be like this won't it? The moments of happiness just brief sparks in the perpetual shadow of life. Ah, let's sing a song,' she sighed, some where between wistful and despairing. 'Don't you ever feel like that? That you just have too much emotion in you, and you just need a song to get it all out.' And she turned to lead the way back to the others, her voice raised in melancholy refrain, '_Oh, fall ye snow of winter bleak, and come ye ice and cold, we've fire to keep our bodies thawed and friends to warm the soul…_'

xxx

The snows gave way to rain on the fourth day, and they arrived back in Athkatla in a fine drizzle that had begun three days ago and not ceased once. It seemed somehow appropriate. Anomen didn't think there had been a time before, when the group's spirits had been so low, their return from the Windspears made bearing not the last of their coin, but just a little more blood on their hands.

Their pony already safely installed in the local stables, they had trudged the rest of the way through the slums under heavy packs, the streets a mire of grit and water. Anomen glanced up, hardly feeling the rain that speckled his cheeks, so cold as his face was, his eyes gazing up at that plain building of old brick and peeling woodwork as those before him bustled inside; he had never been so happy to see the Coronet in his life.

Bernard welcomed them with his usual cheer, the man shouting that he would send the maid up with warmed ale as they trailed past him for the stairs. Anomen dropped his pack under the window, a maid arriving to light the fire while he moved behind the screen quickly wash and dry himself as best he could at the washstand, before he changed into his only set of clean, albeit damp, clothes and pulled on his boots once more, his drenched cloak left steaming before the newly lit fire as he grabbed up his coat.

She was in her usual room, the one opposite his; Hendak had refused to rent _their_ rooms to anyone else since he had taken ownership of the Coronet, and Anomen barely had to take a pace from his own door to be stood outside hers, the man raising a hand to knock even as he called, 'Fritha?'

There was no answer, Anomen opening the door to find her curled on the bed, still fully clothed, long tendrils of damp hair snaking out across the quilt, her cloak and bag the only things she had seen fit to remove, a sodden heap at the foot of the frame. He sighed gently, stepping over the threshold to gently tap the heel of her boot.

'Come, Fritha, you cannot go to sleep like that.'

'Watch me,' she murmured into the blankets.

'At least remove your boots.'

'Gods, Anomen!' she cried, snapping into a sitting position to pull them roughly off and throw them one after the other, 'There! Are you happy now?'

Anomen locked his jaw, swallowing a retort, Fritha's regret obvious as she shook her head.

'I'm sorry, Anomen, I'm just tired.'

'Get some sleep then,' he soothed, sinking onto the edge of the bed to pat her now bare foot, 'I just came to tell you I am heading out again; I must go to explain matters at the Order.'

'Oh, I should come with you-'

'No, no, you rest, dearest; it will be fine.'

She nodded wordlessly, dropping her forehead to press it briefly into his shoulder in a show of modest affection, the man rising as she drew back and he was stood in the hall once more, just about to close her door as he heard the cry.

'Lady Patron?'

A roar from the room behind him. '_Oh gods! Tell him I'm dead!_'

Anomen sighed, turning to send Meck a very stern look.

'You are not to upset her, you understand?'

Meck grinned. 'Course, m'lord, whatever you say.'

Anomen shook his head and held the door open for the boy, the sigh on the other side deep and weary as he went to close it behind him.

'Oh, Meck, my lamb, what _now?_'

xxx

'So where've you been this time then, m'lady?' chirruped Meck, the boy seemingly oblivious to the rain and her mood, every fourth step a jog as he fought to keep up with her brisk march through the wet streets. 'We ain't seen you at the theatre for nigh on a fortnight.'

'We've been to the Windspears.'

'The Windspear 'ills? That's miles away!'

'I know; we walked it.'

Meck laughed. 'I 'ope you got something good fer it, then.'

Fritha sighed, feeling as bleak as the glary grey sky above her. 'No… we got nothing for it…'

Meck was frowning, staring up at her through a rain-slick fringe.

'Why d'you do this, m'lady? I know you're an adventurer and all, but you must 'ave enough coin to last you the winter by now -wouldn't you rather just stay in the city and leave your adventuring fer the warmer months?'

'Oh, Meck…' she laughed weakly, 'I would like nothing more. I don't quite know what tales Higgold's has been feeding you about adventurers and their unquenchable thirst for glory or fame or whatever it is they go wandering about the wilderness for, but I'm not an adventurer, Meck, I'm a mercenary in all but name, and all I do is for plain honest coin.'

'All this just fer gold? But why, m'lady? You never buy anything –you're even still staying in the Coronet when anyone else would 'ave moved out to better digs by now.'

Fritha considered the boy with a half-smile.

'You're an astute young man, aren't you, Meck? The reason for that is I am saving up for something quite special. You see, four _long _months ago, my best friend in all Toril was taken and imprisoned by the Cowled Wizards for something she did not do. Now the Wizards refuse to release her, but they are not the only power in this city, and the Shadow Thieves have offered to retrieve her for me –for a modest fee, of course. I know, worthy of the stage, isn't it?' she quipped at his look of boyish awe. 'As for the Windspears, we were promised seven thousand gold to go and rout some bandits, only when we arrived we discovered there were no bandits, no coin –it was all just a trick by someone who had a grudge against my dead father.'

'And what did you do?'

'Do? _Do?' _Fritha gave a great laugh of near-hysterical despair, only for it all to dissipate as she sighed, _'_ Meck, I just walked all the way back here, and now I'm coming to check on you lot, because _that_ is all I can do.'

xxx

Anomen drew a breath of cool damp air, for the first time in his life glad to be outside the Order's walls and walking his way back through the slums. The rain had finally eased off and the weather was quite warm for it, the heavy clouds that still choked the sky above blanketing in the day's heat.

His meeting had not been too bad, especially when compared with the last audience he had had with the Prelate. Anomen had been relieved to find the Order bore no grudges for the death of Sir Aeslen, or the men he had led, Wessalen merely listening to his account, before informing him that he had already heard a report detailing the same by Sir Ajantis, who had commended both him and his group as good people who had done all they could to avert, and afterwards lessen the tragedy.

Anomen nodded to the guard as he passed, at last pushing open the door to find the Coronet teeming with its usual crowd of patrons in the early evening rush. His own group were gathered about a table in the far back, near to one to the fireplaces; Jaheira, Valygar, Minsc and Fritha sat sharing tea and talk, though some more readily that others, he noticed, Fritha resting her head upon her hand as she swirled the tealeaves in her cup, though she did glance up at his approach.

'Ah, Anomen, you are returned,' greeted Jaheira, the woman pouring him some tea as he took the seat next to Fritha, 'How was the Order?'

'As well as could be expected. But they do not hold us responsible and have already had news from Sir Ajantis as to the true enemies in this, so that eased the meeting somewhat.'

'Boo says that dragon had earned their ire.'

Much nodding followed this, Fritha dropping her attention back to her cup.

'So Fritha,' Anomen continued, 'did Meck have some great disaster to report?'

The girl shrugged, not lifting her eyes from the drifting tealeaves as she muttered, 'No, Higgold just wanted to talk about some troupes who've approached him asking to use the theatre. He needed some decisions on our rates and how long we want our own season to run.'

Anomen frowned; nothing pressing, just as he had suspected. But for all that, she seemed rather upset by the trip.

'Did something else happen? You seem-'

'I'm fine,' she interrupted curtly, 'thank you.'

Anomen glanced back to a table of dark looks, Jaheira imperceptibly shaking her head at him. Anomen sighed and changed the subject.

'So, where are Aerie and Haer'Dalis? Have they retired already?'

'No, they went to visit the circus,' answered Jaheira, adding with a snort, 'and Haer'Dalis a little more reluctantly than Aerie, it would seem.'

Valygar laughed his agreement. 'Indeed. Though he made no outward sign, some might have said he was feeling a touch awkward about meeting them all again, since his last visit saw him _carried _out of the tent.'

'They won't care,' murmured Fritha, 'He didn't do anything terrible.'

'No, no,' agreed Minsc, 'just laughed and sang; all in the spirit of the eve!'

It seemed no one could find a reply to that, an uneasy silence falling over the table, the bang of the door a welcome interruption when, moments later, Aerie and Haer'Dalis piled through.

'Little Aerie,' greeted Minsc as the pair arrived, 'Boo says you look to be full of excitement.'

That was an understatement, the girl pink and almost breathless as she cried, 'You'll never guess, the trial of Isea Roenall has begun!'

The table exploded in excited, and some might have said, relieved chatter.

'When did that happen?' asked Jaheira.

'Two days ago. They are holding it over at the Council Buildings. A public trial, no less, that any free citizen may sit in on! Unheard of for a noble defendant; it has been packed both days.'

'Aye, 'tis more popular than your playhouse, my raven,' laughed Haer'Dalis. Fritha nodded and forced a weak smile. Anomen watched her with a tired frown.

'You knew, did you not?'

She shrugged despondently. 'Samuel mentioned something, though he had no details.'

'Well, fortunately for us, Quayle is well-lanned,' continued Haer'Dalis eagerly, 'and it does not look good for Isea. The prosecution apparently has a very strong case. The defence have already put forward a request for exile should he be found guilty, but the prosecution have made motions to have him publicly hung! Though that will likely be reduced to private beheading come the sentencing.'

Jaheira raised an eyebrow. 'You are remarkably well-informed of the small civilities afforded the noble classes, Haer'Dalis.'

The tiefling grinned. 'Well, perhaps such a supposition may have been more Quayle's than mine.'

'Besides, they have to find him guilty first,' reminded Valygar, 'a rare outcome for a noble of this city.'

Aerie nodded. 'The Magistrates are hearing witnesses over next few days.'

'So the Lady Nalia might be in the city,' confirmed Anomen, knowing from her mood the girl had likely considered the same already as he offered, 'we could seek her out if you wish, Fritha.'

Fritha sighed deeply and pillowed her head on her arms. 'No, I don't want to see her.'

Another long silence. Anomen felt his patience snap.

'Come along,' he commanded, on his feet and taking her hand to practically drag her from her chair. Fritha looked furious.

'Anomen, I already said-!'

'I do not mean to find the Lady Nalia; we are going out.'

Fritha had the suddenly startled look of a cornered animal.

'Out where?'

'I haven't decided yet.'

'Anomen-'

'No,' he interrupted, pulling her after him as he made for the door, 'now, come along.'

Haer'Dalis threw himself into the nearest chair with a grin.

'You know, I like him better and better.'

xxx

Anomen's forcefulness did not last long, and the pair had been barely a few paces from the inn when he had apologised for manhandling her so. Fritha had accepted his words, though had refused categorically to continue holding his hand, claiming that the only man who had ever done so had been Gorion and only then when dragging her to Father Whelan or some other scholar of Candlekeep for a very forced apology. She did, however, concede to take his arm and they walked like that for while in silence, Anomen steering them steadily from the slums with little idea of where to go from there.

'I am sorry I have been so ill-tempered lately, Anomen,' said Fritha suddenly, the man glancing to his side to find her downcast and he wondered if she had been dwelling on such since they left the inn. 'I just feel like the world is mocking me, that however hard I try I will always fail. But I am not making excuses, I have been taking my temper out on you and I am very sorry for it.'

Anomen smiled; she could scream at him twice a day for the next forty years if it was always followed by such dearly borne regret.

'Do not fret, Fritha, I do not mind.'

Fritha looked both relieved and surprised by his dismissal.

'How can you stand there so mildly and say that? I would be livid if someone had been acting so unreasonably to me!'

The knight could have almost laughed. 'Truly? Perhaps now, though I recall a time when your patience had the abundance of the sea.'

'I had forgotten,' Fritha sighed absently, turning to him to add, 'Is that why you are being so nice? Some sort of recompense?'

'No, dearest. I understand your frustration and, to be honest, I doubt I could remain angry even if I did not –I just look at you all flushed and scowling and I am filled with love. Ah, you are not still embarrassed about me stating it, are you?' he laughed, as she flushed scarlet, 'It has been over a month since I first spoke of it.'

'Yes, and as I recall I was not so pleased to hear it then either,' she muttered sourly. Anomen let his gaze linger on her, wondering how much of her embarrassment was colouring her mood.

'Does it displease you as much to hear it now?'

Fritha shrugged and went even redder, the girl suddenly very interested in the feet she was scuffing over the cobbles. 'I suppose not.'

Anomen laughed delightedly, her sullen embarrassment no surer sign of her affections.

'You cannot bear it, can you?'

She sighed, turning that tired, pained frown upon him. 'No, Anomen, it's not that, it's just-'

Fritha bit her lip, unsure of how to put the feeling into words. She did care for him, but whatever she felt, she was going to have to leave in the end, and it was hard to invest such emotion to a thing that felt as though it was already over. And then there the last of the coin still to be raised and Jaheira to worry for now the druid no longer had the support of the Harpers, and more than anything, she was just grateful he was there to take her mind off it all. 'Ah, I don't know,' she muttered, knowing, at least, that saying she was _grateful_ for his affections was sure to hurt his feelings.

Anomen smiled kindly and squeezed the hand that rested on his arm.

'Do not fret, dearest, I am surer of you than you are yourself. Your feelings are sincere enough for me.'

Fritha forced a smile; at least, _he_ was happy. 'So where are you taking me then?'

Anomen laughed. 'I have not the faintest idea.'

Fritha laughed as well, a few moments' discussion finding them agreed on the Goose and Grain over in the Promenade, and they took a table just as the bells marked the seventh hour of the afternoon. The tavern was quiet, especially for the early evening, only half the tables occupied; Midwinter was the time a year for going straight home to family and hearth, it seemed. Anomen took a mouthful of wine, beginning to feel rather conspicuous and increasingly uncomfortable as the silence between them ticked by without halt.

'So,' began Fritha slowly, as she cast about them, 'we're out then…'

'Yes…'

'Do you feel really awkward, or is it just me?' she continued with her characteristic air of unconcerned bluntness.

'No, I feel it as well.'

Fritha leaned back in her chair and took a long draft of wine, a contemplative frown playing on her brow.

'I suppose it can't be helped, it is not as though we are just friends anymore. You taking me out hangs about us with a heavy significance –like a noose,' she added with a morbid grin. 'I mean we usually just fall into being alone together, so it doesn't feel as forced.'

Anomen watched her take another contemplative drink, the lamplight bringing out the smooth planes of her face, the dark clever eyes and the lips that never seemed too far from a smile. She glanced back to find him watching, mouth quirking with the promised grin, and he felt suddenly very blessed.

'Fritha, why do you think the Fates have brought us together?'

'Hmm, because I am a very vain person, and I needed a very particular swain who could take more delight in me than I do myself.'

Anomen laughed so violently he snorted wine down his tunic, the man still making attempts to mop it up as she asked, 'So, why do you think we were brought together?'

'Because I am so ill-tempered that any other girl would have been driven to a convent by now,' he teased, becoming graver as he added, 'I know we jest, but I truly do care for you, Fritha.'

'I never doubt it.'

He smiled, her tense pleasing him as much as her words.

'And so what are we to do with our awkward evening out together?' Fritha continued blithely. Anomen shrugged.

'Well, I brought you out with hopes of cheering you, though perhaps I should have taken time to consult with an expert on this matter. What would your errant bard do?'

'What, _Haer'Dalis?_' Fritha confirmed, clearly surprised that Anomen had brought him into the conversation voluntarily. 'Well, he'd probably get me really drunk and… we'd just be silly and have a laugh, I suppose.'

'Well, we can do that if you wish –do not look at me like that.'

'Like what?'

'Like you do not believe I know how.'

'Well, to be honest, friend, I'm not sure you do.'

And the pair of them glanced up to find a familiar blond head leant over the back of Anomen's chair, his boyish face beaming.

'Simon!' cried Fritha, Anomen already on his feet and shaking their hands as Simon and Erick appeared at their table.

'By Helm, what are you both doing here? I understood you were both on campaign in the Cloudpeaks.'

'The campaign is over,' Erick explained as they took seats opposite. 'Our battalion was the first to be sent back to the city; we arrived but a few hours ago and on a whim we thought to come out for a drink. Who could have anticipated we would meet your fair selves.' Erick glanced to Simon to add solemnly, ' We were sorry to hear of your father, Anomen.'

But Anomen just shook his head. 'It is over. How went the campaign?'

'Very well; we lost few men and the orcs are now driven back into the mountains. We left a few companies of knights back there in the border towns to guard against any further incursions, though most have been recalled to the Order.'

'And what a furore we came back to!' cried Simon, seemingly delighted by the change, 'Anomen the talk of the squires' quarters -defying orders and pursuing murderers -and Sir Ajantis back from the Windspears with news of dragons!'

'Oh, he is back in the city already?' confirmed Fritha.

'Oh yes, and telling all of his encounter with yourselves and a most malevolent red dragon by the name of Firkraag -ah, I am so jealous; I have never even seen one outside of the libraries -what was it like?'

Fritha shrugged mildly. 'Firkraag? Nice -in an evil, manipulative sort of way -and he knew my father, would you believe? In fact, he told me he set fire to him!'

Simon and Fritha promptly burst out laughing, the girl recounting the tale of Gorion's folly to the table, clearly enjoying their horror and humour as the story flowed its course. Anomen however was rather stuck on the former of those reactions, the man finally collaring her as Fritha rose to replenish their cups at the bar.

'Firkraag told you that story did he?' he confirmed in an undertone, trying to keep the tense displeasure from his voice as he concluded, 'That night of the gathering, when you disappeared for a while…'

Fritha's impatient sigh did little to help his temper. 'Oh, Anomen-'

'You _said_ you had been in the barn checking on our horse.'

'Anomen-'

'You went back to speak with Firkraag alone, did you not? Helm's mercy, Fritha, he could have killed you!'

'Don't start, Anomen!' she hissed, 'If he'd wanted me dead, he could have just killed me when we were all there –it's not like we could have stopped him.'

'Fritha,' Anomen sighed, not wanting to argue when the evening had been going so well, 'I am not here to scold you, I am just worried; you can be so distant at times.'

She could also be _very_ moody, Anomen considered, the pair of them back from the bar, Fritha sat opposite chatting with Simon and still pointedly ignoring him a quarter hour later. At least she was laughing again, the squire telling her some of the more amusing campaign stories and, seemingly, there had been quite a few.

'So, you finally steeled your heart and told her of your regard,' said Erick quietly, adding at Anomen's questioning look, 'Irlana told us.'

Anomen smiled. 'I will be honest, I told Fritha a while ago. She was opposed to it at first; you have heard, I assume, about what she is?'

Erick nodded, his face unreadable. 'Yes. We heard.'

'And?'

'You know Simon,' Erick sighed, smiling as he glanced back to the pair, 'the instant he is told and he is lamenting how everyone must judge her so harshly for it –how undeserved a fate for so innocent a girl.'

Anomen smiled himself, feeling a sudden swell of affection for his friend, turning back to the paladin to add, 'And you, Erick?'

'Anomen, if I had not already met and decided I like her, I know you –you would not have feelings for her had you any reservations.'

'No, but your opinion means much to me, all the same.'

Erick drew a slow breath, looking reluctant to continue, though he did.

'I think her everything delightful and worthy, Anomen, but I know what problems such a heritage could bring.'

Anomen smiled faintly, idly swirling the wine in his cup. 'You sound like her. It took a very long time to convince her I do not care.'

'Well,' Erick sighed, draining the last of his drink and setting the cup down with a certain resolve, 'then I can but support you in the decision. So, have you set a date for the wedding?'

'No, indeed, but ask Fritha that question and see what colour she goes.'

'Ask Fritha what?' came Simon, the pair across the table paused in their talk and watching them intently. Anomen just laughed.

**...**

They stayed in the tavern until the bar called time, their group parting ways at the western archway of the Promenade. Fritha's mood toward him had warmed again within a half hour, and the girl blithely took his arm as they turned to make their way back to the slums.

'_Yadiv, yadiv_…' she sighed in some Rashemi oath he did not understand, a hand pressed to her temple as she admitted, 'I've had _far_ too much to drink, Anomen. I'll be fit for nothing tomorrow.'

'Have you anything so pressing?'

'No, but I don't suppose our next lot of work is going to find itself. But I am resigned to it,' she forestalled as he hastened to make the usual fervent assurances, the girl patting his arm to continue, 'we will find something –we always do. Besides, who knows what _terrible calamity_ is just around the corner lying in wait for the good citizens of Athkatla, requiring the skilled arms and avaricious eyes of fine mercenaries like ourselves.'

'I'm glad to see you've the city's best interests at heart,' Anomen quipped mildly.

'I will do all I can to save it!' cried Fritha, 'I just might require a monetary incentive upfront.'

Anomen laughed and they spent the rest of the journey discussing what bestial horrors they could unleash upon the city in order to earn their coin. And it seemed no time had passed before they were back in the Coronet, voices hushed in that darkened hallway as they made their 'goodnights'. Fritha was stood before him, smiling up at him in slightly wistful way that was making his face hot. Anomen swallowed dryly.

'Well, goodnight, Fritha.'

It was not quite a kiss, the girl leaning up to press her cheek against his own, her breath warm and sweet with the scent of wine as she murmured at his ear.

'Thank you, Anomen.'

And then she was gone, and he was stood alone in the hallway, smiling at the plain wooden face of her door.


	83. They fell among thieves

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Baldur's Gate', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**They fell among thieves**

Fritha twisted under the blankets, trying to find a way out and instantly regretting it the moment she had, the cold air and bright dawn light that was pouring through the open curtains doing nothing for her headache. She blinked, wondering through the haze why she had even woken, when the knocking came again, her door rattling with the persistent summons.

'All right, I'm com- _I'm coming! _Meck?' she cried, as she wrenched the door open on the dark-haired boy; her distress was instant. 'Oh, Meck, _no_; I only got to bed a few hours ago and I'm really hungover. In fact,' she leaned in, her voice dropped to conspiratorial whisper, 'I think I'm still a bit drunk.'

But the boy just shook his head, looking grave. 'Sorry, m'lady, 'iggold says it's really important.'

'Oh, when isn't it?' Fritha groaned, turning back into the room and pointing the boy to her chair as she wandered behind her screen to dress. 'So, what is it this time? Zeran's crying in the dressing rooms because Iltheia said he was looking old? Higgold's got himself lost in the props cupboard again? Oh, I know, the king of Turmish himself has pitched up, neat little beard and all, and is demanding to play the role of the leading lady.'

On the other side of the screen, Meck was giggling. 'No, patron, nothing like that.'

'Well, I suppose we should be thankful for small mercies,' Fritha sighed, stepping round the screen to catch up her cloak and throw an arm towards the door.

'Lay on, Meck.'

He led her through the empty streets at a brisk trot, the cold air quite refreshing, though the pace was doing little for her hangover. The Five Flagons was not yet open for business, but the door was unlocked, Meck holding it open for her before darting ahead once more as they crossed that silent empty tavern, the chairs still stacked upon the tables from the night before.

Downstairs, only the lamps nearest the stage had been lit, their soft glow falling upon a huddle of whispering people and Fritha felt her stomach drop. _Everyone_ –all the cast _and_ crew- were there, gathered upon the stage, and Fritha did not want to imagine the disaster that could have brought them all there at such an hour. Her headache seemed suddenly all the worse.

'Oh, gods, what's happened?'

Higgold whirled, flapping over to greet her as she climbed the steps to join them, Meck leaving her side to stand with Wynn and Jenna.

'Ah, my patron, thank you for attending at such short notice; I, for one-'

'Get on with it, Higgold,' shouted a gruff voice from somewhere in the crowd behind him that sounded a lot like Ketrick.

'Ah, yes, well now, I appreciate that when you began this theatre, you knew little of the business, my lady, though you have learnt much in the meantime and I know you understand that certain investments can take a time to come to fruition. A new theatre such as this does not begin to make money until much later on in the season, after all the bills have been paid and the like.'

Higgold glanced back to those assembled behind him, uncharacteristically solemn. 'But Alhana went around the creditors yesterday with Iltheia, and it seems with the play doing so well, most are happy to wait a little longer. And- and Samuel has said that since the play began, he is doing such a roaring trade, we need not pay the tab for this month as thanks. And before yesterday's performance, Zeran and Jenna paid a few visits about the city to those nobles well-known for their benefaction to such cultural pillars of Athkatla, and all were glad led their patronage to our own flourishing institution –one Lady Nalia who was staying over at the Jysstevs's estate was most munificent. And we had a meeting last night, and all decided that with our meals taken here and the like, well, our wages need not be quite so generous this month and, so, well…'

Higgold trailed off with a nod to Davith, the lad stepping forward to set a small iron-bound coffer on the table next to them.

'It came to just a shade short of five thousand gold pieces, my lady; not quite the seven thousand you went to the Windspears for, but, well, we would like you to have it…'

In her defence, Fritha had suffered a rather stressful time of it lately; she promptly burst into tears. But it seemed no one could work in the theatre for long without at least acquiring the knack of comfort distressed actresses, a great soothing _'ahhh'_ going up as everyone seemed to gather about to console her, Higgold dabbing at his own eyes, the other hand ruffling Meck's hair as he watched them.

'Oh, I do so _love_ the theatre.'

xxx

Aerie drew in a deep breath, enjoying the smell of baking from the kitchens and waiting, with growing anticipation, for their own dishes, the common room quiet about them as she took an early breakfast with Jaheira and Haer'Dalis.

'So what plans have we for today?' Aerie asked, already suspecting the table's answer. The druid shrugged.

'What else? We will look for more work.'

'Ah, there will likely be meagre pickings now winter is upon us,' sighed Haer'Dalis, the man glancing slyly to Jaheira to add, 'and _now_ we have not even the Harpers' bounty to claim upon.'

Jaheira frowned, nodding her thanks as the maid arrived with their tea. 'Yes, one of the few _good_ things to have happened of late; do not mar it for me, bard.'

Aerie laughed into her sleeve, smiling as Haer'Dalis poured her tea, the elf lifting it for a sip and nearly slopping it down her front as the tavern door was almost thrown off its hinges, Fritha leaping into the common room looking, well, radiant, for want of a better word, her face flushed and eyes bright as she bounded over to them.

'Fritha, you've already been out?' confirmed Jaheira with a frown.

'Yes, I-'

'How was your evening?' asked Aerie, raising her cup for another sip.

'Lovely, and you'll never guess-'

'By Silvanus, you are not engaged, are you?' the druid cut in, Aerie snorting what little tea she had managed to take back into her cup.

'No! I-'

'By the Lady, she's already wed!' laughed Haer'Dalis. The table shook as Fritha patience was finally exhausted, the girl slamming a small strongbox onto the empty place before her.

'There! Five thousand gold pieces!'

Jaheira recovered first. 'Gods above! Did you and Anomen rob the temple of Waukeen?'

'No, the theatre gave it to me. They called me over there this morning and they said they'd talked to the creditors and benefactors and Samuel and don't make me repeat it all, because I'll only cry again.'

'So we can go to Galen and pay him the rest of the coin?' cried Aerie. Fritha nodded, looking like she was about to burst with happiness.

'So, what is stopping you, my raven?'

'All your asinine questions! Come on!'

But as much as Fritha wanted to, Jaheira would not let them go further into the slums without all of them present, the woman using the opportunity as they waited for the men to dress and assemble, to lecture Fritha on the imprudence of carrying such a sum from the Bridge alone, while Fritha sighed and fidgeted, and generally behaved like she was a good ten years younger in age.

**…**

Gaelen greeted them with his usual good cheer.

'Coo! Ye've another haul fer me, have ye?'

'Yes,' Fritha agreed briskly, dumping the strongbox onto his rickety table with a solid thud, 'Five thousand gold pieces give or take a copper, and don't expect me to stand here while you count it, because I won't.'

Gaelen scratched the few days' growth on his chin, the determined look to Fritha's face bringing him to a quick conclusion.

'Right, well, we'll just call it five thousand straight then, shall we? Grand. Now the ledger says ye've still another two hundred and forty to –but I'm sure we can let ye off that,' he added hastily under their collective glares. Well then,' the man sighed, clapping his hands together purposefully, 'I will send a message over today and my contact will come to the Coronet later with the time of the assembly. Just so ye know, ye are to be meeting with the Shadowmaster himself, Aran Linvail, and I warn ye now, m'lady, step carefully, fer he doesn't suffer fools gladly.'

'I take it _you_ have never met him then,' muttered Jaheira. Gaelen missed the insult.

'Coo! That I haven't, and right glad I am, too, m'lady! Well, it has been pleasant working with ye,' he continued, turning back to Fritha with a friendly nod, 'I hope yer friend is worth the coin, aye?'

Fritha nodded, a nervous energy twisting through her stomach. 'Aye.'

And so, it was back to the Coronet for yet more waiting. They had all sat down in the common room again, to resume the breakfast some of them had yet had a chance to take, but Fritha got so sick of herself snapping at everyone, she took herself back to bed before the food had even arrived. She could not sleep, of course, just lay fully clothed under the blankets listening to the bells mark the hours across the city, her body tensing every time footsteps clattered past her door, when at last the knock came, Jaheira bringing news that a messenger had just arrived. They were to attend Renal's office at the fourth bells after high sun, in but an hour's time.

But, in contrast to the rest of the day, that last hour seemed to pass in a blink, and, before Fritha knew it, they were outside, the twilight already closing in, though the streetlamps had yet to be lit, those about her unnaturally pale in the half-light as they set off for the docks.

Fritha forced a smile in return to the one Anomen had sent her, the girl more than glad when he turned his attention back to their path. The last thing she wanted to do was worry him, but it was hard to maintain the charade for long. She had been so happy that morning when the troupe had given her the last of the coin, but now… Everything was _finally_ moving, those last few steps to Imoen ready before her and at last forcing Fritha to face a worry she had kept buried for a very long time.

What if Imoen was really changed for her ordeal? What if she was disturbed or traumatised or broken beyond any repair. What if Imoen was _dead?_

'Fritha?'

Fritha glanced up, surprised to find herself before that unobtrusive grey building, Jaheira at the door and beckoning her forward.

The guildhall was much altered since her last visit, although Fritha had the impression it was more for the benefit of their meeting than any permanent change, the usually spacious entrance hall crammed with keen-eyed, well-armed men who Fritha suspected were guards. There was _one_ familiar face still about to greet them though, Myrtle spotting them through the press to send her a friendly wave, and Fritha had been about to go over and present herself when a high voice trilled out, 'Why, _you're_ the mercenary my Aran has been talking about?'

And Fritha could not help but take a step back as a tall, golden-haired woman appeared from between two burly guards to glide over to them, the skirts of her rich blue gown rippling like an ocean.

'Er, hello,' Fritha faltered, 'we're here to see Master Linvail.'

'My, my, but aren't you sweet!' the woman laughed, blue eyes shining with a seemingly genuine delight, 'But so young too –to think it is you who has been giving those vampires such trouble. What a shame you are so well-known about the city, you could fit seamlessly into the ranks of my girls, I think.'

'Your girls?' questioned Aerie behind her. The woman nodded.

'Yes, I am Tassa, Aran's spymaster. I have men and women both under my command, but my girls are always the best when it comes to teasing secrets out of those proud, overfed nobles.' She laughed again, closing a hand about Fritha's wrist. 'Aran is upstairs; come along, I shall take you.'

Renal's office was, barring the addition of another four guards, quite unchanged, the old thief master stood with a pale and unusually strapping man whom she assumed was Aran Linvail, the two men on the other side of Renal's low table talking in an undertone. Aran was younger than Fritha had expected, likely in his thirty-fifth winter or there abouts, with short spiky blond hair and a rather chiselled face that was dominated by deep-set green eyes. He was handsome, but he was no Renal, she concluded critically, letting her eyes fix on the old thief master and making no outward sign as she tried to will into him the gratitude she felt for what he had done.

'Aran dearest, look who I have found downstairs,' announced Tassa, turning to Renal with a giggle to add, 'And shame on you Renal, you never told me she was so fair.'

He dipped the slightest bow. 'My apologies, madam.'

'Thank you, Tassa dear,' Aran dismissed politely. The woman smiled and shut the door behind her, Renal gesturing to the cushions before them, though there was by no means room for them all and only the three woman sat, Renal and Aran doing the same on the other side of the table; their meeting a picnic in a forest of armed men. Aran smiled as Renal poured the customary tea that went with such proceedings.

'Welcome, Fritha, I've looked forward to meeting you for some time now. I am, as you know, Aran Linvail the Shadowmaster of Athkatla. Now, I understand you are likely eager to be away, but there are some matters which require discussion before that can be possible. Complications have risen recently, and I wish to propose a trade of services.'

A round of disgruntled muttering about her.

'A trade of services…' Fritha repeated, trying to quell the angry heat that was already bubbling in her stomach, 'and what of the gold we have paid?'

Aran dipped his head in acquiescence. 'I apologise if you feel you have been done wrong in this. I assure you, the coin you have been paying has been put to good use-'

So much for keeping her temper; Fritha's palm hit the table with a cup-rattling _slap_.

'I don't care if you've bought everyone in the guild a shiny gold hat! The coin for Imoen- _that_ was the deal!'

To his credit, Aran remained conciliatory. 'And it was, but matters have arisen recently-'

'Yes, yes, you said: _complications_,' she cut in impatiently, 'well, what of them?'

'This rival guild knows our actions well, most likely from the traitors who have joined their ranks. One of our safe houses was attacked last tenday with a great loss of life, and with more of our guild members disappearing every day, many of my thieves are too fearful to even walk the streets at night lest they be next.'

Behind her, Anomen muttered something she could not quite make out, Aran continuing as if there had been no interruption.

'The information you have brought to us already has helped much, but we need to know more, namely the exact whereabouts of their stronghold. With this knowledge, we can finally begin to curb their activities and plan a firm counterattack. We know they are in the crypts somewhere beneath the cemetery, and Mistress Tassa has dispatched many an agent in hopes of learning more, but none have returned. I am sorry to hold this over you, but we have lost too many guild members to this war already, and we cannot afford to lose more.'

'So you wish for _us_ to go down into the crypts and find what you cannot?' Valygar rumbled. The Shadowmaster shook his head.

'No, indeed, I would just be sending you to your deaths. Over the past tenday, two loyal members of our guild have been meeting with representatives of the vampires, trying to learn more of their operations while pretending to consider turning coat. They have fretted and dallied, and tomorrow night they are due to meet a vampire by the name of Reed, one who was once of our own flock, to be made an offer they _cannot_ refuse. I ask that you attend the meeting, as well, and capture the creature.'

'Capture him?' confirmed Jaheira, 'And return him here for _interrogation, _I suppose?'

Aran held her gaze unflinchingly. 'I make no qualms about it. We are fighting a war for survival here, and we cannot lose. I will do all it takes to see my guild and the city safe, and the means I take will reflect that.'

Fritha was frowning; she could hardly believe she was asking this, but-

'And where do we bring him?'

The Shadowmaster seemed prepared for this question, unfurling a plan upon the table before them.

'Not many outside the guild have seen this, but I trust you with the knowledge. This is the layout of our guild headquarters, located deep beneath the terraces of the docks. Here is my office, the rest of the guildrooms and temple -and _here_ is where Reed will see out the rest of his days.' He let his finger rest on the square outline of a room set just between his office and the temple. 'Here is where you need to bring him. There is a door set on the quays, between the fourth and fifth jetties, which has no visible means of opening it. Knock five times and you will be admitted; they will be expecting you.' Aran moved grave green eyes back to Fritha. 'Perform this task for me and you have my word, I will get you to your Imoen.'

A pause; the whole room held its breath.

'Fine, we'll do it,' said Fritha, already making to rise, her head dipped against the glares of those behind. 'Come on.'

'But, Fritha-'

'I said _come on!_'

It began as soon as they were back outside, Jaheira pushing her way through the others to block the girl's path, a few of the dockworkers who were gathered outside the tavern across the street looking their way, before seemingly deciding better of it and turning back to their own business.

'Fritha, you cannot honestly expect-'

'You have another option the Shadowmaster has overlooked?'

'That is not-!'

'Fritha,' cut in Anomen, his tone more placating even if his words were the same, 'I understand that vampires are the fellest of creatures, but the torture of any sentient creature-'

'Again, you have another way of getting the information we seek?'

'Well, maybe this information comes at a price that is too high!' cried Aerie passionately. 'Fritha, whoever the victim, whatever the cause, torture is _evil_.'

'Not only evil, but useless,' added Valygar coolly, 'people will confess to anything in the end.'

But Fritha would not be dissuaded. 'Aran does not seek a confession, but information that can be easily verified, and I am very sure he will be able to get what he needs.'

'No, young Fritha, Boo says this is wrong, very wrong. Vampire or not, we should face our enemies in glorious battle, and let swing the righteous blade. But to capture them… to deliver them to torture… No, it is not the warrior's way.'

The girl shrugged. 'Well, what can I say?'

'And what happened to our customary _vote_?' snapped Jaheira. Fritha shot her a narrow-eyed glare.

'Fine. Hands up all those who have actually _been_ tortured.' Fritha raised her hand to a background of dark looks. 'Exactly. I get the say here and I say we are going to capture this vampire. Anyone who doesn't want to come, then don't. I'll go with a whole army of newly hired mercenaries, if I have too.'

Aerie shook her head, looking sad. 'You've become so hard.'

Fritha just snorted tiredly, already turned to go.

'No, I was always hard, Aerie, I've just had to show it a bit more recently.'

**...**

She marched them back to the Coronet in silence, Fritha heading straight up to her room, only Anomen foolish enough follow.

'Fritha, listen to me!'

The girl sighed, dropping her bag under the window and rubbing the tight spot at back of her neck, the world beyond the glass indifferent to either pain. 'Fritha, you cannot do this!'

'Come now, Anomen, we've had our vote –_majority rules_,' she reminded spitefully. The knight _just_ prevented himself from biting, Anomen closing the gap between them to press sincerely, 'I do not care about the vote, Fritha, I care about _you_. This path the thieves are making you walk –it leads into darkness.'

'Then that is where I must go.'

'And what happens after this, when Linvail demands another task of you?'

'Then I will do it!' she shouted, 'And the next thing and the next! I will do whatever it takes, because I have come too far now to turn around and go right back to my beginnings!'

'Where are you going?' he cried as she re-shouldered her bag.

'Out.'

And any further complaint was cut short by the slam of the door.

xxx

Anomen had rejoined the others in the common room, talking quietly about their plans as they took their evening meal together, the group reluctantly reaching the conclusion that they _would_ perform this last task for the Shadowmaster, though should he ask anything further of them once the vampire was delivered, then they would be holding Fritha prisoner themselves and refusing to release her until she had seen reason.

As for Fritha, she made no return either during or after their meal. Anomen waited until the tavern around him was almost empty, retreating to his room only when Hendak had taken the seat opposite and, still obviously feeling indebted to them for his freedom, began a very awkward conversation on pit fighting that Anomen assumed was a roundabout way of giving him relationship advice.

He was in bed now, though no closer to sleep for it, Fritha's frowning visage swimming into view every time he closed his eyes. He did not mean to argue with her. Indeed, he thought he was a lot better that he had been when they'd first met. But Fritha's patience was much shorter nowadays, especially since their meeting with Firkraag. Damn Linvail and his thieves! They had their gold; did they have to take her as well? They would go and capture this vampire tomorrow, and Anomen knew he would attend with them, but if they asked anything more of her, he'd- he'd…

He drew a deep breath, trying to let go of the impotent anger that had suffused him. Fritha was right –what could be done? They had refused the vampires, paid their vast amount of gold, and now they were stuck.

Anomen lay still, staring up at the cracked plaster of the ceiling, the rumble of a cart in the street below drifting up through the window, mixing with the barks of a stray and distant singing.

'_Hey, my little loomy girl, don't you guess, better be making your wedding dress…'_'

But instead of fading with the other sounds, the voice grew louder.

'_Wedding dress, wedding dress…_'

The voice was under his window now and, with growing resignation, Anomen threw off the blankets and crossed to open it, leaning out to see Fritha ambling along the street beneath, her sword resting casually over one shoulder, the belt hanging from it and jangling in time with her footsteps.

'_Better be making your wedding dress-_'

'Fritha?'

'Anomen!' she cried, beaming as she found him above her, 'What are you doing awake?'

He went to answer, but another cut him off, the shout of the disgruntled guest a few rooms along echoing up the street.

'The same as the rest of us, love- SHUT UP!'

Fritha whirled to the voice, drawing her sword with a worrying dexterity, and he could hear the steel behind the melodic Calant drawl.

'One more word out of you, _mate_, and my singing'll be the least of your worries.'

Silence followed and Fritha turned back to him, smiling as brightly as before. Anomen sighed.

'Dearest, where have you been?'

'Went to the theatre. Ended up playing cards in the dressing room with Wynn, Mayen and Ketrick; I had the _best_ time. Oh Anomen, I am so _drunk_!' she laughed, sheathing her sword and leaning heavily on it as though a walking cane. 'So why _are_ you awake? -I didn't wake you, did I?' she added in an anxious undertone and he shook his head.

'No, I could not sleep,' he answered, deciding he may as well be honest with her as he added, 'I do not like it when we argue.'

'Oh, me either!' she exclaimed with passion, 'Every time we do, I promise myself I'm going to recapture that patience you once so liked me for, but it's gone… all used up…' She sighed rather wistfully and shook herself. 'Well, I'd best get to bed.'

'Drink plenty of water before you sleep!' he called after her and he heard her laugh, though she made no reply, her song echoing cheerily as she rounded the corner.

'_Weeeeell, it's already made, trimmed in red, stitched all round with a golden thread. Golden thread, a golden thread, stitched all round with a golden thread… '_

xxx

Anomen had finally managed to sleep after their talk, or, at least, after he had heard the familiar clatter of feet in the hallway a few moments later. They had paused outside the door opposite his own, a slam concluding the thing and he had, at last, felt able to relax. This late night saw him sleep in though, the man catching the tail end of breakfast with the others downstairs, though he was not the only latecomer. Fritha had yet to make an appearance and after another hour had passed, the general consensus was that she was not going to. Anomen poured out a large cup from the fresh teapot that had just been set upon their table and moments later he was stood before her door, a light knock earning him the predictable, muffled response.

'_Ugnn?_ What is it?'

'Fritha?'

'Anomen? Go away; I'm asleep!'

Without much hope, he tried the handle. It was unlocked. _Helm's mercy! _

And he opened the door on a seemingly empty room, the only sign of life: the lumpy heap of blankets upon the bed that was capped by a messy froth of ginger curls.

'Fritha?' he repeated.

She groaned and tried to retreat further under the covers.

'Fritha,' he continued, sitting on the edge of her bed, 'How are you feeling?'

'Oh, not too bad,' she sighed finally, clearly abandoning her plans of returning to sleep, the girl wriggling out from under the blankets to sit and he handed her the tea he'd brought. Unexpectedly, she seemed quite unconcerned by her appearance; neither the fact her hair looked more like a bright copper briar than anything else, nor that she was only wearing her slip as far as he could tell, her shoulders quite bare save for the thin linen straps, giving her any cause for concern.

'Did you drink any water last night?' he asked.

She dipped her head, smiling into the cup. 'A little. I was a bit far gone, to be honest.'

'Yes,' he agreed gravely, 'you did not lock your door either.'

Fritha gave an absent shrug. 'Oh, well, no point worrying about it now. Should you even be in here, anyway?' she added with a frown, 'Don't the Order have some knightly rule about visiting ladies in their bedclothes?'

Anomen smiled slightly. 'I believe it is left up to the discretion of the individual… I am sorry we argued yesterday, Fritha.'

'Yes, well, _I'm_ sorry I staggered back last night, drunk as a Lliiran, and woke you up.'

'As I already said, I was not asleep.'

'Aye, and no one else in the slums was either, after I wandered through playing the merry bard!'

Anomen gave her his most diplomatic smile. 'You sing very nicely.'

'Oh, shut up!' she laughed, the effort making her wince, 'Oh, ow…'

He laid a hand against her forehead, her skin hot and his hand must have felt pleasantly cool by comparison for she closed her eyes, leaning into the touch.

'I can bring you a draft for the pain, if you wish.'

'No, no, it will pass. So, have you lot come to a decision, or am I crawling about the city today trying to round up some mercenaries to come with me tonight?'

'Fritha…' he sighed reproachfully, changing hands to cup the other side of her face, 'We are all attending with you, as you could have likely guessed.'

The girl opened her eyes, regarding him with an unusually earnest look. 'I do not mean to abuse your affections for me, you know?'

'I know. But if Linvail asks for anything else, do not expect the same.'

Fritha's face darkened with a frown. 'If Linvail asks for anything else, he had better do so from behind a whole army of guards, because I'll be seeking to cut out his deceitful _tongue!_'

'Fritha!' Anomen exclaimed; shocked not so much by her words, but by the venom with which she had spat them.

'Sorry, but even I am not without a temper.'

'Something you have made _abundantly_ evident of late.'

'_Anomen!_' she laughed, finally batting his hand away. 'So, with you lot agreed to help and our meeting not until midnight, was their _any _reason to wake me this early?'

Anomen smiled. 'Only that I wanted to see you.'

'Well, come back at suppertime,' she laughed, making to nestle down among the blankets once more, and not bothering to suppress her groan as another knock rattled the door. 'Oh, _gods_… Come in,' she called, Jaheira peering around the door, the woman unable to disguise her surprise as she found him, and Anomen felt his face begin to grow hot. Fritha, though, seemed blissfully brazen about the whole thing.

'Oh, morning, Jaheira. Now whatever you are here to talk of, you are by no means allowed to lose your temper, because I am feeling _very_ delicate at the moment.'

'Two nights in a row,' the druid confirmed, assuming correctly the source of her affliction, 'they do say fools never learn.'

Fritha sent her a smile over the rim of her cup. 'It's all part of our charm.'

'Well, I shall leave you both to it,' said Anomen, neither woman speaking again until the door was shut. Fritha shifted over from the middle of the bed, patting the now empty space next to her and Jaheira, who had always taken to such things more easily in certain, albeit limited, company, kicked off her boots to recline companionably next to her.

'So, was Anomen just visiting or did he spend the night?'

Fritha sprayed the bedclothes with the tea she had just drawn, though more from hilarity than any embarrassment, the girl squealing with laughter.

'_Jaheira!_ I _told_ you I was in a delicate condition!' she cried, making a half-hearted attempt to mop up the mess she had made, the other hand cradling her, no doubt, aching head. Jaheira smiled innocently.

'You said not to lose my temper; I can hardly help it if you found amusement in my question.'

'Indeed, and _as_ for your question, Anomen arrived this morning with tea for me. You know, I could really get used to this courtship malarkey,' Fritha continued with a pleased grin, settling back into the pillows once more, '–it's just like Beth said, it's like having a _slave!_'

Jaheira tried not smile as the girl laughed again.

'Fritha, you are awful! I assume he told you we are all agreed to come tonight, though-

'_Don't for one moment expect us to so much as help Linvail tie his _shoelaces _afterwards,_' Fritha interjected shrilly, wagging an admonishing finger for good measure. 'Yes, Anomen mentioned it.'

A silence fell between them, both women settling back to gaze up at the pale, whitewashed ceiling, the noise of traffic and merchants outside swelling to fill the stillness.

'She's nearly back, isn't she?' sighed Fritha quietly, and Jaheira could hear the longing in her voice. 'I'm glad; I was beginning to forget… just small things, like how her voice sounds and the way her nose crinkles when she laughs.'

Just like Khalid's eyes used to… How had his laugh sounded?

'Oh, Jaheira!' Fritha cried, as the druid covered her mouth with a hand, unable to choke back a sob, 'Oh, Ja- Oh blast it!' Fritha swore, Jaheira just shaking her head, unable to speak for tears and laughter both as the girl spilt hot tea into her lap in her haste to set her cup on the bedside table.

'Oh Jaheira, I'm sorry!'

'Do not be,' Jaheira croaked eventually, sending her a watery smile. 'I am just being foolish. So, much has changed in such a short space of time, it catches me out sometimes.'

Fritha nodded, her eyes shifting to the window where the day she had yet to face was already rolling by.

'Yes, I feel it too, that sense that life will never be the same again. Under a year ago, my whole life was chores and practising my lute and playing games with Imoen. And now I'm here, out in the world, and everything is different and I can't ever go back; I can't ever be that girl again. And it is the same for you…'

Jaheira said nothing. A year ago, she had been a wife, a Harper, she had had a place in the world, ties to people and places. She had had a purpose. And now, once their task to retrieve Imoen was complete, she would have nothing… there was nothing… Her voice sounded hoarse when she spoke again.

'What are you going to do when you have Imoen back?'

She heard the girl sigh. 'Depends on Imoen really. What about you? I know you promised to stay with us, but we won't need your guidance forever; what will you do? Will you go and stay with Cernd in Trademeet?'

Jaheira let her gaze drop to her hands, strong and scarred as they had been for many years now; she was not ready to settle down.

'I suppose. I do not know…'

'Jaheira, why don't you ask Bernard to get a message to the Harpers and open a reconciliation.'

The druid whipped about so fast, she pulled her neck. '_What?_'

'Now, just listen,' Fritha soothed in anticipation of the expected outcry, 'I know what they did was wrong, and you said you have broken ties with them, but… Well, they said themselves, that Galvarey and Dermin acted alone.'

'They would have kept you imprisoned all the same!'

Fritha shrugged evenly. 'Perhaps, but just because they would have been complicit to that one mistake, does it mean that all they would do in Faerûn is unworthy? –that all the years you served them are a waste?'

Jaheira watched the girl watch her, wondering how anyone could be filled with such compassion.

'Has anyone ever told you, you've the forgiveness of an Illmateri?'

Fritha sent the ceiling a contemplative look. 'You know, I think they might have –wait, by goodness, if it wasn't yourself, Jaheira!'

'Foolish girl…' she chuckled, adding mulishly, 'I will consider what you have said. So, what have you planned now?'

'Now?' the girl snorted, 'I'm going back to sleep!'

'Oh, no, you are not! Wasting the day and all because you've burdened yourself with a hangover. Come on, up!' Jaheira commanded, springing from the bed, Fritha giving a shriek of protest as the blankets were suddenly whipped back. 'There are supplies to be bought if we are leaving the city soon.'

Fritha was groaning softly, trying in vain to escape the cold air by burrowing under the pillows left.

'But, _Jaheira…_'

xxx

Anomen shook the rain from his fringe, all the while trying to keep his eyes fixed on the shadow of the doorway opposite, unable to see them, but he knew all the same that they were there. Aran's two thieves were hidden in the darkness, the ones who had managed to convince an entire vampire guild of their treachery, even as they remained loyal to their masters, and the knight was not sure whether to be appalled by such deceit or impressed.

The day had passed quickly, helped by their late start and the group's trip to the Promenade, Fritha finally given the chance to get her chainmail mended, though they could not purchase much, not without knowing where they would eventually be headed. The evening had dragged though, most retiring to their rooms to try and get some sleep before they left, but he had not made an attempt; he was too nervous about the upcoming venture to even try.

Anomen shifted his weight slightly, his legs growing stiff stood so still, concealed as he was in the shadows of an alleyway that opened onto the small square in that edge of the slums, where their meeting was to take place. Fritha and Valygar were stood in the darkness behind him, while the rest of their group were similarly hidden somewhere in the shadows of the street just to the left, out of sight of him -and the vampire both, he hoped.

Anomen glanced back. Valygar and Fritha were talking quietly, their shaded faces lit with a quiet intensity beneath their hoods, though Anomen wondered if it wasn't just his natural jealousy putting on a colouring on the thing, the two finally parting with a nod, and Fritha moved to rejoin him at the corner.

'Still no sign yet? What the bloody Hells is keeping him?' she hissed, pulling her cloak about her more tightly, the rain lashing down at them as the wind increased in force.

'Perhaps, the vampires have-' offered Valygar, only to stop as a tall blond figure marched across the rain-pelted square. Fritha drew a deep breath, seeming to steel herself.

'Right, here we go…'

A brief exchange and the thieves left the shadows, following their new companion back across the square. Fritha waited for them to disappear entirely, before leaving the cover of the alley, the girl signalling to the others as she made a stealthy pursuit. They did not have to follow them for long though, Reed leading the pair to a large tavern only a street away. Fritha shook the wet curls from her face as she tipped back her hood, the common room they had just stepped into alive with light and noise compared to the wet deserted streets. Valygar's keen eyes were scanning the chaos.

'No sign of them here.'

'They've likely taken a room; they'll want some privacy,' offered Jaheira. Fritha nodded.

'Good, because that is just what we need, too.'

As it turned out, the room was easily enough found, a trail of water from the thieves' rain-drenched cloaks leaving a wet streak on the stairs and floorboards that looked entirely too apparent to be accidental. They followed it to the first floor, their group gathering where it halted at a plain wooden door in a long corridor of similar portals.

'Ready?' Fritha whispered, not waiting for their assent as she turned to knock lightly on the door. 'Yer ale, milords.'

'What? You are mistaken, girl, we ordered no-'

The door swung back, Reed recoiling with a hiss as a myriad of holy symbols were suddenly thrust into his face. Two arrows whistled past her head to land within inches of each other in his shoulder, though they were mere distractions, Aerie and Anomen warding him back into the room. Reed turned, the others in pursuit as he immediately sprinted for the window, and he would have made it, too, had it not been for the younger thief. The man jumped in front of him, his sword drawn for all the good it did, the creature dodging the swing with an unnatural grace to claw across his chest. This delay had been enough though, Jaheira's staff catching Reed soundly across the back of the head, a blow that would have killed anyone else, doing little more than stunning him.

'Quick, bind him to the chair!'

Anomen and Aerie were still warding the creature, and Fritha realised just how hard the Harpers must have had it, Jaheira using her staff to press Reed into the chair Haer'Dalis was holding as Valygar and Minsc struggled to tie him down with the rope Anomen, Jaheira and Aerie had each blessed earlier that day.

One final knot and, at last, it was done, the group stepping back as one to catch their breath and gaze down upon their prisoner, Reed hissing and spitting as he struggled at the bonds, the lamplight glinting on the metal and polished wood of the holy symbols that surrounded him. Fritha turned her attention to the two thieves, the older man stooped over his younger friend, the lad clamping a bloody hand to his torn leather breastplate though, from what Fritha could see, the damage looked mostly superficial.

'You all right there, mate?'

'Don't worry about us,' he gasped, wincing as he was helped to stand, 'we'll let Aran know you've got him.'

'We'll tell Aran,' assured Fritha, 'you get yourselves to a temple.'

The older thief nodded. 'Aye, as you say, miss; come on, lad,'

Fritha watched them go, Valygar moving to lock the door behind them as she returned her interest to their prize, the vampire still struggling at his bonds though he stopped as she moved closer. Fritha smiled, one final step taking her inside the circle of holy symbols.

'Hello, Reed, still working on recruitment, I see.' He snarled as she drew a finger along his face to leave a pale grey streak in his make-up. 'Ah, so they still have you playing the role of the mortal, the lucky little thief who landed on his feet. The other thieves you get to turn coat -you seen any of them recently?'

'I'm not saying anything to Linvail's _whore!_'

The vampire nearly lost his tongue as Anomen's gloved hand collided with the back of his head.

'Now, you're only making this easier, Reed,' Fritha warned, as the creature spat and cursed. 'As it is, I bear no special love for Linvail and the thieves, I merely trust Bodhi even less. In fact, I really could not care less, if I leave here and the two of you wipe each other out within the tenday, the only thing _I_ care about is the passage to Imoen I have been promised.'

'Then hurry up and murder me like a good little lackey,' Reed sneered. Fritha trilled a silvery laugh.

'Oh, no, no, no, you have it all wrong, Reed. The Shadowmaster sent me here to capture you, not kill you. No, he seems to believe you can tell him all sorts of useful things about Bodhi's stronghold.'

'I will never betray my mistress!'

Jaheira arched a derisive eyebrow. 'No? I wonder how many times you spoke similarly of Aran?'

Fritha smiled, slow and measured. 'I think you will find the Shadowmaster can be just as persuasive as Bodhi, though I imagine the experience will be far less pleasant. You know of that room in the guild, don't you? The one everyone knows about and no one speaks of. The room where certain people go and don't come out again. It's set on that long corridor to Aran's office. Clever really -everyone who must attend him has to walk past it; that subtle reminder of what happens to traitors.'

She leaned in close to his face, her eyes holding his.

'Well, it is waiting for you now, Reed. Aran bade me come here and fetch you back to him. Now, I do not profess to know how strong your loyalty to Bodhi is, but eventually Aran _will_ break you and we both know it. However,' she continued airily, drawing back to stand above him once more, 'as I said before, I have no real love for the thieves any more than the vampires and, moreover, I find such heavy-handed means of interrogation utterly distasteful. And so, I offer you a deal, Reed. _You_ will tell me everything I need to know to get into Bodhi's crypt –the location, the pass for the door, where the traps are, _everything,_ and _I_ will set you free and let you return to your brethren to warn them of the thieves' plans.'

'Fritha!'

'Fritha! Boo says _no!_'

Fritha ignored the outcry around her to continue coolly, 'If you refuse, I will, of course, have no choice but to take you back to Aran, where he will eventually get the information he needs anyway, and you will have no chance to warn your companions either.'

'By Silvanus, Fritha, you cannot just release this creature!'

Fritha snorted. 'Should we have another _vote, _do you think_?_ So, Reed, what do you say?'

The vampire gazed about them all, face etched with hatred and more than a little fear when, at last, he nodded once.

'Aerie, take notes,' Fritha barked, the elf still hurriedly rummaging through her pack as Reed began.

'The stronghold is in the ancient crypts in the south-eastern end of the catacombs. You will know you are closing upon it for the walls are covered with the frescos to some ancient sun-god –I don't know its name. You will reach a dead end, a cave in or so it will seem. It is an illusion and barrier both, but a mage of enough skill can bring it down. Beyond that point…'

And the vampire continued, detailing the traps they would face at each turn and the beasts that had been summoned and enslaved to patrol the maze of corridors, as he described the path they would take that would finally lead them to the doors to their stronghold: not warded, but too heavy for any mortal to move.

'And that is it,' he finished finally, 'that is all I know.'

Fritha drew back, nodding slowly. 'Very good, Reed, you made the wisest choice and I am pleased you did not make a torturer of me… just a murderer.'

A glance to Valygar; Reed did not even have time to voice his outrage. A flash of steel and his head was in his lap, his body burnt away to ash but an instant later.

'_Fritha!_' cried more than one voice about the room, the girl holding up a hand to resignedly forestall their anger.

'One at a time, please.'

'Did you plan to do that all along?' demanded Jaheira, the first to find her voice in that room of stunned faces.

'No,' said Fritha flatly, 'I considered it as a course, and asked Valygar about it just before Reed arrived. But if he had refused to talk, I would have taken him back to Aran, and that would have been that.'

'But, Fritha,' cried Anomen, 'you gave him your _word!_'

The girl nodded absently. 'Yes –funny, isn't it? The wicked are always so suspicious of their own kind, yet so unwaveringly trusting of the good in others.'

'Funny isn't the word _I_ would use,' snapped Aerie.

'No?' confirmed Fritha bluntly, 'You wanted to take him to Aran for torture, did you? You got all he said, I assume?'

Aerie was still frowning as she nodded mutely.

'Good, then let's return to Linvail.'

'But, young Fritha, you _lied_ to him. You killed him even as he was defenceless before you,' pressed Minsc, the Rashemi staring at her with a disbelief that stung –and well earned it was too. Fritha nodded.

'Yes, Minsc, I did. Be proud, Reed,' she sighed, gazing down at the dusty chair, 'though there have been many instances that eroded it, I think it was you who finally took the last of my honour.'


	84. Provinces unknown

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Baldur's Gate', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Provinces unknown **

Aran was not overly pleased with their news, lamenting how many more secrets they could have discovered from Reed had they been given the opportunity. But, as Fritha had argued, Linvail had the information he wanted and much more quickly than any torture could have gleaned it, and the Shadowmaster seemed to realise there was little more he could do, the man upholding his end of the deal with good grace. A ship was already awaiting them at the docks, ready to take them to Spellhold and their final goal: Imoen.

They returned to the inn only to collect the rest of their belongings and the dawn found them back on the docks, a nervous energy building as their group gathered on the quays to watch as a small three-masted barque was made ready for launch in the milky yellow light. They were sailing to Brynnlaw, a very small island a good many leagues off the coast and something of a haven for the local pirates as they worked the trade routes south to Calimshan. Aran had given them a contact on the isle who might have an idea of how to enter the asylum, but after that it was all up to them; fifteen thousand gold certainly did not buy much in way of a rescue in the City of Coin.

Anomen sat on the low wall that bordered the last flight of steps down to the harbour and watched the others gather on the quays proper, Fritha still inside the guildhouse making her last prayer at the shrine. He had lingered with her for a short while, the girl kneeling before the altar with one hand entwined in the cords at her neck as her lips moved in silent prayer, before he had left her in peace, Anomen quite taken with the idea that should he ever be in trouble, the world would find her knelt similarly under Helm's gaze praying so for him.

The clatter of boots on the stone steps behind him and he turned to see the girl herself, light on her feet despite the pack and lute case slung over either shoulder; at least the majority of their equipment and tents could be left at the theatre, considering their destination. Anomen smiled as she took the place next to him, easing the pack gently to the ground at her feet as she laid the case across her knees.

'Not long now then,' she said, drumming the case with excited fingers.

'No, Jaheira says we should expect to leave within the next half hour. You have been on many sea voyages?'

Fritha shrugged. 'Just the one to Balduran's Isle. You?'

He shook his head. 'None before this one.'

'Are you nervous?' she teased playfully. Anomen smiled, taking a moment to consider the question.

'I do not know… perhaps. I would like to watch the sea as a boy and imagine the exotic places that lay just beyond that blue horizon. There is a park north of the river that my mother would take my sister and I, that had views over the harbour. I wish it were the summer, I would take you there for shaved ice. What is it?' he asked, glancing back to find her staring at him.

'Nothing, I've just never heard you say anything like that before, so… wistfully.'

'Truly? I have idle dreams as many as the next man.'

'No, not like that,' she corrected, 'Just before, you would say something like, "Come the summer I _shall_ take you for shaved ice!"

Anomen shrugged, not wanting to give the answer he had: that by the summer she would likely be gone. Fritha let her gaze shift back to the boat before them and Anomen watched her, the silence between them allowing a question he had been mulling over since the night before finally surface.

'Fritha, why did you arrange with Valygar to kill Reed?'

The girl jerked her attention back to him, clearly surprised at his question. 'Is it not obvious? Although it may be a fine line, I much prefer breaking my word and murder to cold-blooded torture.'

'No, I understand why, Fritha -only why did you confide your plans to Valygar and not,' Anomen cleared his throat, feeling embarrassed to continue, 'well, me?'

Fritha returned his gaze gravely. 'Because of what is between us, Anomen. I know you find it difficult to say no to me. When I asked Valygar I knew he would have had no qualms about refusing had he felt the idea went against his principles.'

'And it would have been the same for me,' he assured her. Fritha dipped her face and looked uncharacteristically unsure.

'As you say, but I feel you have accompanied me on a few ventures in the past which you were against -and not so long ago you seemed to agree with me.'

Anomen winced, recalling his words during their very unpleasant exchange after he had been informed of his father's death, the man accusing her of dragging him about the city like he had had no say in the matter.

'I should not have said those things. I was blaming you for my own weaknesses.'

Fritha laughed ruefully. '_I _am your weakness. But do not worry, you will not have to bear it much longer –oh, sorry,' she cut in, seemingly appalled by her own flippancy, 'I shouldn't… ah, never mind.'

Down on the quays, Aerie was waving to them, Valygar and Minsc already helping the sailors carry their belongings up the gangplank.

'Looks like we're off; come on, Anomen, say your last goodbye to Amn -for a little while at least.'

Anomen laughed quietly, though as he turned back to gaze up at the docks, a pale gold in the morning light, perhaps a small part of him did feel a pang of nostalgia for that city which was his home.

Their boat was captained by the flamboyant Saemon Havarian, a man of sandy hair and tanned skin who was _very_ aware of his own good looks, his theatrical winks to Aerie and Fritha nothing short of hilarious by the girls' reactions, though Anomen did not look very happy as the Shadowmaster made the introductions. And it seemed with more than a little wariness and quite a few veiled threats that they were entrusted into the captain's care, though Jaheira could understand why; the man's foppish manner belied by the calm calculating cast to his grey eyes. But he seemed serious enough about them reaching their destination, and under a rising sun they set sail from Athkatla, heading westwards with their backs to the dawn.

xxx

Jaheira leaned over the rail, enjoying the feel of the breeze and the refreshing hint of surf it carried, cold though it was. The wind had picked up that night and the morning had dawned bracing and grey, heavy clouds building overhead as a bitter north-westerly driving them over the choppy seas to their destination, which, according to Havarian, was now only a few days away.

They had been three days at sea, long enough to get over any seasickness and fall into the rhythms of life there on the ship. Fritha, along with herself and Minsc, were the only three of their company who had been aboard a ship before, and the life seemed to the suit her, the girl making friends with the crew and most times could find her stood at the prow eagerly waiting to see land.

Minsc was happy too, his talk of revenge yet another, albeit metaphorical, dark cloud looming on the horizon. Allow them to retrieve Imoen, the Cowled Wizards may, but murder another of their prisoners as well? At one time, Jaheira would have been vehement in her instance too, but was vengeance worth the risk? There seemed little point in asking Minsc the same -the man's honour demanded no less for the murderer of Dynaheir. Jaheira sighed; they would just have to see how the land lay when the time came.

She glanced back at the sound of laughter. It was late in the afternoon now, the deck lively with a small group of sailors who were seated with a few of her own companions sharing stories together under the aft mast.

'Here, Jaheira,' called Fritha, the girl knelt up and beckoning for her to join their group, Anomen seated at her side, while Aerie and Haer'Dalis were a few along in the circle, 'come and sit with us.'

'So, four days from Brynnlaw and yer friend if we keep this wind,' confirmed a wizened old sailor as the druid settled, 'the Bitch Queen is smiling on ye.'

Next to him a blond man of middling years was nodding.

'What did your friend do anyway to get herself thrown in with those mad mages?'

Fritha shrugged dully. 'Not much -just in the wrong place at the wrong time.'

The old man gave a shudder. 'Ah, talk about something else, eh, Finch; that asylum gives me the chills.'

The young lad opposite, likely a Turmian by his earthy red skin and dark shock of hair, gave a bark of friendly laughter.

'Chills, is it? Now Finnis, you ent no mage, why are you frightened of the place?'

'Because I'm old and wise enough to be! I was once young and brash just as ye, Juvante, till the world gave me a lesson or two.' He tapped his large crooked nose wisely and the surrounding sailors laughed.

'Oh, aye, tell the story, Finnis.'

'Aye, tell the tale. It's a good un.'

'Tell what tale?' asked Aerie.

'The story of how Finnis first broke his nose,' one of the men explained.

'_First_ would be right. It looks that you have enjoyed the event again at least twice since then,' said Jaheira dryly.

'Ah, right ye are lass, right ye are,' Finnis laughed, 'but those times are nay as funny. All right, ye dogs, I'll tell it,' he sighed, raising a hand for silence. 'Right, 'twere when I were but a young lad of eighteen winters –I were handsome in those days –aye, even as fair as ye, young Juvante, so watch that grin of yers. We were docked in some rough little port town just south of Waterdeep and me and the crew were taking our shore leave the only way we knew how, in this huge old tavern set right on the quays. Now 'tis late in the evening and I am propping up the bar, when I notice this fine lass at the other end beginning to give me the eyes. I am more than goggling back, when the innkeep, gods rest him_,_ leans over to give me a bit of advice. _Be careful friend,_ says he, _she has a man, a captain who is docked here in the town and he will not take kindly to ye dallying with his woman. Ha! _says I, all fearless with youth and ale, _she is a free lady with no ring on her finger. If she wishes to have me please her, who am I to deny it?_

'Well, an hour later, and she is sat upon me knee, us laughing and carrying on as the ale flows like the sea I just left, when there's this almighty roar from over the tavern. She's off me lap quick as a hare and I'm on me feet to greet this huge red-bearded Northlander who's stood filling the doorway. _Ye there!_ He bellows, looking as drunk as I felt, _me crew have been telling tales of some fool of a boy who's been carrying on with me woman._ Well, the tavern is silent about me; what am I, a callow boy of eighteen winters to do?'

Finnis paused a moment for effect before admitting with a laugh, 'I goes to front it out, of course! _She is a free woman and I'll do as I please! _Well, this Northlander just laughs. _Oh will ye now? I'll take that impudence from yer hide with me fists, boy!_ _All right_, I says, sounding leagues braver than I feel, _outside, mate!_ So there we are, stood in the street, all the men and lasses pressed up against the windows watching. Ha! There was me thinking we are to have a bit of a brawl, when he takes up a bottle from the wall behind and smashes it! Well, this fella takes a swing at me with it and, gods, would ye not believe it, I goes and kicks that jagged bottle straight out his hand! I felt like screaming thanks to the heavens, I was so relieved. And then the bastard only goes and draws a dagger from his boot! _I'm gonna cut yer ears off,_ he says and I am surely believing by this point, but as I back into the wall behind me, I find me hand close about a loose brick. _Well, 'tis better than nothing_, I think, so I heft it up and away we go at each other, the pair of us wrestling and kicking.

'He trips me and down we go, him on top of me and me with tight hold of his hands lest his bring across that knife and cut me throat and I remember thinking to meself, _if I were him now I'd break me nose_. _Smack!_ And down comes his forehead on to me poor fine beak. Well, pain gives great incentive. I shoved him off and we both rise panting, and I decided 'tis time to make peace, 'fore I lose any other bits of meself I'm partial to. _Come now friend, I called ye out and ye beat me fair as fair, and bloodied me to boot. Why not put the knife away and we can go in and have a drink together._ Well, he took some convincing, but, at last, he nodded, bending slightly to put the dagger back to his boot and I stood there, weighing that brick in me hand and the resentment rising in me heart and I thought: _ye broke me bloody nose!_ _Whack!_' Finnis mimed clouting his opponent's dipped head with the brick and the deck erupted with laughter. It was not a story, though, that everyone found amusing.

'Was he all right?' gasped Aerie. Finnis nodded wisely.

'To be sure, flower –when he woke up, of course.'

And her concern was lost in another round of laughter.

'You did not find your attack perhaps _dishonest?_' offered Anomen coolly, Jaheira noticing more than one in their circle roll their eyes, Fritha included, the men raising their voices in the old sailor's defence.

'Ah, he got what he earned; _never turn your back on a tar, _as they say.'

'Especially, when ye've just brained 'im.'

'Aye,' agreed Finnis, 'and though it cost a dozen broke noses I say, _Never leave a woman wantin'!_'

'An admirable sentiment,' laughed Fritha over the chorus of wild approval, 'though perhaps _never leave a wanton woman_ would fit just as well with your tale.'

Roars of laughter, Finnis beaming at her with his crooked-teethed smile. 'Eee, Fritha, yer a right funny lass. I'd take a broken nose for ye any day.'

**…**

They stayed there on the deck until the sun set, the dull sea a rich molten red as the dusk drew in and everyone moved down to the galley for dinner, most of their company retiring soon afterwards, though the cold had not confined everyone below decks. Aerie leant back against her pack, gazing up the night sky and wondering how strange it would be to look up at different stars –or perhaps even no stars at all. She smiled, dropping her attention back to her studies as the man at her side turned a page in the play he was reading, the rustle of his book reminding her of her own.

Her continuing research into rune magic was usually enough to hold her interest, though that evening she was finding it more difficult to focus than usual. Just another tenday, and they would be back in Athkatla, and she and Haer'Dalis would be making preparations for their passage to Sigil. Aerie could not think about it for long without feeling a wild thrill of excitement. A year, even a few months ago, she would not have even dreamt of such an adventure, and it was as though her life was suddenly opening before her, blossoming with opportunities she had never before considered. And perhaps she was not alone in that either…

Across the deck, Anomen and Fritha were seated under the foremast, her between his knees with his cloak about them both and bathed in the golden light of the lantern above as she showed him how to play her lute. Aerie had heard him quietly pressing her for a song earlier, though the girl had refused his every request and it seemed this was her compromise, her fingers over his as she showed him different chords.

'What has you smiling so?' came the man next to her, Haer'Dalis following her gaze to grin wickedly, 'Oh, I see: a music lesson. Perhaps this bard should go and lend his skill, as well.'

'Oh, don't tease them, Haer'Dalis,' Aerie tutted, smiling as she added, 'I think they look very nice together.'

She glanced back to where they were sitting, Anomen's head over her shoulder as Fritha quietly explained some technique, the man looking perhaps less than focused on the lesson as he leaned closer his eyes seemingly drawn to the earlobe that was now just inches from his lips. Aerie beamed, barely suppressing a squeal. 'Ah, were we ever so sweet?'

Haer'Dalis snorted as Fritha brought her distracted pupil round with a slap to the leg.

'Anomen! Are you listening?'

The nearby sailors were laughing gruffly, but Anomen just laughed along with them, briefly tightening his arms about the girl and planting a firm kiss at her temple, Fritha giggling, as well, as she continued sternly, 'You asked to be shown, now pay attention.'

'Yes, Aerie, very sweet,' laughed Haer'Dalis, turning back to throw an arm about her and return to his book, the elf shifting closer to nestle against his shoulder. 'Like _Tasitus and Penelope_ given form.'

Aerie frowned, trying to bring the play to mind. 'Doesn't one of them die?'

'No, no, my love, you are thinking of _Tarquis and Ulsa_.'

'There are too many romantic tragedies,' Aerie sighed absently, pulling her cloak about her and going back to her studies, 'I prefer happy endings.'

The arm about her tightened, Haer'Dalis seemingly surprised by his own admission as he confessed, 'You know, sweet Aerie, so do I.'

xxx

'_By Sil_- I cannot _believe_ you have won again, Aerie!'

'Tymora is with me today.'

'Tymora? Why let her take the credit? It is sheer skill, my love.'

'Boo says it takes both for cards.'

'Anomen, do you want to play a round?'

'Sorry?' Anomen turned from where he was sitting on the deep-cushioned sill gazing out the mullioned windows, the grey seascape beyond distorted and rippling behind the uneven diamonds of rain-streaked glass. Aerie was staring up at him, Jaheira's Talis deck in hand, the druid herself as well as Minsc, Valygar and Haer'Dalis all watching him similarly as she repeated, 'Would you like to join us?'

'Oh, no thank you, my lady.'

They returned as one to their game, Anomen going back to the windows, their chatter lost in the squeak of the lantern swinging above them, the patter of the rain on the glass and the roar of the ocean outside.

They were coming to the end of their seven-day voyage and the last day or so had found Fritha's enthusiasm quite faded. She was more agitated now, the resumption of her nightmares making her tired and irritable. He had tried to speak to her of it, her more open moments finding her confiding to him of her worries: that she would reach the asylum to find Imoen long dead, Fritha struggling with the conflicting desires of wanting to be their to face her fear and yet being scared to find out the truth, and she spent most her time with old Finnis who would distract her with stories or songs, her lute thrumming in harmony with his old wooden flute.

As for that morning, Anomen had not seen her since breakfast. He had thought the bell for lunch may have brought her out of hiding, but the cook had seen no sign of her and Anomen had wandered dispiritedly back to the others who had gathered in the women's cabin playing cards.

'Was it tomorrow morning Saemon believes we will dock?' asked Aerie, her small hands continuing to shuffle the deck as she spoke. Valygar shrugged.

'If this wind holds.'

'Good, Boo does not trust this captain. His mouth smiles, but his eyes are cold.'

'Ah, we'll be out of here soon, Minsc,' appeased Jaheira, 'and Imoen will be back with us-'

'Yes, and we may take our revenge upon the mage! Dynaheir, you will have your retribution!'

A pause as a round of dark looks were shared about the Rashemi.

'Right, who's playing?' asked Aerie pointedly.

A chorus of assents. Anomen rose stiffly, his temples beginning to throb.

'I am going to take some air.'

The narrow hallway was cool and quiet though, and he considered that perhaps the peace of his room was all he really needed to shake the feeling, the man walking a few paces along to the next door and opening it on the small cabin he shared with Minsc, both beds empty while at the far end, curled about the large chest that served as table to them both, was Fritha, a blanket of auburn curls covering her as she slept. A nap had likely not been her intention though, not by the book that was resting open on the floor under her hand, and Anomen approached to crouch before her, the girl starting as he moved to ease the book from her fingers.

'Oh, Anomen, it's you,' she started, scrubbing her eyes, 'You gave me a fright.'

'I am sorry. You shouldn't leave your books like that, you know; I hear it ruins the spine.'

She laughed wryly, closing the book and lazily batting his arm with it. Anomen smiled.

'I thought you would be with Finnis, dearest.'

'No, he's helping Betrum secure the cargo in case this rain blows into a storm,' she answered, straightening with a wince and a shake. 'So why are you here?'

'They are all playing cards in your room and noisily enough to give me a headache.'

'Ah, poor dear,' she sighed, still smiling as she beckoned him closer, Fritha raising herself on to her knees as she patted the space before her. 'Come on, come sit here with your back to me. Cernd showed me this –now, drop your head forward.'

He did as instructed, her resting hands on either shoulder as strong thumbs worked down the back of his neck in small neat circles.

'Fritha… how soon do you plan to leave Athkatla once you have Imoen back?'

He could sense her pause, though there was no halt to her fingers.

'I'm not sure. A lot will depend on her. She may need time to recover, or not want to go travelling straight away –it is winter after all.'

'You will both stay in Athkatla then?'

He felt rather than saw her shrug. 'For the time being.'

'Then I would like to offer for you both to stay in my house. As you say, Imoen may still be recovering… she would be better in a stable environment rather than some inn. I, myself, have a room at the Order, so I will not be in your way.'

Fritha was silent, her hands motionless on his shoulders, Anomen hastening to add, 'You do not have-' He stopped as she sat abruptly back on her haunches, her face suddenly lain between his shoulder blades and he could feel her words all through his back.

'Thank you, Anomen… for everything.'

She slept the night in there with him, just lain upon his bed together as clothed as they had been when he had first arrived, Minsc snoring the bunk opposite. Anomen had fallen asleep quite quickly, though Fritha laid awake for a good while longer, just staring out into the darkness thinking about things and all the decisions that had brought her to that moment. His arm was resting under her in the narrow gap between the pillow and her shoulder, his chest against her back. Their breathing was at different rates and, every now and then, it would harmonise, both drawing a breath together, a pleasant pressure building between them.

Fritha knew she wanted to travel, her desire to see all of Faerûn and beyond it quite unchanged, but would it be so terrible to stay in Athkatla once they returned, at least for a little while?

Though there were still the dangerous and, likely now, very _angry_ vampires to contend with, she was no longer hunted by the Harpers, and perhaps it would be nice to stay in one place for a while, to live in Anomen's house and maybe help him to get his estate up and running… It could be hard and there would still likely be danger, but she would be with him and perhaps that would make it all worth it.

xxx

They docked with the dawn, the deck bustling as the sailors hurried from task to task, readying ropes and furling sails, the gulls wheeling in a cold grey sky. Fritha stood at the prow waiting for the gangplank to be lowered, her gaze fixed on the wooded crags and cliffs of the island and the ornate, many-towered manor that loomed there, another world away from the squat whitewashed houses that huddled about the harbour before her on wide, tiered streets that reminded her of the Athkatlan docks. The others were assembling behind her, eager to be away.

'Where did Linvail say we were to meet him?'

'The Vulgar Monkey –Where is that?'

'Well, m'lady, it can be found…'

Fritha let the voices fade as the captain began his directions, a warm presence arriving at her back, though she did not need to turn give the man a name.

'Soon, young Fritha.'

'Yes.'

'Boo says, little Imoen is strong; she will be well.'

Fritha squeezed the hand that had been placed about her own. 'I know.'

Minsc sighed, releasing her to move closer to the prow, his dark eyes narrowed as he took in the quays before them, men hurrying back and forth with cargo and spoils from their last raid, while others laid dead drunk in doorways as they slept off the night's excesses.

'This place reeks of wrongdoing.'

'We will not be here long.'

'You two,' shouted Jaheira behind them, Fritha turning to see the woman stood at the waiting gangplank, 'we go.'

The Vulgar Monkey was on the second tier up from the quays and quite lived up to its name, the tavern just a single cramped room, crammed with as many tables as could fit with space enough for the chairs around them, every surface covered in a greasy film of pipesmoke and spilt ale. Jaheira was at bar asking after their contact, Sanik, who, according to Aran, was in trade with Spellhold and would likely know of a way in. Fritha could feel a tense excitement quivering through her. They were so close now; just hours and she would see Imoen again, and Fritha decided quite suddenly that whatever state they found her in, as long as Imoen was alive, all would be well –she would ensure it.

But over at the bar, the stout innkeep was shaking his scarred shaven head. 'Sanik? Why, you're two hours too late, lass.'

Jaheira frowned. 'You mean he has left?'

'I mean he's dead! Happened in this very bar.' He pointed a fleshy hand to the corner where a dark red splatter stained the wall and traced a path through the tables. 'See, you can still see the trail from where they carried his body back down to his ship.'

'What happened?' asked Fritha.

'Some sort of bar fight?' offered Aerie, looking as though she could quite believe as much from their surroundings. The innkeep shook his head.

'Nah, Sanik wasn't the sort to cause trouble –at least not like that. It was Galvena; she had him assassinated -and in my very tavern, the uppity bitch!'

'And _who_ is Galvena?' asked Valygar; at least one of them was losing patience with the barkeep's tale.

'Umberlee's teat, you _are_ new!' the man laughed. 'Galvena owns the local whorehouse. She's as much power here as the Pirate Lord, Desharik, though none would dare say so. She runs that brothel with a firm hand -you'd have to, with her clients being who they are- though she treats her girls little kinder. That fool Sanik went and fell in love with Clare.'

'One of the courtesans?' confirmed Anomen. The innkeep laughed, the knight's civility amusing him enough to mimic it.

'Oh, not just one of her _courtesans_; Clare is _the_ courtesan! There's not a man on this isle who hasn't dreamt of a night in her arms –had he only the coin to afford it. Rumour has it the girl loved Sanik, too. They hatched a plan to run away together and look where it has got them: him dead and her locked up tight in the whorehouse, while Galvena makes her an example to any other girl foolish enough to try and cross her.'

'Will she kill her?' gasped Aerie.

'Oh, doubt it,' he answered with an indifferent shrug, 'not with the coin she brings in. But there are many abuses that do not leave lasting scars and, if I know Galvena, _she'll _know them all! You know,' he considered, sending their group an appraising look, 'I don't doubt the girl would be very grateful for some outside help and she may even be able to return the favour –her and Sanik were close, so they say.'

'And I suppose _you_ would not mind sending some trouble back Galvena's way after her little spectacle in here, eh?' confirmed Fritha.

The innkeep laughed quite unashamedly. 'Right you are, lass!'

'What do we think then?' murmured Fritha, their group moving from the bar as the innkeep turned to serve his other patrons, 'Worth a shot?'

'Boo says this Galvena needs to be shown that people are not property!'

'Agreed,' nodded Jaheira firmly. Fritha sighed, but forced a smile. _Soon…_

'Well, off we go then.'

**...**

The brothel had been obvious on arrival, a large building on the northern end of the quays, a company of men and women already stood outside wearing a lot of make-up and not much else for so early and cold a morning.

'Our first step should be getting inside,' murmured Jaheira, their group gathered a few yards along the docks for this final briefing. 'They will likely have guards, so stealth will be our ally here.'

'We could attend as patrons,' offered Haer'Dalis. Fritha clapped her hands together smartly.

'Right, well, I'm probably the best person, since I've had more than my fair share of experience in this sort of thing. Ah now, Anomen,' she forestalled as the knight drew a frowning breath, 'a lady doesn't kiss and tell.'

And before anyone could halt her, she had marched the short distance over to the tight-trousered, thin-shirted youth stood touting his wares on the edge of their group, the lad giving a shrill yelp of surprise as she slapped him soundly on the backside.

'Hey now, my lovely, how's about you and I step over here for a little chat?'

Jaheira rolled her eyes. 'Silvanus, give me strength… Anomen, are you _laughing?_' she demanded, the man next to her clearly fighting against it as he snorted into a large hand.

'By Helm, she is _awful!_'

Jaheira smiled; she had never felt so fond of the boy.

'Hey, you lot,' Fritha shouted from the end of the quays, 'we've reached a price, and guess what –group discount!'

Anomen looked distinctly less amused.

They followed the lad through the two doors at his back and down the long hallway beyond, past a door that was wedged open on the very lively tavern, especially considering the hour, and upstairs, the rest of their journey a maze of hallways with doors set every few paces, until he finally opened one.

'Er, if you would step in here, my lady,' he instructed, the lad seemingly daunted by their numbers as he continued nervously, 'Perhaps your friends-'

'They will join me,' Fritha interrupted smoothly, 'we will all take wine together before you and I begin.'

'Ah, yes… Well, my lady, would you like to make yourself conformable?' he offered, gesturing to the scatting of cushions that surrounded the low table, that and the bed the only furniture in there, the peeling red walls making the small room feel even more oppressive. 'Perhaps I should send for the other courtesans now?'

'Actually, there's been a change of plan. We're here to see Clare.'

'Clare? Oh, you- you are here to help her?' the lad cried and, for a moment, Fritha thought him upset when a great smile lit his young face. 'Oh, how wonderful! But you may already be too late! She is behind punished in Galvena's quarters, but Galvena is mad with anger and Clare is refusing to ask for forgiveness; one of the guards told me she plans to kill her!'

'Where is her room?' demanded Jaheira.

'Come, I will take you now,' he continued hurriedly, stepping back out into the corridor to lead the way, 'though there will likely be many guards; Galvena was worried about something like this happening –Clare is well liked upon this isle -a prize for any captain if he had the will and means to rescue her.'

'Rescue or _acquire _her?' asked Anomen coolly. The lad shrugged.

'I doubt even she would care overly much which right now, m'lord. There,' he pointed to the corner they had just reached, 'it's the door at the end and Tymora be with you.'

Fritha edged closer, risking a glance around it to see a group of six guards stood at the end of the long corridor, talking quietly amongst themselves as they lounged against the walls, picking their nails and looking bored. Well, this would likely liven up their day.

'How do we proceed?' asked Jaheira behind her, Fritha turning back with a grin.

'It's going to have to be Minsc's favourite: a frontal assault. Haer'Dalis and I will try and get through the fighting into Galvena's room before she kills the girl.'

The guards glanced up as they approached, a couple already drawing weapons as one bellowed, 'Stand ready, men!'

Fritha drew her own blade, knowing it was pointless to warn then, though she felt compelled to, if only for tradition's sake.

'We're here for Clare; stand aside!'

Yes, utterly pointless, thought Fritha, as the roar went up, the girl behind Anomen and Minsc as they charged, Valygar's arrows whipping overhead. The men met in a clash of metal, the narrow corridor hampering the fight somewhat, Fritha hanging back with Haer'Dalis until they were given their chance, Anomen, taking out one guard with his mace while pressing another two back with his shield, and they were through.

The door shut behind them and they stopped, not even the sounds of the battle just outside breaking the stillness, and they could have been in another world as they stood in that large silent room. Haer'Dalis glanced about them and raised an eyebrow; a sentiment with which Fritha could only silently agree. Galvena clearly used the same architects as Deril. The floor was tiled with great slabs of polished blue-veined marble, two scarlet chaise longues set either side of a table in one corner, while a huge canopied bed with rich purple throws and hangings rested in another, every stick of furniture gilded and lacquered with little thought as to cost or even taste.

Voices were echoing in from the doorway opposite, the shadows hiding much of the smaller room it opened on to, though, from what she could see, it was tiled throughout and Fritha suspected it was the washroom.

'Beg for forgiveness and I may yet spare you!' crowed a matronly voice, the woman's _magnanimous_ offer marking her as Galvena.

'I ask for nothing of you!' cried another, younger and hoarse in her defiance, 'I would spit on your name, but the very act is beneath me!'

'Impudent wench!

An echoed shriek as something was slapped.

'Again!'

The sound of splashing water, as though some poor sea creature was netted and thrashing in its distress, and Fritha felt suddenly sick. A torture that left no marks…

'Enough!'

Something drew a great gasping breath, no pause to the rough panting as Galvena spoke again. 'Know, Clare, you will die this day, just as that pathetic merchant of yours did. Again!'

And again the sound of splashing water. Fritha had had quite enough of this.

'_Galvena!_'

'What? Go and see who that is, Vedek.'

The third, and so far silent, player put his head around the door, the weathered face twisting with surprise as he found them.

'Ah, Galvena?'

'What is it?' she snapped and the door was suddenly throw wide to reveal a slim, tall woman of middling years, faded red hair curling about a face which could have almost been considered handsome had it not borne such an air of cruelty. Vedek sent her a smile, a hand hovering over the blade at his hip.

'It appears we've guests, m'lady.'

'Oh, you are quite mistaken, my hound,' corrected Haer'Dalis cheerfully, 'not guests, but interlopers.'

'And we are here for Clare,' added Fritha. Galvena looked outraged.

'You will receive only death!'

There was to be plenty of death found there, but it was Galvena who was to be on the receiving end, Vedek stepping up to give the woman a chance to summon her magics, though it did little to help either of them in the end. Fritha leapt forward, Haer'Dalis close behind her as she attacked the guard's flank, forcing him to turn and leaving Galvena open to the tiefling's paired blades. The magic of the spell died just moments before she did, Haer'Dalis now behind Vedek and his fate was sealed as well.

'Who are you?' came a voice from the shadows, not frightened but wary and Fritha glanced up to see the outline of a woman stood in the gloom of the washroom.

'Friends,' she answered and the shape shifted, finally stepping into the light to reveal a pale heart-shaped face, a red handprint already blossoming on one cheek, long dark hair plastered to her face, chest and arms as she stood shivering in just a drenched linen slip. The young woman smiled tentatively, soft full lips quirking and Fritha considered, even stood there soaked and bruised, she had never seen anyone quite so pretty in her life.

'Well, friends, I am Clare.' She glanced to the two dead bodies, her forehead marred with the slightest frown before she straightened to look round at them all. 'I think perhaps we should take tea.'

Haer'Dalis stepped forward to sweep the ornate quilt from the bed and offer it to her as mantle, the girl wearing it with the air of a queen as she led the way back out into the hallway. Those few guards still alive had surrendered by this point, though all straightened as they saw Clare, the woman informing them that Galvena was dead and she would be retiring to her room to change -and would they please send a servant along with tea for her and her allies. It was like they had entered another world, the three guards merely bowing respectfully and moving off down the hall, and it was clear to Fritha as they set off in the opposite direction, that Clare was a woman of great power in that place.

'In here, please,' Clare said finally, opening a door and standing back to allow them to enter a large and airy chamber. It was beautifully decorated in pale plaster and dark woods with hangings and cushions of brightly coloured silk, the only testament to her profession: a large canopied bed in the far corner, the hangings drawn about it as though to veil an unseen occupant.

'Please, have a seat,' said Clare, gesturing to a long low table and the cushions that surrounded it, and they sat as she moved behind an ornate set of screens, the rustle of her clothes as she changed the only sound.

'There,' she announced, stepping back around to reveal herself now tidied and clad in a simple brown dress, the rich weight of the fabric belying the plainness of design as she sank onto the cushions with them.

'Well, first, I must thank you for your timely intervention. At the risk of sounding melodramatic, you surely saved my life. How on Toril did you know to come for me?'

'The innkeep at the Vulgar Monkey told us of you and Sanik,' explained Fritha quietly. The woman nodded, her eyes downcast.

'Galvena told me of the assassination when she first captured me and it sealed my fate as well as Sanik's. Once I knew, I would have rather joined him in death than given Galvena the satisfaction of an apology.'

A knock at the door, a guard and servant entering at the courtesan's command, the latter setting a tray of cups and a teapot on the table, before both bowed and left without a word. Clare knelt up slightly, serving out the tea apparently without a thought, but Fritha could see the table exchanging glances and, at last, Aerie spoke up.

'Clare… why is everyone being so…'

'So…?' the woman repeated, before realisation seemed to dawn, 'So obliging? Well, why would they not? Galvena is dead by your hand; I suspect they think I hired you to rescue me and take revenge for Sanik. They are no longer Galvena's guards, if she is dead; the first rule of Brynnlaw,' she added, with a bitter smile, 'there is no loyalty, there is only gold. But the question still remains, since I am very aware I did _not_ hire you, why you did come to my aid?'

'We wished to speak with Sanik,' said Jaheira, 'we learnt he made deliveries to Spellhold and we wanted to ask him about a possible way we could enter. When we found he was dead and that you were his lady, we wondered if he had mentioned to you of a way.'

'You wish to get _into_ the Asylum?' Clare cried, 'Well, you shall be the first!'

'It is not so much that we wish to get in,' explained Fritha, 'more that we want to get someone out; my friend is being imprisoned there.'

'I see. Well, you are correct that Sanik used to deliver goods there, but I doubt he could have told you a way to enter; the path is warded with many spells which they would lift for him.'

'So we are stuck,' sighed Fritha impatiently. But Clare was sending the blue porcelain teapot before her a contemplative frown.

'Not quite…. Sanik could not have helped you, but I can. Desharik, the lord of this island has the authority to send people who displease him there and was once one of my most devoted patrons -there was even talk of him wanting to keep me on a permanent basis, but Galvena would not sell me and he took a lady of his own in the end. My name still carries weight with him though. Present yourself at his hall, the large whitewashed building on the eastern cliffs, and say I have sent you. That should get you an audience, though the rest will be up to you.'

'What will you do now Sanik is gone?' asked Fritha, Aerie hastening to add, 'We will help you to escape, if you wish.'

'Escape?' Clare repeated, looking surprised, 'Well, I thank you for the offer, but there seems little to escape from now Galvena is dead.'

'But- but surely you wish to escape from your life here as a…'

'Whore?' the woman supplied, an eyebrow arched, and the elf coloured. Claire smiled kindly. 'My dear, I can see why you may think it not something I should wish to continue in. In fact, for those forced into it by poverty or more martial methods, I imagine it would be an awful existence, but it was not so for me. This is all I have known since I was brought here as a child, and I take no displeasure in it. I was well-educated, versed in music and the arts, given fine clothes, perfumes, wines; it was not a life that held any discomfort for me. Yes, I was expected to earn these luxuries, but,' she shrugged delicately, 'work is work.'

'Well, really,' blustered Anomen, 'that attitude is rather-'

'_Mercenary?_' Clare enquired, smiling discreetly, and Fritha was forced to bite back a laugh as Anomen coloured too.

'No, on the whole, I enjoyed my time here and there is a certain pride that comes from knowing there are men who will pay an entire month's earnings for just one evening of your company.'

'Then why try to leave?' asked Jaheira. Clare sighed and took a sip of tea.

'I grew tired of it. I wished for simpler joys: a husband and children. I had met Sanik by this point; he showed a quietness of affection that stirred me and I decided that of all those I had ever known, he would be the one.' She paused, a fleeting look of intense regret crossing her face, but Fritha blinked and it was gone. 'It was only when I tried to leave that problems arose. I explained to Galvena I was quite happy to buy my way out -I had already saved enough in gifts and tokens over the years to buy myself twice over. But she would have none of it. I believe she always saw me as a surrogate daughter. I was certainly as close as she let anyone -that is probably why she took my wishing to leave so badly. Sanik and I hatched a plot of escape and when she discovered it, he was murdered and I was summoned to her for punishment. I suppose I should have been grateful –any of the other girls she would have likely killed outright for such _disloyalty_. I know it must seem awful,' Clare continued at their assorted looks of dismay, 'her cruelty here -the way she treated the women as slaves, letting them keep little more than their tips- was deplorable. But you must understand, life had treated Galvena no better in her youth; she became like she was to survive, nothing more. She was a product of this life and I can sympathise.'

It was in a contemplative silence they finished their tea, Clare gliding over to the bell pull to summon the server once more and arrange a meeting of all in the kitchens downstairs, where she announced Galvena's death and the equal distribution of the brothel coffers to great applause.

Outside, the sun had already passed its zenith and had begun its western descent. Fritha was standing on the quays, just staring across the bustling harbour and back out to the sea that had carried her there, though she glanced up as Clare arrived at her side, the woman dressed for travel in heavy fur-lined cloak and gloves, the hood drawn up over her still damp hair.

'Here, Fritha,' she smiled, handing her a large leather purse by way of greeting, 'your half of Galvena's gold; there is none here who would say you did not earn it. I have already distributed the rest among the women. Some plan to leave, others to stay and run the brothel themselves; the guards hardly care for whom they work as long as they're paid.'

'So what do you intend now?' asked Fritha, noticing the growing pile of chests that were being stacked at the woman's back by the guards, a pair of sailors carrying them one by one up the gangplank a few paces along the quays behind them.

'I have still my passage arranged from when Sanik and I planned our escape; I will go to the mainland on his old ship, see he is given a decent burial and then seek my fortune there. Galvena always said I was wasted here, I suppose now I shall get to see if she was right. Here, Fritha, I would like you to have this, it would do me well to think of you with it.' The woman passed her a small velvet-wrapped bundle, Fritha uncovering a long golden hairpin, a camellia blooming on the bridge in a filigree of scrolling metal, its centre a cluster of tiny freshwater pearls. 'It was given to me by an older gentleman who once sought my company. Such a dear man, he did not wish to lie with me, only to talk and listen to me play my harp. Said I reminded him of his daughter whom sickness had claimed some years before. Bless his soul; I did not even charge him in the end. Present it to Desharik's guards as proof of my favour –he knows of its significance to me.'

Fritha nodded, rather touched by the gesture when a mere note could have served just as well. 'I shall wear it.'

Clare smiled, nodding as one of the sailors muttered something at her shoulder about it being time. 'Well, I must go. I will remember you in my prayers, Fritha, you and your friend both.'

'My thanks, Clare, and if you ever get as far as the Gate, remember me to Rosalind.'

The woman smiled and she was gone.

'Fritha!'

The girl turned to see Jaheira stood further down the quays, the others gathered at her back. 'Come; we go!'

Their meeting with Desharik was brief, the pin Clare had given her getting them the audience they desired, the dark-skinned and surprisingly polite Pirate Lord taking a moment to ask after the lady, the man seemingly disappointed by the news she had already left for the mainland. Their requested entry into Spellhold was a cause for some concern, the pirate very keen not to do anything to cross his mage hosts. But strange noises and lights had been seen over the asylum for the past tenday and Desharik seemed quite relieved to hand over the wardstone that would grant them safe passage to the doors, the man asking only that, should they survive to return to Brynnlaw, they bring him news of what had been happening up there.

They set out. Desharik's house was situated on the highest terrace of that tiered harbour and it was only one more set of steps up onto the cliffs proper, the way to the asylum a clear shingle path through a forest of twisting pines and olive trees that grew across the rocky hillsides.

An a hour or so later and they left the trees, and there it was, towering over them, that great granite manor, its many spires peppered with small windows, the glass glinting like jewels in the sinking sunlight. Spellhold was not quite part of the main island, set precariously on the head of a rocky stack that had long been eroded away from the rest of the isle and, for a moment, their group paused at the bridge that spanned the gap, the structure looking as though it had long seen better days, the walls crumbled, here and there, into the churning seas below, and it was with a look of great resolve that Jaheira took that first step upon it.

The asylum itself was higher still, up many flights of stone stairs cut into the stepped cliffs, each plateau set with rotting wooden benches that overlooked the sea. In the warmer months, it could have actually been quite a nice place to sit and take the breeze from the ocean, and it struck Fritha that perhaps the place _had_ once been one of healing.

Up that last flight of steps and they were before it, the grand grey house looking rather dilapidated now they were closer, peeling shutters hanging from the windows, the yard before it filled with the debris of broken chairs and tiles that had been torn from the building's many towers by the near constant winds. Fritha halted, an overwhelming sense of dread freezing her where she stood as she stared up at the building. Anomen glanced back, concerned.

'Fritha?'

'I…' she began, unable to put the feeling into words. He let a hand rest on her shoulder.

'You do not have to attend, if you do not wish it. Wait here, dearest, we can return once we have her.'

Fritha shook her head, physically pulling a foot from the ground to take another step forward.

'No, I will come.'

The doors opened upon a large tiled entrance hall, a passing mage, old and stooped with a cloudy white beard, glancing up from the scroll he had been reading with a frown.

'I trust you have good reason for-' he cut himself off, his face suddenly bearing a smile as he welcomed them inside. 'Ah, come in, come in. Fritha, is it not? Why, do not look so surprised,' he chuckled kindly, 'You have been observed since your arrival on the isle. We gave Sanik orders to bring you with him when he made his delivery, though I understand he was unfortunately murdered before he could meet you. Yes, I know why you have come, too. Imoen is in good health, all things considered. Come, I shall take you to her.'

Surprised? Fritha was _stunned!_

'What? You- you are just going to let me see her –just like _that?_'

Another genial chuckled, the man's green eyes twinkling. 'Well, what did you expect? This is a place of learning and healing-'

'Where you imprisoned her for _nothing!_ You must have realised by now she wasn't mad or ill; why didn't you let her go?'

The mage shook his head gravely. 'Not mad, no, but ill… She was quite unwell when she arrived here. As I understand it, she had been held captive and most abused. She was learning magic before, was she not -though she could barely cast more than a cantrip. Well, these torments she endured unlocked great powers in her. She would have been quite dangerous had we released her in that state. But her time here has allowed for her talent to flourish within a safe environment.' He smiled again, turning to leave. 'Come, we can speak of the details of her release after your reunion.'

He swept off, clearly expecting them to follow, the mage leading them across the hall and up a staircase to their left into the main body of the asylum. Gods, what miserable place –Fritha did not like to think of Imoen spending even one night there! Every corridor he led them down was the same, plain grey walls only broken by the occasional door, a barred window giving a grim view of the cell beyond, while at her feet the tiles were etched with that same rune over and over in various sizes and hands: _suppression_.

The air thrummed with moans and whispers, their group starting more than once when a rare inmate would throw themselves at the bars of their door, howling to be let out or just spewing curses and nonsense until they passed. Their guide paid them no heed though and, finally, they came to the end of that hallway, the group stepping down into a common room of sorts, two thickly glazed windows allowing a weak light to fall across the assortment of benches and wooden chairs. And there she was, hunched forward as she sat on a bench in the back, her pale drawn face half hidden behind the lank curtain of hair, a good inch of light brown root showing before the vibrant pink dye began: Imoen.

'Here she is, Imoen,' said the mage quietly, as though trying to coax out a reply, 'did I not tell you Fritha would come?' He shrugged frankly as no response was forthcoming, the man wandering over to gaze idly out of the nearby window. 'Well, she comes and goes.'

Fritha rushed to her friend, but somehow could not bring herself to touch her as she crouched at her side, trying to catch her eye.

'Imoen, it's me Fritha, we've come to take you back home.'

Imoen did not look up, but tears began to run down her face, the girl not even lifting a hand to wipe them away. Fritha whirled back to them, livid.

'What in Hells have you _done_ to her?'

The mage glanced back from the window, seemingly surprised by Fritha's fury. 'Hmm? Oh, nothing much. Certainly nothing which I do not plan to do to you.' And Fritha felt herself begin to tremble, his cold smile piercing right to her heart. 'I had to think very quickly on that morning you escaped; the arrival of the Cowled Wizards nearly ruined everything. But then I secured Imoen, as well ,and I knew my plans would not be disrupted. I knew you would come, Fritha.'

Fritha was shaking her head, a piteous moan rising in her throat. 'No, no, no… it _can't_ be…'

'Irenicus!' concluded Jaheira for those still in the dark. Minsc's fury was instant.

'YOU WILL DIE!'

'Minsc, _no!_'

But the Rashemi leapt forward before any could stop him, his sword aloft, the flash of magic sending him crashing him back into the wall opposite where he lay groaning. His beard twitched as Irenicus set him a cold sneer.

'No, I will not.'

'How?' demanded Jaheira, 'How is this possible?'

The old mage he still wore gave a mild shrug. 'The Cowled ones brought me here and I played the role of the inmate while it suited me. Bodhi-

'_Bodhi?'_ cried Aerie. The mage nodded.

'Yes, she is my sister.'

'Oh, yes, of course,' Fritha laughed, a shrill hysteria creeping in, 'I can see the family resemblance now you mention it.'

Irenicus frowned, continuing briskly, 'Bodhi had the rest of my plans well in hand back on the mainland and, when the time came, I acted. With her aid, I was able to take control of the asylum quite quickly. The apparatus here is a little different from my own labs, but we managed, did we not, Imoen? We have been awaiting _your_ arrival with great anticipation.'

But Fritha was not about to go gentle into _his_ good night, the girl grabbing Imoen to thrust her across the room at Jaheira, the others grimly drawing their weapons, Fritha's sword held out and trained on him as she slowly backed towards them.

'Keep back, mage!'

Irenicus merely watched them impassively. 'Do not bother; I have taken every precaution that you will not be damaged. My servant –and your _captain_- Havarian, has sealed your fate. A few spell components slipped into food or drink; so simple and yet so effective.'

'_What?'_

Irenicus did nothing more than click his fingers; the seductive pull of oblivion was impossible to resist.

'There is no battle, no heroics, only sleep.'


	85. Seeking asylum

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Baldur's Gate', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. Nor do own _'Oh! Blame Not'_ by Thomas Moore. I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

- Blackcross & Taylor

**Seeking asylum**

Fritha opened her eyes to find herself alone and curled on a cold metal floor, that strange feeling of being closed in hanging on the edge of her senses and a familiar dread welled within her heart. This was not _her_ cage though -at least, not the one in Irenicus's dungeon. Fritha sat slowly, her head aching, the girl using the glass walls of the cylindrical case that surrounded her to steady her shaking legs as she rose and took in her surroundings. The room was large and well-lit by many bright lamps, the walls smooth with the same plain grey plaster as the rest of the asylum had been.

Her own glass chamber was in its centre, two rows of similar glass cases lining the walls either side of her and from what she could see, they were occupied too, though the people in them seemed drugged -either that or wholly resigned to whatever Fate had in store- the men and women standing docile as they waited. Irenicus himself was standing at the end of the leftmost row with his back to her, the man giving quiet instructions to Bodhi and Fritha swallowed, her burning throat and the pain in her head fading as her panic rose, the girl casting frantically about her for some means of escape when her eyes caught on a familiar pink bob.

Imoen was standing on the other side of the chamber and looking barely more aware of her surroundings than those unfortunate people in the cases that encircled them. That did not, however, deter Fritha from trying to get her attention, the girl jumping about, waving madly, and doing everything short of beating on the glass to raise some response. But Imoen just stared back at her, her eyes blank.

'Ah, and you have awakened, Fritha,' came the smooth emotionless voice and Fritha felt her blood chill, turning to face the man who had been her tormentor in person once and in dreams ever since, what could have almost been a smile lighting his heavy-lidded eyes, though his face remained, as ever, impassive as he continued. 'Havarian should be commended; he seems to have anticipated the dosage just right.'

Fritha ignored him, a desperate moan gurgling unbidden from her throat as she whirled sharply back to Imoen and hammered frantically on the glass.

'Imoen! Imoen, _please!_'

'Do not waste your efforts,' Irenicus cut in, 'she is quite beyond coming to your aid at the moment. Her temper has been appalling of late -not an unexpected side-effect, but with her newfound skill, a dangerous one. We have been keeping her sedated. You were so close to reaching her in time,' the mage offered contemplatively, seemingly imagining how close he had come to failure. 'She needed much more work before she was ready; why, I only performed the procedure less than a tenday ago. And as you can see, she survived the process; this bodes well for you.'

Fritha did not know what to say to this, her mind still reeling as it tried to think of some way to avert her fate, Irenicus quite oblivious as he continued, 'I must admit, I am pleased to find you like this, Fritha. You were as she was once: bright and alive of spirit even as you knew of the darkness within. Before you arrived, I wondered whether I would have to resume my experiments upon you; how delighted I was to find you quite well traumatised by the last few months.'

Fritha's instinctive reaction to this news was 'good!'; she did not want to be the subject of any more of the mage's _experiments_. But then the time it would have taken may have given her friends a chance to escape, perhaps to rescue them. But that assumed they were still alive. Fritha felt the tears well in her frustration. Things were all going too quickly, her doom rushing up to meet her as her mind dithered and searched in vain for an escape, and behind it all that pressing overwhelmingly fierce knowledge that she did _not_ want to die.

Fritha finally drew her gaze from her friend, reluctantly giving up on Imoen's help as she croaked, 'What- what did you do to her?'

But the mage just shook his bald scarred head. 'That is not for you to know. Suffice to say that I regret what must occur. I know the pain you will feel once I am done, but Imoen has suffered what she must for my cause and now you will, as well.' He stepped closer, his face distorted by the glass between them, though even that could not disguise the sudden hunger to his eyes. 'I expect something quite great from you, Fritha; you are stronger, more focused and you are aware.'

'Aware of what?' breathed Fritha; if she could only somehow keep him talking, then perhaps the others…

Irenicus had turned away again, the man moving off making a last few checks on the surrounding chambers as he continued with his exposition. 'Aware of your nature, child of Bhaal. You are aware, as she was not.'

And for an instant, all her fears gave way to utter disbelief as Fritha blurted, '_Imoen_ is a _Bhaalspawn_?'

Irenicus nodded mildly. 'Yes, you truly did not suspect? She was brought to Candlekeep and kept secluded as you were, was she not? Though I can understand why did you not deduce it; the mark of Bhaal is not as strong upon her as it is you, and her innocent nature suppressed the darkness.'

Imoen was gazing back at her, head to one side and eyes vacant like a milk cow out to pasture.

'I fear I had to show her some _very_ dark things indeed to coax it out. And now it is your turn.'

Fritha felt her head whip back to the mage, Irenicus sweeping a well-muscled arm along the line of chambers behind him. 'Do you see the thieves about you? They are the fruits of Bodhi's guild war and their deaths, if performed correctly, will force the divine soul from your body. Do not be afraid, Fritha, I suspect this will be mercifully quick.'

'What? _No! Wait!_'

And suddenly his hands were moving in a slow complex pattern, a shimmering white dust gathering between them as the man in the first case began to shake and moan.

'_Imoen!_' Fritha screamed, pounding on the glass with all her might, '_Imoen, do something!_ _Imoen!_'

And suddenly her focus changed and it was no longer Imoen at whom she was staring so intently, but her own face, the faint reflection of it in the glass before her, screwed up in her rage and desperation, and it was then she decided it. She would not die screaming, brim full of bitter anger. Fritha drew a shaky breath, closed her eyes and, all at once, she was back there, gulls crying overhead as the salt wind tore at her clothes, the warmth of his body just behind hers.

xxx

Fritha opened her eyes to a bright blue arc of sky, cotton wisp clouds drifting lazily across the sinking yellow sun, the body next to her providing just enough shade to shield her from its glare. The sand beneath her was warm and dry, the long grass whispering as a breeze rolled over the dunes and she felt the body at her side shift closer, fitting so seamlessly next to hers it was as though they had been made to match. Her head was resting comfortable in the crook of his arm, her whole world reduced to the sky and sand and that arm about her. She did not straighten to see his face. She had no will to move and no desire to either; she knew where she was.

'Am I dead?' she asked curiously. All things considered, this was not a bad way to spend eternity: laid in the arms of the first boy you loved.

There was laughter in his voice, fond and warm, and she could feel the rumble it sent through his chest.

'No, no, dear one, you are not dead, just resting; your body will awaken soon.' He sighed slightly and Fritha sensed his gaze shifting up to the sky as he asked, 'Do you remember when we were here together on the island? It was my whole world and then you arrived I suddenly realised it was not enough.'

'And yet, before you could even leave, it was all taken away from you… all because of me…'

'Ah, come now,' he scolded kindly, the arm about her tightening for a brief blissful instant, 'we all make our own decisions. That is what I must talk to you of really. You are going to face some difficult choices in the times to come, but just remember who you are, cling to it when all else seems lost.' The smile was back to his voice as he continued, 'You were something wonderful, you know, some spark I never before realised existed in the world and you were worth what happened; I did not regret it then and I still don't… remember that, Fritha…'

'Fritha?'

Someone was stroking her forehead, callused hands gently brushing the stray hair from it.

'Fritha?'

'Durlyle?'

She opened her eyes to meet the two pale blue ones staring down at her. It was Anomen. Fritha swallowed, and immediately choked back a cough, her throat scored and tickly. She lifted her head slightly from the folded cloak it had been laid upon, expecting pain, though nothing came, the others who were gathered about them, little more than outlines in the gloom.

'What happened? Is everyone here? Is everyone-'

'We are all unharmed, Fritha,' Jaheira's familiar tones cut in to halt her rising panic. 'We all awoke together in this chamber some time ago. You were here too, though many hours have passed before you showed any sign of stirring.'

Fritha nodded, trying to take this all in and feeling strange in her body as she struggled to sit.

'Anomen, Jaheira, help me stand.'

Jaheira hovered at her arm as the knight gently heaved her to her feet, Fritha getting her first proper look at the room they had been left in. It was long and quite wide, not unlike a cellar or tomb, though the air was dry, the many torches throwing light upon floor and walls all of the same smooth sandstone slabs, another six doorways leading from there. Fritha let her eyes travel upwards. The room was at least two storeys high, a wide ledge running the edge at the point where the first ceiling should have been, shuttered apertures set at intervals the walls above it and putting her in mind of the popular courtyard gardens of Amn.

Those about her looked shaken but resolute, and Fritha rather wished she could feel more shocked by this disaster as well, but very little seemed to surprise her anymore -especially if it was bad. Aerie and Haer'Dalis were standing close to each other, the elf gazing up at the high ceiling like she was trying not to imagine how far she was from the sun, Valygar's hand clenching and unclenching over the hip where the hilt of katana usually rested, Imoen stood a little way from the others, arms folded and shoulders hunched as though she was cold, though the room felt stifling. Minsc was the first to leave those gathered, the ranger striding forward, his broad face contorted with concern as he lay a tentative hand upon her shoulder, his customary rib-cracking embrace clearly deemed too fierce for her current state.

'Oh, young Fritha, Boo was so troubled when you would not awaken.'

Fritha patted the hand and tried to summon him a smile. 'Yes, well, not to worry; I'm awake now.'

'But are you uninjured?' pressed Anomen, and she could tell from his tone that he already knew the answer. Fritha just shook her head, wishing she could move away from the pair, the two men towering over her with their suffocating concern. Something inside felt wrong. If only she could get some room, get a chance to think. Jaheira frowned, stepping forward to take her shoulders and force her to look up at her.

'Fritha, what did Irenicus do to you?'

'I _told_ you,' snapped Imoen, sending the woman a mutinous glare from the edge of their circle, 'the same as what he did to me!'

A wary glance travelled those about her; the mood Imoen was in at the moment, they had clearly been reluctant to believe her.

'He- he spoke of taking my soul,' Fritha explained. 'I would not believe it possible either except…' she swallowed dryly, rubbing her chest, trying to get at some indefinable ache within, 'something's not right.'

It seemed her words had confirmed his worst fears; Anomen looked instantly beside himself, arms rigid at his sides as though he would have pulled her to him, but he was scared she would just crumble where she stood. They had not time for such things though. Fritha moved past him without a glance as the others gathered instinctively about her.

'Right, you say we've been here for a while now –has anyone tried any of these doors?'

'All of them,' answered Jaheira rather brusquely, seemingly insulted at her questioning something so obvious, 'And all are sealed.'

Fritha cast about her, the bare stone room offering no clues. 'This makes no sense. If Irenicus has what he wants now, then why not just kill us? Why leave us here?'

'Perhaps he has a further use for us yet,' offered Valygar gravely. The tiefling at his side shrugged.

'Or perhaps the mage is merely content in the knowledge of our pitiless immurement. '

Imoen snorted with a cold mirth, though Aerie reproached shrilly, 'Oh, don't, Haer'Dalis! I don't like to think of it. If I am to die, at least let it be under the sky.'

'No one is going to die!' snapped Jaheira.

'At least not yet, I hope,' echoed a familiar girlish giggle above them, Fritha whipping around and almost overbalancing in her haste. And there she was in that tattered gown that seemed to hang about her like a black mist: Bodhi.

The vampire was standing on the ledge high above them with no discernable way of managing to have got up there, the woman's grey face alight with a smile as she gazed down at them all.

'You are all awake now? Excellent! And the childhood friends are reunited once more –tell me, Imoen, was this reunion all you dreamt it would be, after so many nights here, afraid, alone-'

'_Shut up!_ ' Imoen shrieked with a feral anger, 'I'll tear your eyes from your filthy face!'

But Bodhi merely sent her an indulgent smile. 'Ah, dear Imoen: queen of the impotent threat. At least your soul now has a _worthy_ vessel, while your friend, here, served well for my brother. You were always his first choice, Fritha,' the vampire informed her, clearly thinking she should at least feel honoured by the distinction. 'At least _you_ managed to actually act against us, rather than just sitting here waiting to be rescued.'

'_Shut up!_' screamed Imoen.

'Tricking Parisa and murdering poor Reed; it was cleverly done even if all for naught.' The vampire smiled that familiar predatory grin. 'I told you that you would serve my purpose yet, Fritha. And so, your life is to come to an end. A pity. You have proven resilient beyond all expectations and I will admit, it is appealing to me.'

'Spare us your words, vampire,' growled Valygar, 'and finish us if that is what you intend.'

Bodhi let her eyes run over the ranger with an undisguised pleasure, a seductive swagger to her stance as she shifted her hips.

'Irenicus does indeed wish you dead. But he is my brother, not my master, and now you are subject to _my_ will. Irenicus can be so dour when he wishes. He is set upon revenge and can think of nothing else. A failing of his mind remaining flesh, I suspect. Undeath has given me focus and an interest in powerful creatures…' the woman turned her gaze again upon Fritha, 'An interest, in short, in you -and since you are already practically dead, I would have you finish the thing in an entertaining fashion.'

'We will not die for your sport!' fumed Anomen, though a raised hand from Fritha quelled any further outbursts, the girl regarding Bohdi with narrowed calculating eyes.

'What do you have in mind?'

'A game that you have no choice but to play. Do you see this room about you? It is the darkest part of the asylum and its history: test of clarity for its prisoners by a director that delighted in dissecting the mind. It is a masterpiece of madness that you will come to know intimately. It has been some time since I have given chase to a worth foe. Enter the maze of this place and seek an exit. I will give you a head start, say four hours, after which I come to feed.'

Jaheira snorted. 'And what makes you think we will cooperate in this? We are already dead, after all.'

Bodhi smiled, idly playing with the tattered silk ribbons that laced closed the front of her corset.

'Because there is a slim chance that you can change your fate; you may yet foil Irenicus if you can catch him… your little Bhaal twins are dead anyway, if you do not.'

'_Godless bitch-fiend!_' roared Anomen, '_I'll see you dead yet!_'

'Calm, Anomen,' soothed Fritha, though Bodhi's eye was already caught, the vampire turning to him, her face aglow.

'Such anger! It would almost be a waste to kill you. My offer is this, knightling, when I do finally catch up with you, I will take you into my clan of blood as one of our own. What do you say to being my pet for all eternity? I promise you the experience will be an enjoyable one.'

The knight looked furious all over again, calling her something that made Aerie gasp '_Anomen!',_ and Bodhi laughed delightedly.

'Yes, we will _definitely_ be keeping _you_. Now, enough of this; your equipment is in the storeroom behind you. The game is begun.'

Anomen's rage was not so easily dismissed though, the knight still screaming threats at the fading smoke.

'_Unholy whore of blood!_ _By Helm, I will tear out your un-beating heart!_'

'Anomen, calm down, please,' breathed Fritha, holding onto his arm as much for her own balance as to bring him around. 'Getting yourself in such a state, it can't be good for you.'

'It will not be good for _her_ either!' he snapped, finally dragging his gaze down to her, his face twisting in his misery as he moved a hand up to her cheek. 'Gods, Fritha, what have they done to you? I swore I would protect you and now-'

'No one could have stopped this, Anomen. You heard Bodhi; there's still a chance.'

Anomen just shook his head, crossing the room to where Jaheira was already passing out their equipment, the knight soon returning with his own belongings, as well as Fritha's sword and old leather pack.

'Do you need any help?' he fussed, as she leaned back against the wall, freeing her hands to buckle the blade at her hip. Fritha laughed wearily.

'_No,_ now stop fretting.'

But he was still frowning as he threw on his own pack and stooped to shoulder hers as well. Fritha held out her hand expectantly.

'Come on, Anomen, hand it over.'

'But, Fritha-'

'Come on,' she insisted, ignoring his pained look, 'let me carry while I can; I may well be surrendering it to you soon enough.'

He sighed defeatedly, passing it to her and proffering her his arm for balance as she heaved the bag into place with a wince.

'Are you in pain, dearest?'

'No, not as such, it feels… it feels like a hole, just a deep aching hole.'

Anomen looked stricken all over again, Fritha nearly overbalancing as an arm was suddenly scooped about her, Anomen pressing her to him as he murmured into the top of her head, 'We will get you back, Fritha.'

'Yes, of course,' she muttered, embarrassed as she felt Imoen's glare upon them, 'don't fuss.'

'Well, it seems Bohdi is keeping up her end of this bargain, so far,' came Jaheira, Fritha glancing up to find her and the others all gathering expectantly about the mouth of the storeroom, and the girl gently disengaged herself from Anomen to join them. 'All our equipment is here -Imoen's belongings, too. The vampire even provided some armour and a sword for her.'

'Of course,' mused Haer'Dalis bitterly, 'we will require all the props if we are to enact a decent entertainment for her.'

Fritha nodded, trying to ignore the queasy feeling that was rising in her stomach. 'All right, we should start by getting our bearings.' She turned to her friend, 'Imoen, are you all right to travel?'

'_Yes!_' the girl snapped defiantly, Bodhi's taunts clearly doing nothing for her mood.

'Well, everyone pair off then, we'll try the doors and get a feel of our surroundings –everyone back here in a quarter hour. Come on, Imoen, we can try this one.'

Fritha led the way, blade already drawn, Imoen behind her looking unfamiliar in the new chain shirt, a fine short sword still sheathed at her hip. The door Fritha had picked opened onto a long narrow corridor, no break to the smooth walls until they reached another door, a simple symbol of three crossed lines painted upon the wooden surface, and it was quite the disappointment when Fritha tentatively pushed it open onto another small storeroom, a chaos of vases, rugs and a couple of dusty linen chests set against the walls.

'Just some mouldy old chests,' muttered Imoen, 'let's get back to the others.'

'Wait, there could be something useful inside.'

Imoen heaved a sigh, but made no further protest -though Fritha noticed she did not join her either as she crouched to root through the first.

'So, you finally got yourself a bloke then.'

Fritha glanced up from the parchment she had been rifling through to find Imoen leant back against the opposite wall, arms folded and eyes cool.

'Sorry? Oh, yes, I suppose so…'

'Been travelling a lot, have you? Going on adventures? Making lots of interesting new friends?'

Fritha frowned, straightening slowly, Imoen's strained air of polite inquiry leaving her tense.

'Imoen, what-?'

'Four months, I've been here! _Four!_ And never a day without that mage! Always inside my head, at me, cutting and twisting and making me watch, making me see, while you were out there, playing the hero, just leaving me to _rot!_'

Silence and then Fritha's laughter, hopeless and empty, the girl slowly shaking her head. 'Gods, I should have _known_ you'd be like this. So, he showed you a few mangled corpses, did he? Murdered a few thieves and gave you nightmares, eh?'

Imoen was trembling in her indignation. '_You have no idea_-'

'No, _you_ have no idea! Look around! Khalid and Dynaheir are _dead__!_ Do you know what it's been like having to keep Jaheira and Minsc together? The things I had to _do_ to raise the coin for your whereabouts? No, it's all me, me, me, _he got inside my head, showed me dark things, cut, cut, cut._ Well, it was mehe was cutting, Imoen! Day after day in that cage being tortured; I only had to close my eyes after we first escaped and I was back there! But I forged on, we all did… for you… to get you back. So, I'm sorry… I'm sorry if that's not good enough.'

Imoen was shaking, her pale face flushed as the tears began to fall, the girl collapsing to her knees to sob into her hands.

'Oh Fritha, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.'

Fritha watched her cry, the usual stirrings of sympathy quite absent, replaced by a vague irritation that yet again it was _she_ who had to be the stronger of the pair; the one who had to come to the rescue.

_She is a burden to you._

'I know.'

Fritha dropped to her knees and put a gentle arm about the girl, slowly rubbing her back. That she did not feel herself at the moment was true enough, but the unwavering love for her friend, _that_ Fritha still remembered.

'Shhh, Imoen; I know, I know.'

'Oh, what has happened to me?' Imoen sniffed, 'To us? I can't believe I'm like you now: a- a _Bhaalspawn_…'

Fritha increased the pressure of her rubbing, her voice soft. 'There now, don't worry, Imoen; it's not so bad. I mean, it doesn't really change anything, does it?'

'How can you say that!' snapped Imoen, angrily wrenching away from her touch, 'Gods, Fritha, could you be any less sensitive?'

'Sorry', Fritha apologised flatly, not disposed to be sympathetic when that was the _exact_ same thing the girl had said to her back in Candlekeep when she had first discovered it. Imoen did not hear her tone though, the girl burying her head in her hands once more and Fritha put the arm back about her, gathering her closer as her friend began to sob.

'Why is this happening to us? Why does this _always_ happen to us?'

But Fritha said nothing this time. There was no answer to make.

xxx

They returned to the others after a few moments, no mention made of this delay. Aerie and Haer'Dalis had had the most luck, their doorway east leading up some steps to another door that had been sealed by some simple puzzle, and the group went on from there, the occasional skirmish with the assortment of creatures that had taken residence in the place, only thing to break up the tedium of the endless riddles and games that sealed every door and Fritha had to wonder at the logic of it. A maze created to assess mental stability that was so _infuriating, _thateven if you were quite sane when went in there, you would likely be a raving lunatic by the time you had managed to work your way out.

They were halted in yet another small plain room now, three doors leading from it, two of which had already been unlocked. Aerie was knelt in the room's centre drawing an arrangement of runes upon the stone floor which she hoped would conjured them a map of the place, Haer'Dalis still away with Jaheira and Minsc as they scouted ahead. Anomen and Valygar were talking in the far corner, having returned from their own search with reports of another dead-end, while Fritha and Imoen were busy working together on unlocking the last door. It seemed simple enough, a door with not one keyhole, but four, the keys to which were probably dispensed by the tile game on wall behind them. But even the usually diverted Imoen was _heartily_ sick of puzzles by this point, and the pair had taken it upon themselves just to pick the locks instead, Imoen's entire selection of picks spread out at their feet, the girl stretched up and working on the first as Fritha crouched at her knees struggling with the lowest one.

'_So…_' came Imoen's voice above her.

'So what?'

Imoen glanced pointedly over to Anomen and raised an eyebrow, a familiar smirk pulling at her mouth, and Fritha couldn't seem to help but return the gesture as she shook her head.

'Oh, Imoen, of all the times I would have missed you, this one was _the_ time.'

'Believe me, I am just as sorry I missed it as you are!' the girl cried, 'Come on then, let's have all the gory details –well not _all_ the details; I'm still a bit wobbly.'

'Imoen!' Fritha laughed, their conversation put on hold a moment as she was lost to another bout of coughing, the girl finally catching her breath to offer hoarsely, 'There is nothing _gory _to report on. We have not been together long -things have been… complicated… Anomen and I, well, it's complicated.'

'Well, complicated or not, I'm impressed,' Imoen grinned, sending another appraising look over her shoulder, 'he's really handsome!'

'Is he?'

'Fritha!' her friend cried, the pair seeming to turn as one to where the knight was still in conversation with Valygar, the ranger clearly mentioning their interest, for Anomen glanced back to send her a smile and Fritha considered he did look quite nice -not that _Imoen _needed to know that.

'Well, he's not horrible, I suppose.'

Imoen sighed deeply. 'Really, Fritha, _not horrible_. He's gorgeous and he's _clearly_ wasted on you! …So, do you love him?' Imoen asked, after a pause had allowed them to both return to their work, her question opening the sort of conversation only had when two people were paying attention to something else. Fritha sighed, struggling to hook the second pick under the unseen mechanism within and trying to gather up enough feeling to determine an answer from the cool churning void now within her.

'If I do, it is quite unlike how I ever imagined it would be. I do not know if it can last though; he is knight to an Order stationed in Amn, and Amn -well, let's just say after four months _adventuring_, I'm not so popular there at the moment.'

Above her, Imoen moved on to the next lock with a downcast look.

'I'm sorry; this is all my fault'

'What?' Fritha cried, the second pick chiming against the floor as it slipped from her struggling fingers, 'Imoen, you can't be serious- Really, do you think I ever thought that for a moment? It could have been any one of us in the same situation. Even I know enough magic to get myself into trouble when necessary.'

'Yes, but-'

'Oh, ifs and buts; we can play that game all night, but I'll start. _If_ I had been taken instead of you, would anything have stopped you coming for me?'

Imoen smiled. 'Nothing.'

'Well, there you go then,' Fritha confirmed with a sanctimonious nod, a satisfying click from the lock she was working on punctuating the sentence. 'You ready?'

Imoen nodded, Fritha moving out to the way as she deftly unpicked the third and final lock, the pair pushing the door open on-

'And it's… another storeroom,' sighed Fritha. Imoen scowled at the chaos of chests and old furniture within, clearly feeling betrayed after so much effort.

'What is with this place? Did they just run out of space in the attics and decide to dump all their rubbish down here?'

'Probably. Come on, let's see if we can't find something of use.'

**…**

Anomen smiled, the two girls opposite turning back to the door they were working upon with a shared laugh.

'Be wary of that look, friend,' warned Valygar with a smile of his own, 'it always means trouble.'

Anomen had been about to tell the man _that _was one of the things he liked most about Fritha, though Jaheira's call from the other room cut him off.

'Valygar? Minsc has found tracks he wishes you to look at.'

The ranger excused himself with a nod, Anomen finding himself almost alone, Aerie looking like she would not appreciate any disruption as she worked on her runes, while the two girls had finally managed to open the door and had disappeared into the room beyond.

Anomen could hear them as he approached, their soft chatter echoing slightly in the bare stone of the chamber as they examined the contents of the chests and jars. Fritha was fingering a scrap of cloth she had found, fine and faded in the torchlight.

'…says he would see me clad in Calimshite cotton and Kara-Turan silk,' Fritha smiled, shaking her head in a bemused sort of way as she tossed it back into the chest at her feet.

'Ha! The only thing he wants to see wrapped around you are crisp linen sheets!'

'Imoen!' Fritha choked, colouring as she began to cough and turning only to go an even deeper shade of pink as she finally noticed him stood in the doorway. 'Anomen!'

Her friend snorted, lost to laughter, Fritha looking at first like she would have joined her, but the coughing became more insistent, the girl throwing a hand against the wall for support as she began to retch. Anomen crossed to her side, a hand upon her back.

'Just breathe deeply, dearest.'

'Er, I'll, ah…' Imoen made herself scarce.

'How are you feeling?' he asked quietly, as she finally calmed, Fritha collapsing to sit heavily on the dusty chest behind her.

'I'm fine -don't fuss,' she croaked impatiently, battling away his hand as he tried to feel her flushed forehead, 'I'm just a bit queasy.'

Anomen sighed, dropping to sit next to her. 'You seem strained.'

'Are we _surprised_?' she barked, already shaking her head in apology, 'I'm sorry, Anomen, I didn't mean to snap, I'm not feeling myself.'

'It is to be expected,' he assured her gently, 'you have undergone much.'

Fritha looked for a moment torn, her lips pressed together as she turned from him to confess, 'Yes, but it's not just what Irenicus has done… When I came here, to Spellhold, it wasn't just about rescuing Imoen. I mean, it _was,_ it's just… I was supposed to get her back and then _I_ would be free too. I've put so much of my life on hold since leaving Candlekeep; there always seemed to be something more important than me that I had to focus on: stopping Sarevok, averting the war, rescuing Imoen and now… now I'm dying.' She glanced to him, her eyes overly bright. 'What if we don't reach Irenicus in time, Anomen? There was so much I wanted to do and see; I will have wasted my life…'

'Oh, Fritha…'

'Please, don't,' she muttered, leaning back from the embrace he would have closed her in, 'I'm just being silly.'

'We _will_ get your soul back,' he pressed, trying not to feel hurt by her rejection, but she just nodded.

'Yes, I know.'

She drew a deep breath, presumably to calm herself, though it did nothing but start another round of coughing.

'Here,' he sighed, passing her his flask. The girl just stared at it with watery eyes.

'You recall, Anomen, what Jaheira said about rationing out our water? '

'Yes.'

'And you see the reason to it?'

'Yes.'

'Anomen, I can't; what she said made sense.'

'Yes, it did,' he agreed, 'There was much sense and reason to what she proposed… but, I am not a man of reason, not when you are like this. Please, dearest,' he sighed, pressing the flask into her hand, 'you look half-dead.'

'I- Thank you, Anomen' she conceded, tipping it back for a quick draft, her eyes going wide as it caught her throat. 'Oh, b-_bad ide-ha_.'

**…**

'How's it going there, Aerie?'

Aerie glanced up, the intense concentration leaving her momentarily lost as she stared up into an unfamiliar pale face; it was Imoen.

'Hmm? Oh, fine -should you not be with Fritha?' she added with a frown, but the girl shook her head, pink hair dancing.

'Nah, she's being sick. Doesn't need any more people gawping at her -only make a bad situation worse. Oh look, now even Anomen has been dismissed –can't be pretty.'

Aerie watched as a very harrowed Anomen appeared the doorway opposite, the man running a hand through his short brown hair and looking much older than she was used to seeing him as he lent against the frame. The elf sighed; it was not easy to watch those cared for suffer.

'So, what are you doing?' Imoen asked, bringing her attention back to the circle of chalk runes before them.

'I was just trying to summon a map by using the latent magic that may have seeped into the stones down here over the years to create a scaled down image of all the boundaries.'

'Oh, you're using Halukiln's theory of Inert Absorption and a Transference Circle, are you?'

'You've heard of them?' Aerie confirmed, more than surprised, 'Fritha said you were educated in the Art, though I did not think it was to this level.'

Imoen laughed. 'Yes… well, four months in a magical insane asylum and you're bound to pick up a few insights here and there.' She dropped green eyes to the circle at their feet, the ring of seventeen complex chalk runes running about the edge. 'This _should_ work -oh, except you've got the rune for power after the rune for sight -they need to be the other way around.' And Aerie let her take the chalk from her unresisting fingers, Imoen smudging out the two runes to redraw them with a flourish, 'There!'

Aerie was astounded. 'How did you-?'

'Ah, you've probably just been looking at it too long,' the girl dismissed briskly.

'Too long? Perhaps so, I've been studying rune magic for the past month; I can easily see why one so far untrained would be able to just come in and realign a half hour's worth of work.'

Imoen flushed, rolling the chalk between thumb and forefinger. 'I've been learning more ever since I got here really. The others -the other inmates- would show me. So would some of the mages –the nicer ones, anyway… But since it's been gone -my soul, I mean- well, it comes much more easily.'

'The magic?'

The girl shrugged, looking uncomfortable. 'Yes, mostly. It's like my mind is quieter and I can see links and patterns more clearly. Sometimes when I'm casting, I can even feel the magic inside, feel the route it wants to go, to make it stronger, or to change it. Irenicus was interested in the side effect -he showed me things, said I was special, said that now I was aware, my power could be limitless…'

'Because of the Bhaal essence,' confirmed Aerie. Imoen nodded, a determined frown creasing her broad forehead.

'Yeah, and if that is where this power comes from then I don't want it! Hells, it could make me Queen of all Toril and I _still_ wouldn't want it! I just want my soul back -and I'm going to get it too!'

'For someone who has lost their soul, you seem remarkably positive,' offered Aerie. Imoen shrugged.

'Well, I could just angst about being miserable, but I leave that to Fritha.'

'I heard that!' barked a voice behind them, the pair whirling to see Fritha, flushed, though thankfully smiling, Imoen straightening with a grin as she and Anomen approached.

'Ah, you look much better, Fritha; I always said pink was your colour. And just in time too,' Imoen laughed as Minsc appeared in the doorway, Jaheira, Haer'Dalis and Valygar just behind him.'

'Did you find the way through?' asked Fritha eagerly. Valygar nodded once.

'We believe so.'

'Well, gather round,' announced Imoen, 'because Aerie's just about to go one better.'

Aerie smiled, the girl's good humour was infectious, and she felt the others assemble around her as she summoned her magics and lightly tapped the first rune to set off a surge of power, each rune igniting the next as light swept around the circle and a plan of glowing blue lines was suddenly etched within.

'_Ta-da!_' sang Imoen.

'Is that a map?' gasped Jaheira. Fritha looked overjoyed.

'That's brilliant, Aerie!'

'Well, it wasn't just me; Imoen helped.'

'Either way, someone make a sketch; I do not want to be in here when Bodhi begins her hunt.'

But there seemed still little risk of that. Aerie's plan had speeded up their advance considerably and Jaheira estimated they had been down there for about three hours with their goal but a few rooms away, the group heading for a likely looking set of stairs that led up out of the labyrinth. They were making swift progress and hopes of catching Irenicus were high… which was clearly causing concern for _someone_.

'All right, which way is it?' asked Fritha as they reached yet another crossroads, Jaheira frowning at the parchment she held.

'Left, perhaps…'

Imoen skipped over to the door, which thankfully required nothing more than the twist of the handle.

'Nope, another store- Ooo, books.'

'Doesn't the map say?' sighed Valygar.

'Well, it _should_, but the lines here are smudged,' explained Jaheira with an accusatory glare to their blue-haired cartographer.

'_Oh!_ _Blame not the bard_ -Anomen knocked into me.'

'I did _not!_'

'Here, this way,' decided Jaheira, pointing to the doors opposite, Fritha stepping forward to push them wide, the shadows beyond seeming to swirl in the rush of air.

'Oh, you weren't thinking of leaving were you?' trilled that high voice and Fritha danced hastily back, drawing her sword as Bodhi stepped from the darkness, a cadre of three of her fellows at her back. 'I'm afraid this hunt draws to a close here and now.'

'What?' shouted Imoen, 'It's not been four hours!'

Bodhi sent her a girlish pout. 'I know I'm early, but I just couldn't _bear_ to see you leave.' The vampire stooped slightly, body tensed and ready to pounce, 'You were an interesting diversion, but this game is _over!_'

At any other time, Fritha would have been immediately shouting orders to the rest of them, but it seemed all that was able to pass through her anger at this utter injustice was a single word, screamed with the ferocity of any battle cry.

'_YOU!_'

Bodhi drew back her arms, ready to welcome the girl, the smile rigid on the vampire's face as Fritha stumbled, her blade clattering to the stone tiles as she writhed and twisted, hands tearing at her own skin, and her scream pierced the air as a creature twice her size suddenly burst from her body, as though she had just turned inside out.

Everyone froze, seemingly transfixed by the beast that had taken her place, all black bone and viscera, long clawed arms swinging to its knees, its spiked muzzle holding row upon row of needle sharp teeth. Bodhi looked petrified, the vampire pushing one of her brethren before her as shield as she turned to flee, her back spattered with blood and innards as her comrade was shredded between its claws.

Bodhi and her remaining companions were gone in an instant, the beast whirling in the smoke they left, its rage instantly focused upon those behind it. The group were already scrambling for the door, Jaheira's orders echoing about them.

'Everyone, fall back to the next room, bar the-'

Anomen's scream cut her off, his mace skidding across the floor as the creature leapt forward with a speed none could have anticipated, claws tearing through his armour to leave his arm a tattered mess of flesh. Jaheira dove before him, staff whistling through the air to catch the beast ineffectually across the shoulder, the creature ignoring her as it stepped back to ready its final strike.

It lunged and she fell, the room silent as they stared at their beast, now no more than a heap of limps and bright auburn curls. Fritha was groaning quietly, struggling to raise herself on twitching limbs, every jerked movement causing a start from those gathered about her, their weapons still drawn.

Anomen watched her from his position a yard or so away, lent back against the wall with a hand clamped about his arm in an effort to slow the bleeding, the pain and the nauseating feeling of that slick mess of torn muscle under his palm making him faint.

On unsteady legs she finally stood, Fritha gazing about them all as though trying to make sense of who they were, when her eyes caught on him and he could see the dawning realisation as her face fell, a trembling hand held over her mouth as she breathed, 'Oh gods… oh, Anomen… I- I'm so sorry, I…'

He stared down at her, this girl who but an instant before had worn the twisted snarling face of his imminent death, his voice barely a whisper as the words left his lips.

'You- you are a _monster_…'

She looked like he had slapped her. Panic filled him, a bloody hand thrown out to grab her arm as she turned away.

'Now, Fritha, my heart- my love- I did not mean- Fritha, _please!_'

She shook him off without a backward glance, continuing her steady limp towards the nearest door. Imoen broke from the others and closed to her side, throwing a comforting arm about her shoulders, but the girl gently shrugged her off with a shake of her head, slipping through the door alone and Imoen's focus redirected instantly.

'_You!_' she shrieked, storming over to Anomen and Jaheira nodded to Minsc just in time, the ranger stepping forward to scoop her about the waist.

'Come, little Imoen, Minsc and Boo would have words with you,' he rumbled genially, pulling her off back down the corridor they had just travelled, Haer'Dalis and Aerie gathering in the corner opposite, the former sending him a poisonous glare as Valygar offered uncomfortably, 'I will go and scout ahead.'

Anomen started at the touch; Jaheira was at his arm.

'Here, let me look at that.'

Anomen shook his head, still dazed as he made to follow Fritha. 'No, I have to speak to her, I have to-'

A gentle hand against his chest halted him, Jaheira's eyes dark with sympathy.

'Not just now, Anomen, she will need a moment.'

xxx

The door clicked shut behind her, the sounds of the others echoing in the stone corridor beyond suddenly muffled and in the silence Fritha, at last, felt able to breathe. She stood there, the storeroom about her lined with shelves all filled with decaying books and leaving her with the strange sense she was back in the archives. It was as though all the energy had seeped from her limbs, Fritha collapsing against the nearest bookcase, fingers clasped weakly about one of the shelves as she began to sob, alone save for the dust and vellum.

Her legs buckled and suddenly she was on her knees, howling in her misery like some wounded animal, her tears falling to bead on the moth-eaten rug beneath her. The pain inside was no longer dull, but a fierce ache, her hands pressed to her chest as she struggled with the urge to just reach inside and tear it from her. What was _happening_ to her_?_ _Why? _Why did it always happen to_ her?_

_Ah, my lamb, my pet, I know, I know, don't cry. _

And why had he said _that_? Of all he could have said, why _that_?

_Oh, there now, it's not your fault. We should have known this was coming. You worked so hard, through Nalia's desertion and Jaheira's betrayal, all so you could come here and have Imoen spit on your efforts! And the knight; well, it is not the first time he has called you such, is it? He has likely always borne these feeling in his heart._

They came rushing back to her in an instant, Fritha feeling every old betrayal and crossed-word with a fresh sting, but where came the usual forgiveness there was only anger- cold and hateful.

_It's not their fault; they are weak. But you can't rely upon them anymore, not if you want to survive this; you understand that, don't you?_

Fritha's tears had ebbed by now, giving way to shaky hiccupped breathing, her body still trembling with the emotions as she whispered, 'Yes.'

_Good. Ah, don't worry, my petal, we will get through this -just you and I._

Fritha nodded again, her head dipped as fresh tears began to well.

'Yes.'

xxx

Aerie watched the pair on the far side of the room, Anomen still bloody and dazed as Jaheira slowly wound the bandage about his arm. How small they both looked; how small and lost, just like she was. Had it even been but a day or so before they were all still upon that ship, full of hope and plans. At her side, Haer'Dalis was watching the pair too, or one of them at least, the tiefling shaking his head as he glared at the knight.

'Ah, the hound ever was one for speaking his mind –_unfortunately_.'

'Haer'Dalis, he clearly did not mean it.'

A snort behind them. Imoen and Minsc had returned, the girl shifting unforgiving eyes back to Anomen.

'He _said_ _it_, didn't he?'

'Boo knew it would be so, that the knight was not strong enough to court our Fritha, but none would hear him.'

'That is unfair!' cried Aerie, unhappy at discovering she was surrounded by such callousness. 'It was such a shock for him, for all of us –that she could just become that- that creature; who among us might not have said the same in similar circumstances?'

'Well, as far as I can see, none of us,' sneered Imoen, utterly unmoved, 'We were all there when she changed; only _Anomen _started banding about the M-word.'

Aerie dipped her face to rub her forehead with a weary hand, giving up on trying to convince them. 'Ah, how much worse can things get?'

'Well, don't look at me,' snapped Imoen, 'my soul's been gone for days and I've never so much as sprouted a single talon.'

'What was that creature?' asked Haer'Dalis. The pink-haired girl shrugged.

'I'm thinking some sort of avatar of Bhaal.'

'Truly?' Aerie gasped, 'But for Fritha to be taking on divine representation of a god, she can't just be tainted by the Bhaal's essence, she would be little else!'

Imoen looked supremely unconcerned. 'You take someone's soul, what's going to be left?'

Haer'Dalis looked in awed. 'The living embodiment of destruction and death; I always knew she was special.'

'Steady on there, lover,' Imoen snorted.

'Imoen!'

'Boo says that was not funny.'

'Yeah, well from where I'm stood, not a lot is.' Imoen sighed, gaze drifting over to the door opposite. 'Someone needs to go and talk to her.'

'I will go; Minsc and Boo have nothing to fear from young Fritha.'

But before he could even get one pace from them, the door swung back of its own accord, Fritha stood in the mouth looking small, pink-faced and rigid in herself. She raised a hand instantly to forestall the rush of questions and reassurances, her voice hoarse and gurgling with her still running nose.

'Bodhi will likely be telling all to Irenicus as we speak. Come, we should hurry.'

Valygar met their advance, the man returning with news that the way to the exit was clear and they followed him through the last few rooms to finally gather before a dark stairwell, the air there cooler and slightly brackish.

'Here,' the ranger offered, his eyes gazing unseeing up into the darkness, 'I believe this leads up to the main levels of the asylum.'

Fritha nodded, clearly trying to force a resolute confidence to her stance as she turned to address them. 'Right, Irenicus may well be up there, and his sister too; prepare for a fight.'

The stairs were dark and cool; every step upwards should have felt like one out of Hell and yet how could it when he was carrying the feeling with him. Anomen closed his eyes, enjoying the pain in his shoulder and having to wrestle himself away from the desire to catch it against the wall next to him, a pain of one sort to mask the pain of another, his guilt at what he had said leaving him feeling so wretched, it was all he could do not to curl in upon himself as he watched the head of auburn curls bobbing just above him.

The word left his mouth in a croak. 'Fritha?'

The girl halted on the step above him, her face still pink and blotchy, even in the gloom, and much more imperious than he had ever recalled seeing it.

'Yes?'

The coldness to her voice was almost more than he could bear.

'Fritha, please, what I said, I-'

'Do you wish to apologise?'

'Yes!' he shouted, the cry echoing about them, 'Yes, of course, I do! Fritha, I am so sorry, I-'

'Fine, apology accepted,' she cut in abruptly. 'Now you must do something for me, Anomen: _stay away_. Don't touch me, don't talk to me, don't even _look _at me, because I can't control my temper like I used to and I really can't say what I'll do.' She was still staring down at him, eyes wide and body stiff, a blink dislodging tears that were duly ignored. 'Understand?'

He said nothing, not trusting himself to speak as he watched her stood before him, angry and defiant and crying.

'_Well_?' she continued, her voice gaining a shrill edge as her temper rose and he managed a stiff nod. It was as though something snapped within her. She sighed once and nodded as well, dapping her eyes on the sleeve of her tunic as she turned away from him, sweeping up the last few steps at a pace that took her to their head, the girl immediately throwing open the doors as though to welcome all Spellhold could throw at her.

In the corridor beyond, Saemon Havarian froze mid-step.

'Oh, ah,' he faltered, glancing briefly back to the corridor before him and clearly trying to assess whether he could make a run for it. He quickly came to the conclusion he could not, turning to greet them with his customary winning smile. 'Well, hello there, I see that you have weathered the storms of this place with reasonable pluck and health. It does me good to see you all alive.'

Fritha stared at him a moment, his face a smiling mask just mocking the emptiness within her. Her fist came out of nowhere. Saemon staggered back, a hand cradling his nose as blood gushed onto his fine linen shirt.

'Oh, _Umberlee's teat_, _my nose! You've broken my bloody nose!_'

Fritha already had him by the collar, the whole head's difference in their height proving no obstacle as she shook him violently, his blood spattering them both as he struggled.

'Yes, and your neck'll be next if you don't give me an _astoundingly_ good reason not to!'

'Please, I do not wish to be your enemy here, I only followed orders; once I was in his service there was no leaving it outside of death.'

'And where is your master now?' demanded Jaheira.

'Gone! He and his bloodsucking sister fled as soon as she'd returned. They murdered the last surviving prisoners here, the jailor too, then took a portal in his private chambers -it leads to the Underdark.'

A mutter of surprise and reluctance rippled about them. Fritha released him, her gaze cool.

'That is… unfortunate. Well, it looks as though you have just outlived your usefulness, Saemon.'

She was drawing her sword, the captain hastening to stall her.

'No, wait, wait! I have another plan should you not wish to follow him so directly.'

'Make your words count, Havarian, they will determine how long you live.'

'I- I have a ship. I will take you back to the mainland and you can get the Shadowmaster, the Cowled Ones, even the Order as allies in this hunt. Many will desire revenge for what happened here, and there is more than one route into the darkness.'

Fritha glanced about her. As ideas went, even through her anger, she could see it wasn't a bad one; the Underdark held worse dangers than Irenicus and ones they were ill-equipped to face just then. And it seemed from the round of nods that the others were in agreement. Fritha let her blade slide slowly back into its scabbard.

'All right then, after you, Saemon.'

He nodded nervously, straightening his shirt and producing a handkerchief for his dripping nose, something of his previous swagger returned as he made to lead them out.

Fritha followed, though her heart was hardly in it. All that she had done, all that she had suffered to get there and now she was likely going to die, eaten away by the emptiness within.

What a joke life was; what a cruel, miserable joke. And the last sound to echo about those desolate halls was not the raving of the mad or even the chants of the mages, but her laughter: shrill and loud and as hollow as her heart.


	86. Not waving

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Baldur's Gate', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Not waving…**

She could have still been dreaming. They stepped outside into a pale dawn, gulls crying unseen in the mists that wreathed the isle and, with the salt air and roaring sea, she could have almost been back on that island with Durlyle. It promised to be a fine day once the fret had burnt off. Fritha could certainly sense the others' relief as they left the grey gloom of the asylum to taste the air once more. And then it came, the harsh chatter of voices over the patter and scrape of footsteps on the stone steps before them.

'Come on, lads, who knows what pickings this place will yield now those wizards have deserted it.'

'Yeah, but are you sure-'

Those behind her were already creeping back from the steps, quietly drawing weapons, though Fritha made no move, just watching as a group of men slowly emerged over the cliff's edge, the third one in their line more than familiar, his russet skin paler now they were out in the open, though the pitiless look to those narrow black eyes was unchanged.

'I still don't see what's going to be in this madhouse.'

'It were full of mages, weren't it? Who knows what magics they will have left as they fle- Well, who have we here?' the red-skinned man cut in, as his eyes found them, men still continuing to trip up the steps behind him and Fritha counted ten in total as he continued, 'Mages is it, or perhaps madmen?'

Fritha shook her head. 'Neither, Ehid.'

'How did-?' He gasped, his eyes wide as he suddenly recognised them, '_You?_ You're those bastards who closed down our Athkatla operation! And Saemon Havarian, as well, is it?' He chuckled unpleasantly, drawing his sword. 'You've a surprise waiting for you back in Brynnlaw –a pity is doesn't look like you'll live to see it.'

'Slavers!' roared Minsc, raising his blade, 'Boo says you will harm no other!'

'Ha! That fire will serve you well in the pits!'

Fritha stared back at him, the familiar cold rage creeping up her spine as her muscles began to stiffen. 'Ehid, this is your first and last chance; turn around and leave.'

He grinned and Fritha felt a familiar rage tremble through her heart.

'A pearl to the one who brings me her head!'

She whirled to those behind her, screaming the words while she still had a voice to make them.

'_Get back inside! NOW!_'

**…**

They huddled together, pressed before the doors in that cold, empty hall. The screaming had ended a while ago, but no one had dared open them, Imoen finally dropping to look through the keyhole and give them the all clear.

Fritha was sitting, half slumped on the stone steps, Ehid laid across the path beneath her, one glassy eye staring up from half a face, while a few other bodies, whole and partial, lay scattered about him. The tracks in the sandy path indicated a frantic scramble away, and she did not wait for them to ask to confirm, 'Most of them ran. I didn't pursue them… I stopped myself… I waited until it had passed. I'm very tired; can we wait here a while and walk back to the town later, do you think?'

xxx

Aerie pulled her cloak about her, leaning into the Haer'Dalis, the man giving her shoulders a comforting squeeze. Their group had left the asylum's grounds not long ago, crossing the bridge and walking for a mile or so through the woods before they stopped to make camp, the fire doing little to lift the cold that seem to have crept into her very bones. Their group were seated about the crackling firepit, the space that would have usually been Fritha's now taken by Saemon, the captain hunched forward and dabbing at his still bleeding nose, that no one, not even she, had yet seen fit to tend. As for Fritha herself, she had left before the fire was lit, the girl immediately dumping her pack and marching from the small clearing to stand on the cliffs just beyond it, the blue of her tunic still visible through the gnarled weather-beaten trunks. Across the fire, Jaheira drew a deep sigh.

'I understand what we discussed previously, but with Fritha's… _illness_ come to light, I think we should perhaps re-think matters.'

'_Illness?' _snapped Imoen, 'She's not diseased, Jaheira! You don't understand how- how it feels…'

'We cannot desert her,' added Anomen. Imoen's anger instantly grew threefold.

'And _you_ can shut up! Don't you even _speak_ about her after-!'

'Will you keep your voices down!' hissed Aerie, the elf sending a wary glance to the cliffs and the figure still stood there.

'Indeed,' agreed Jaheira, 'Imoen, calm yourself; no one is speaking of deserting her, but there is a worry that she is in no fit state to continue.'

'No, you don't understand! She has it under control now!'

'Until she changes,' sighed Jaheira, and not without some sympathy. 'Once she has… well, you saw what happened to Ehid. But Fritha is right in one thing; we should return to Athkatla, reorganise ourselves -we can decide then what to do about…'

The druid glanced to the cliffs and did not seem able to finish.

'What I do not understand is why Irenicus removed your souls to begin with,' came Valygar, finally breaking the silence. Imoen shook her head.

'I don't know; Irenicus told me that my soul healed his sister and that Fritha's would do the same for him.'

'They were dying?' asked Aerie. Imoen just shrugged, Saemon using the opportunity to finally speak up, his once mellow voice now comically nasal.

'So it would seem from their actions, though the nature of their particular malady was never mentioned to me.'

'Souls can be used in medical alchemy,' Aerie offered, though a part of her was already ruling it out as a possibility, 'but only very dark magic and it could not sustain you for long…'

The captain sniffed, dabbing the bloody handkerchief to his nose as he continued with a wince, 'I know little of his plans from overheard conversations between him and his sister. He works to get more power, a god-like power so he said, though I have heard many men boast of similar prowess and been just as mortal as the rest of us. That, and he plans revenge upon his former home.'

'Athkatla?' came Valygar with a frown. Saemon shrugged.

'Who can say, though I doubt it; that pair weren't long arrived in the city when they took me into their service. All I know is where Irenicus is headed now: through the Underdark to the elven city of Suldanessellar.'

'But why go there?' asked Aerie.

'Perhaps to take another artefact of great power,' offered Jaheira, 'The elven city is ancient and strong.'

'And why go through the Underdark?' questioned Imoen. Anomen sighed grimly.

'To get allies along the way.'

**…**

Fritha stood on the cliff's edge, letting the sound of the others wash over her, an unwelcome distraction to her peace. The whole world seemed noisier than before, and yet somehow quieter, too, as though she could suddenly hear everything, but adjust her focus to block out the rest. Strange, very strange… She focused upon the sea in the end, that great surging roar as it sucked and buffeted the foot of the cliffs. Brynnlaw was laid in the cove far below her, a huddle of pale buildings clustered about the harbour. The breeze was off the sea and she closed her eyes, letting the salt air take her back to another time as the wind tore at her clothes. Just stood, toes meeting the edge and rocking on the balls of her feet, teasing herself with the idea she could end it all at any moment.

Forward, back, forward, back, for-

'Fritha?'

Anomen startled her so she actually jumped, overbalancing as she turned and if he had not grabbed the hand she flung towards him, she would have fallen to her death. He pulled her forward with a jerk and she stumbled into him, his arms closing instinctively about her.

'Anomen! For the love-! Never-!' she gasped, her fright leaving her furious, the girl hitting any part within reach though he seemed not to notice, still pressing her to him and looking faint, his eyes fixed on the cliff's edge.

'Get off me!' she snapped, finally calming enough to push him off, 'Stay away from me, do you hear?'

But he said nothing and, after a moment, she stormed past him, stalking the few paces into the centre of their camp to fling herself down next to her pack, the look she sensed shared over her dipped head doing nothing for her mood. A loaded silence, Jaheira bravely taking up the gauntlet to begin, 'Fritha, you are back; we need to speak to you of our plans.'

'Oh, I am to be consulted then?' she inquired coldly, 'Very good of you. As for _our_ plans, _we_ will return to Athkatla, find what allies we can and begin our hunt for Irenicus. Yes?'

A round of murmured assent; Fritha smiled tightly. 'Good.'

She left it just long enough for them to relax.

'_And_ there will be no more talk of leaving me behind either. Understood? Good.'

Fritha did not linger after this brief exchange, taking up her bag and moving off a few paces through the trees to just bed down under her cloak, and it was not until a few hours later she returned, informing them all she was feeling better and was ready to leave for Brynnlaw.

Anomen walked along, the trees whispering about him, the cool air fresh against his face, a weak sunlight filtering through the clouds to dapple the path before him; all those small eternal joys she had once revealed to him, now just serving to remind the man of what he had lost. Fritha was just ahead of him in their formation, Imoen at her side as the girls talked quietly, Imoen's occasional giggle eliciting a smile from Fritha, slight and world-weary, and every time the desire to reach her would ache within him even more fiercely. He was dreading this, dreading finding out just what was left between them now Fritha had calmed enough that her words could no longer be blamed upon her anger. But it was no good; he just had to know.

Imoen's welcome was expectedly venomous. 'What do _you_ want?'

'To speak with Fritha.'

The girl in question watched him, her face impassive, and he thought she would just turn back to their path when, at last, she nodded.

'Imoen, give us a moment…'

'But-'

'_Please,'_ Fritha pressed, and in a tone that indicated it was anything _but_ a request. Imoen shot him one last filthy look and dropped back to walk behind them.

Alone, at last, at least relatively, and Anomen had to force the word from his throat.

'Fritha.'

'Up, up, up,' she corrected coolly, '_my lady_, if you please.'

Anomen was so hurt, he almost called her something _a lot_ less formal. Fritha watched as he drew a deep breath and dipped his head to acquiesce, 'My lady, may I speak with you?'

'Of course, Anomen, what do you want?'

Anomen felt his insides groan; this coldness was so much worse than her anger.

'Fritha, I am _so_ sorry. I know what I said-'

'Was what you felt…' she cut in gravely, 'and I accepted your apology for it back in the asylum. Anomen, I really do not see the point in this discourse if you are merely going to reiterate your regret.'

'Fritha, _please_, do not do this. I know I am not the best of men, but…' he trailed off, no excuse to give her, 'Fritha, I am just very sorry.'

The girl sighed, nodding slowly. 'As am I, Anomen, as am I. Ah, I should have seen this coming really -Firkraag said you would betray me.'

'_Betray_ _you?_'

Fritha laughed gently. 'That's _exactly_ what I said! How could you possibly do that? We had made each other no promise…' She shook her head, frowning as though trying to make sense it herself. 'But then something happened, I'm not sure when, perhaps that evening you took me out or maybe even before. But something happened and there _was_ a promise between us, a feeling we shared, that you'd stand by me, that you would understand… and you _broke_ it! It could have grown, you know. I could feel it inside, here,' she murmured distractedly, laying a hand on her sternum, 'Sometimes it even frightened me… But it is gone now. I am empty.' She turned to him, eyes stern once more. 'Do not pursue this further, Anomen, there is nothing of it left.'

Imoen watched the pair before her with a smile, almost feeling a hand about her friend's as the girl slipped in the knife, and Imoen wanted to shout to his back just as Fritha once would have. To shout '_There, take that, false one!' _orsome other such line from a long forgotten play or poem, that would have made all those Candlekeep sages nod wisely and Beth beam, and Imoen laugh even though she had no clue from where it had been plucked.

She shook herself, wondering where such spite came from even as she revelled in it. Glad as she was to be finally free of Irenicus and that wretched asylum, it was hard too, finding her place that group of strangers. Even her closest friend was distant and older than she remembered her being, the way Fritha could be smiling one moment and coolly dismissing her the next, and Imoen was unable to tell whether this change was due to what Irenicus had done to them both, or just those last four months apart letting them grow into different people. A hand drifted absently up to her chest, the ache within faded after so long, to something just on the edge of her senses, a hollow worry she could not quite place.

Ahead of her, Fritha walking alone once more as Anomen slowed his pace, his head bowed, and the girl felt a surge of delight swell to fill the hole. Imoen remembered well enough Niklos's betrayal back in the Gate; the sting of knowing one cared for, could not have cared less, and it pleased her to know the knight was getting back some of that hurt.

But Imoen's enjoyment had not gone unobserved, it seemed, the man at her side watching her smile, though he moved his gaze back to their path as she looked up to him. Valygar was handsome enough that she had even noticed it back in Spellhold, and clearly stern enough to provide her with some entertainment. Imoen grinned.

'So, you don't talk much, do you?'

The man looked surprised by her question, though he answered evenly, 'I speak when there is something to be said.'

Imoen laughed. 'There is _always_ something to be said.'

'Yes,' he answered slowly, as though he could well believe such of her. Another long silence between them, Imoen forced to dredge up some small talk.

'So, how did you meet Fritha then?'

'She and the others were sent to kill me –they changed their minds.'

'Ah, well, good for us they did,' continued Imoen, cheerfully seizing on this, 'your tracking helped quite a bit in that maze.'

He shrugged away the compliment; neither pleased nor embarrassed by her praise.

'Aerie's map made it easier -and I seem to recall you finding your way past more than one locked door. That is an interesting skill you have there.'

Imoen shrugged. 'Ah, you know, comes in useful, now and then,' she grinned, adding quickly as she worried she had missed something in his tone, 'Oh, you're not one of those people who are all, _anyone who can pick a lock should have a hand lopped off on principle_, are you?'

Valygar shook his head. 'No, it is not your skills with a lockpick that would give me pause.'

Imoen frowned. 'What then? Not the Bhaalspawn thing -cause you travel with Fritha, so you really shouldn't have issue with _me_. Unless… it's not the _magic_, is it?' she laughed incredulously. But the ranger did not share her amusement.

'Yes, it is,' he confirmed stonily. 'I believe it corrupts both mind and senses.'

'Oh, I shouldn't worry about me then,' laughed Imoen, 'I'm already as corrupt as they come –old Winthrop told me so a thousand times.'

Valygar returned her smile with a cool frown. 'Then since you are aware of this corruption, I can only assume you are in a position to guard against it yourself.'

'Oh, yes,' Imoen nodded blithely, 'though it can't hurt to have more of us watching out for it. You'd best keep an eye on me too -just in case, of course.'

Valygar said nothing, but she was sure she could see a smile trying to twitch the corner of that full, determined mouth. Imoen grinned; the serious ones were _always_ the most fun -to torment or otherwise.

xxx

They reached Brynnlaw by the late afternoon, the sun already low over the harbour and gilding the natural cove in weak yellow light, the wrought-metal sea-gates flashing at its mouth. The Vulgar Monkey was little changed, though rumours of their assault upon Galvena's and perhaps even their battle on the cliffs had reached the town by now. Their group encountered the usual round of inquiring looks as fresh faces entered the tavern, only for the room to immediately dip their heads once more, the other patrons all hunching over their drinks, unwilling to catch their eyes. Even the usually talkative innkeep seemed unwilling to dawdle, the man all efficiency as he served them their drinks with a polite nod and quickly left them to it.

Saemon and Valygar were immediately dispatched to the docks to inform Saemon's crew of their departure, but it was not a quarter hour later when the ranger dragged him back, Saemon quickly trying to regain his feet and his last few shreds of dignity as Valygar shoved him roughly towards their table.

'What is going on?' demanded Jaheira. Valygar sent an angry glare to the back of the captain's head.

'Tell them! Tell them what the guard told you.'

'I, well,' Saemon faltered, nervously straightening out his jacket, 'the passage I promised you… it might be a touch delayed.'

Fritha shifted cold eyes to his face. 'Oh, yes? Explain.'

Saemon swallowed and gave his jacket one last tug, readying himself for the performance of his life.

'Well, friends, in an act of purest malice, my ship has been impounded. Such villainy I am subjected to -it seems the Pirate Lord has taken some unfounded dislike to me, has impounded my ship and decreed the gates are not to be opened for it.'

'And what did you do to deserve that, I wonder,' said Jaheira coolly.

Fritha sighed, a hand already drawing her sword as she rose. 'Oh, dear… Well, you understand what happens now, Saemon -nothing personal.'

'Now, just hold there, m'lady!' he countered hastily, 'I can still get you off the island! All we need is Desharik's horn. It is the signal for the gates. If you can get it, we can blow it ourselves, the sea-gates will be opened and we will be away before any realises it. Surely, it would be quicker than finding another to give you passage.'

Fritha was frowning, her blade paused, half-drawn from the scabbard. 'And where is this horn kept?'

'Desharik leaves it with his lady, Cayia. Were circumstances different, I might have tried to woo her for it, for she is suspect of virtue-'

'Says you!' cried Aerie.

'-But I fear I recently lost favour with her.'

'That you ever had it!' snorted Imoen, 'Gods, what happened, did she lose a bet?'

Saemon pressed his lips together against a retort, continuing to the rest of the table, 'Cayia holds a small house of her own on the north-eastern side of the harbour on the third tier –I believe she keeps the horn in her bedroom. If you get it tonight, we can sail just before the dawn.'

Jaheira sighed; was nothing simple?

'Right, the dusk closes in now; we should likely wait until-'

'Fritha?' cried Imoen, her friend already marching for the door.

'I'm off to fetch this horn. Back later.'

'Well, hang-' The slam of the door cut her off.

'She is getting worse,' said Valygar evenly. Aerie looked worried.

'Should we send someone after her?'

Jaheira shrugged. 'To what end?'

'Well, what are we going to do now?' pressed the elf.

'We will continue with this plan. Saemon?'

'Well, I shall have to get aboard my ship to inform the crew and ready our departure.'

'Fine. Valygar and Minsc, go with him.'

'Now, lady, it will require stealth to board the guarded ship-'

'Or a distraction,' offered Imoen dully, the girl taking her cloak from the back of her chair as she rose. 'Come on, let's see how they like guard duty when half the docks are on fire.'

'Now, Imoen, I'm not sure…' cautioned Aerie, making to follow her.

'Perhaps this sparrow should attend as well.'

And one after another, they left the table. Jaheira gazed across to the only man still left, Anomen silent for this entire exchange, just staring into his ale cup as though he had not even the energy to lift his head.

'She will be all right, Anomen.'

The knight snorted humourlessly, raising bitter eyes to gaze back at her. 'She is already injured beyond either of our skill could tend.' He shook his head, utterly broken. 'She hates me.'

'I do not think-' Jaheira countered hastily, only to stop at his unyielding look. The druid sighed, defeated. 'She is not herself, at the moment. She will come around in time, Anomen.'

The man said nothing, just went back to his ale in silence, and more even than when she had discovered Khalid, dead and defiled upon that table, Jaheira _hated_ Irenicus.

xxx

Fritha rose herself slightly on her hands and shifted her legs into a new position, the girl unable to sit still on that cold narrow bar for long before it became uncomfortable. Cayia's home was a narrow three-storied house that looked little different from the rest of the dwellings on the street, though the guard stood at the front door gave her away. There was obviously some problem with subsidence in the area and Cayia's home had not escaped it, hers and the house on the other side of the narrow alley than ran between them leaning into each other like drunken friends and thick iron beams had been placed at intervals between them to brace the slumping walls. And it was on the highest of these, Fritha had found her perch.

In truth, Fritha was rather surprised she had managed to make her way up there, but the climb had seemed simpler than she would have usually found it, merely shinning up the drainpipe to the third floor to push off, a breath-stealing moment just falling through the air before she caught the beam and pulled herself up, the girl taking her seat just above the woman's bedroom, the window beneath her open with shutters drawn.

And there Fritha had sat for the last six hours, unseen as men walked and drunks staggered down the alley underneath, the later hours finding sailors ducking in to urinate, while one unfortunate sod spent a good quarter hour heaving up his guts before he shambled on. Every now and then, a slight breeze would rush up from the harbour, bringing with it the scent of brine and, strangely enough, woodsmoke. But the sky was cloudy and it was not cold, even as the night fell, though a part of her wondered whether she would even feel it, if it were.

Even for the long hours sat up there, it had made for an interesting enough evening. That Cayia was reputed to be a lady of loose morals seemed accurate enough. Her lover had already been at the house when Fritha had arrived, the pair of them taking a meal together in her room and playing a few games of chess as they chatted about his last voyage and what she had been doing in his absence, each carefully steering about the subject that she was another man's wife.

They had finally retired to bed not long ago, and were coupling at the moment -and bloody noisy it was too, Fritha turning her back to the house and resisting the urge to put her fingers in her ears as they panted and groaned like rutting beasts. The sound of it sickened rather than embarrassed her though, the nausea she had been fighting since Spellhold churning in her stomach to the point where she felt she would fall from her perch. But, though it felt like an age, it did not last long in reality and silence soon returned to her world.

Fritha sighed, letting her eyes drift up to the dark grey clouds that hung above her, the brighter of the stars just peeking though, like diamonds behind a veil.

'Did you hear them this evening? They are both miserable, this meeting more of an escape from their troubles than any true joy –gods, this world is a wretched place.'

_I will not deny it, but this woman hardly helps herself. She made her bed –she took up with the Pirate Lord and now she risks her life making a cuckold of him; we are no longer here to protect the weak willed from their own follies._

'No, just ourselves.'

_And that is all we need -you've never had anyone else to rely upon._

Fritha frowned, shifting absently on her cold metal perch; that wasn't strictly true. 'I had Anomen.'

_Aye, and how well did that work out?_

'I'm not defending him. I'm just saying, we were together for a time.'

_And was it pleasing? Did it make it all somehow easier?_

Fritha shook her head, trying to summon the feeling, but it refused to come.

'I… I don't remember.'

_Listen_.

The low growl of snoring was rumbling from behind the shutters.

_Well, off you go, then._

Fritha edged forward, dropping from the bar onto the wide window ledge and using the tip of her dagger to slip between the two shutters and lift the catch within. They swung open with barely a creak, finally revealing the chamber that had existed only in her mind before then, a large bed set against the back wall. It was almost too simple, the ornate metal horn just hung carelessly about one of the thick wooden posts of the headboard, the two occupants making it all the easier for her, curled together on the other side as they were, his arms about the woman… just as Anomen had lain with her…

Fritha froze, transfixed there where she stood, a hand stretched out and halfway to the horn.

_Fritha…_

_Fritha!_

The man snorted, mumbling something in his sleep as he rolled on to his back, and the spell was broken. A sweep of her hand, and the horn was hers.

**…**

Fritha padded up the narrow staircase, the warped steps creaking underfoot. The tavern had been empty save for the innkeep by the time she had arrived back. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to be sharing with one of the others, but the hour was late and she had ordered her own room anyway, taking the key and a large bottle of wine up to the second floor.

It was a small room, cramped even with only the table and bed it contained, everything faded and dirtied to the same shade of washed-out grey, the air stale and slightly damp without a fireplace. She lit the only lamp, the single yellow flame bathing the battered table in light and deepening the darkness about her. Fritha stood on the edge of the circle, the wine and cup set before her as she prepared to wait for the dawn.

A knock at the door. Fritha sighed, drawing a long mouthful of wine before answering it.

'Come in.'

It was Imoen, the girl entering at her invitation and shutting the door behind her, though she made no further step into the room, her eyes as dark as the shadows she lingered in as she confirmed coolly, 'You're back then.'

'Aye, looks like. Wine?'

Imoen said nothing and Fritha set the bottle back down again, lifting her cup for another sour mouthful. At the door, Imoen shifted restlessly –she never could stand a silence.

'Fritha, why'd you just leave like that today?'

Fritha shrugged. 'Because the discussion would have decided pretty much what I did in the end anyway, and I could not see the point in it. We've little enough time left without wasting any on pointless chatter.'

'Don't talk like that.'

'Like what?'

'Like we're already dead!' shouted Imoen.

Fritha sighed; it was easy to forget that Imoen had not had those four months of pointless struggles to bring her to the knowledge that life was, on the whole, a miserable disappointment. She glanced to the girl, Imoen looking small and wretched as she watched her from the shadows, and Fritha decided, there and then, that whatever happened, she would see her friend safe. She tightened the hand about her cup and gravely held her gaze.

'Imoen, I will do all within my power to return to you your soul.'

Imoen did not miss her wording. 'And what of _you?_'

Fritha just shrugged and took another long draft of wine; it seemed obvious to her. Bohdi was one thing; her brother, however, was quite another. Imoen's desperation flared to anger.

'Fritha, talk to me! We're in this together! We're the same!'

'The same?' Fritha repeated with a sceptical smile, 'Ooo, I don't think that's quite true.'

Imoen's face fell. 'Fritha! Why are you doing this?'

'Doing what?'

'Hurting us all, pushing us all away… Are you trying to protect us?'

Fritha could hardly believe it, an unexpected laugh of disbelief bubbling up to fill the silence between them.

'_Protect_ _you?_ Good _gods!_ I've lost my soul and I'm turning into the avatar of Murder and it's _still_ all about you lot! Poor dears, I understand you must find this whole thing very traumatising.' She sighed again, quite tired of this discussion that would lead them nowhere. 'Just leave, please, Imoen.'

Imoen shifted her weight, moving hands to her hips in a last stand of defiance. The cup left Fritha's hand before she had realised it, her scream shrieking over the shatter of ceramics.

'I said get _OUT!_'

Imoen whipped through the door and slammed it quickly behind her, her breathing suddenly ragged. She took a shuddering step forward, before giving up to lean back against the wood once more, shaking, the emotions finally catching up with her as she broke down in to desperate sobs.

On the other side of the door, Fritha did the same.

xxx

The dawn came reluctantly, Jaheira watching from the small window of the room she'd shared with Imoen, the girl muttering and crying out in her sleep as the mists that shrouded the island merely grew lighter, and Jaheira doubted the sun had even crested the eastern horizon when what was left of their group trouped downstairs. Fritha was already at a table in the empty tavern, eating a breakfast of bread and smoked fish, the girl sinking cup after cup of tea –the night's wine had clearly left her thirsty. They left the inn soon after, Saemon's ship the last one moored at southern end of the quays. The two guards were both tired and bored after a night stood in the cold, and it was not difficult to dispatch them. A spell from Aerie and the two of them were left unharmed and unconscious behind a convenient stack of crates, their company rejoining Valygar and Minsc for a thankful reunion, the ties between their small group seemingly all the tighter for their recent misfortune.

Well, for most of them anyway, the druid considered, Fritha a few steps from the rest of them, stood at the ship's rail and staring blankly down into the murky water of the harbour. The girl was dealing with a lot, and some would have said quite badly, too, but Jaheira knew how she had strove, especially towards the end, to raise the coin and enact this rescue, and she could understand the disappointment of such a blow. Sometimes she even found herself wondering which had upset the girl more: being sentence to death as she slowly lost herself to the darkness within, or just the idea they would return to Athkatla to face yet more struggles. But the pain of this discovery was still fresh and bitter with it, and Jaheira held hopes that the voyage back to the city would give the girl the time she needed to come to terms with her burden –and perhaps make peace with others who were bearing its weight, Anomen looking drawn and miserable in the weak sunlight.

From the aft deck, the clear bellow of a horn over the crying gulls, a few moments wait before another replied from across the harbour, Saemon giving a triumphant laugh as he bounded down the steps.

'That is the signal; they're opening the gates –we've done it! Men, get on those sails. Juvante, call us up a wind-

'Hold fast, dogs!'

All heads whipped to the shout, the crew falling back with worried grunts as the Pirate Lord himself strode up the gangplank looking furious, the six guards who had accompanied him fanning out at his back.

'Saemon Havarian,' Desharik sneered, 'you are not about to add theft to your list of transgressions, I hope?'

Saemon tried to look injured. He just looked guilty, the horn hurriedly thrust behind his back. 'Why, what theft is this you speak of, my lord? This is my own ship-'

'The ship is mine, Havarian, seized to cover your debts to me –did you think you could escape your tithes indefinitely?'

'But how could I even leave, my lord, the gates-'

'Are being opened as we speak. Signalled by the horn you stole.'

'_Stole?_' the captain gasped, as though he could not even conceive of so terrible a crime.

'Do not bother, Saemon,' came a cold voice Fritha recognised, Cayia stepping from behind her husband, bold and proud as she accused her former lover. 'I told him. I awoke early to find the horn missing and I sent a messenger straight away. My husband quickly realised who the culprit was.'

'Indeed, you did, Cayia…' Desharik chuckled, eyes dark beneath his frown, 'Yet how could he have acquired it so easily? You took him to your bed again, did you not? Tell me, did you plan to betray him from the very start or did he cause you some affront last night –call out another's name or perhaps he quit your company as soon as had taken the horn –and his pleasure.'

Cayia looked horrified, the woman recoiling from him. 'No, that- that is not true! I was alone. Tell him, Saemon!'

The captain faltered, clearly wondering how he could make the situation serve him, but the Pirate Lord had no ear of their excuses.

'Do not lie to me, slattern!' Desharik roared, 'A man was seen entering your house in the afternoon. Do you think I do not know how you cuckolded me? Did you think to make me a laughing stock of this entire isle _forever?_'

'But, but I wasn't- I didn't-'

'She was not with him, Desharik,' came a voice, quiet and firm, Fritha stepping forward to present herself to the pair, 'Cayia did not give Saemon the horn… _I _took it; I broke into her room last night and stole it.'

'You?' the man cried, 'Then let her death be on _your_ conscience.'

A flash of steel and the woman was slumped upon the deck, a bloody hand clutched to her stomach wound. Fritha's scream split the air.

'_NO!_'

She leapt at him, Desharik caught off-guard by the ferocity of her attack, though, fortunately for him, his retinue were not. A guard stepped forward and sharp came their gasps as Fritha swept up her blade to slash across thigh and back over face with a ruthless grace to leave him bleeding on the deck. Fritha was already pressing her fight to the Pirate Lord, seemingly unconcerned by his surrounding guard, and there was a rush to join the fight before she was completely overwhelmed, the crew about them hurrying to launch the ship before reinforcements could arrive.

Fritha ducked the swing, shifting her weight with an agility she never before could have managed to stab up under Desharik's guard, her blood screaming for the kill. The pirate was not so easily caught though, punching out with his free hand and Fritha swiftly changed her mind, springing to one side, sword brought up as she straightened and slice along the inside of this thigh. He swore, and Fritha spared a moment to sate her lust, dancing back a step to stab the undefended flank of the guard fighting Minsc, her eyes snapping instantly back to the battle before her.

Desharik was limping back, spitting curses under his breath, perhaps now realising what he had brought upon himself. In battle there was no room for regret though, his foot catching on the body behind him, the briefest glance to his wife's corpse seeming to bolster him, eyes narrowed as he raised his sword for one final push. Fritha's blood had lulled to a contented purr; it knew what came next. Desharik set his frame forward, ready to rush at her and Fritha barrelled into him before his charge could gain momentum. They collided with his sword still useless above her, Desharik smashing the pommel down into her shoulder in his panic, the girl screaming in pain and victory both as she thrust her sword up through his rib cage, ploughing him into the ship's rail, her body pinning him there as she withdrew her blade to stab him again and once more and, at last, he fell limp.

Around her the deck was clearing, the last of the guards dispatched by Anomen, while the crew were already heaving the bodies over the side where they landed with a splash to float face down in the filthy harbour.

Fritha turned back to the body slumped against the rail before her, the girl staring in to his lifeless face, still unshaven, the scent of his mouth sour from the morning. An hour ago he had been asleep –now he would never wake.

'Fritha?'

She turned. Valygar was standing behind her, looking grave.

'We should put him overboard with the others.'

She nodded, turning her back as she heard the splash.

xxx

The twilight was drawing in, the breeze turning colder, though it had yet to drive any of them below, their group –with the exception of Fritha and Haer'Dalis- all gathered on the aft deck, Saemon behind them and seemingly glad to be back at the helm as he steered them on a steady course to Athkatla.

It had been a long day of heavy silences. Fritha had been alone since the fight with Desharik, the girl stood on the deck not far from where he and his lady had both fallen, just staring out to sea. She would not talk to anyone, nor would she eat anything and there were worries she had suffered a complete breakdown, when one of the sailors had noticed the lute case at her feet and asked her for a tune. The change in the girl had been dramatic, though perhaps not entirely welcome, Fritha obliging the man with a song about a girl who ran away with her pirate lover, the lyrics peppered with sailing terms which seemingly held some dual meaning, and had the assembled crew bellowing with coarse laughter.

Anomen let his gaze drift back to where she was now gathered with Haer'Dalis and what had to be a good half of the crew, the tiefling's lyre joined by another harp, drum and flute as a sprightly melody of Calimshite origin floated over the cool air. Fritha had joined them earlier, though her lute was now resting silent in its case, the men seated and standing in a ring about her as she danced with the Turmian youth, Juvante.

One of the men had produced a sari of indigo and gold from the loot in the hold, and she was dressed in it now, the girl taking off her boots to wear it over her trousers and her rolled up tunic, the fine gauzy silk fluttering out behind her as she moved, flickering gold now and then as the hems caught in the lamplight. Anomen had never seen her dance before, not like this, in a dance that was clearly meant to be watched rather than joined, and it struck him how much older she looked, her body moving fluidly through the steps, as though she had more joints that the rest of them, the youth behind her just as lithe, his mouth but inches from her neck as they danced together.

It would have been better, Anomen considered, somehow more bearable, if she had turned to give him some look or spiteful little smirk -some hint that it was all for his benefit. But she just kept her eyes closed, and lost herself in the movement.

The knight dipped his head, feeling his misery swell to the point where it felt it would overwhelm him. He had had it all; her affection and even the possibility of something even deeper, and now she would not even look at him. He had prayed earlier, knelt in his cabin for over an hour, asking Helm to help him see through the next few tenday, whatever they brought. To keep him resolute and strong in his duty to the girl, whatever conflict passed between them. But Anomen had been too ashamed to ask for help to endure the pain of it all- because a part of him believed he deserved everything he felt and more. The others about him were watching the spectacle as he had been, though they had more to say on the matter, it seemed, Minsc shaking his great bald head as he turned back to the group.

'Young Fritha is acting very strangely.'

Jaheira shrugged wearily. 'She is just unhappy, Minsc –she needs to deal with it in her own way.'

'She isn't dealing with it,' said Aerie firmly, 'she's just hiding from it! We should go over there and put a stop to this before it gets out of hand.'

Imoen sighed; she sounded bored. 'Oh, give over Aerie, she's got Haer'Dalis looking out for her.'

'Yes she _has_,' the elf agreed tartly, clearly displeased by the way he was just as avid a spectator as any of the sailors. 'By Baervar, is that _rum?_'

'Gods!' Imoen burst out suddenly, hauling herself to her feet, 'I can see why Fritha can't stand you. Bugger you lot, I'm with her.'

'Imoen-'cried Jaheira, but the girl was already gone. '_By Silvanus!_'

Imoen clattered down the wide-stepped ladder on to the main deck, clapping her applause with the others as the song finally ended, Fritha back with the men and taking a swig of whatever was in the bottle Juvante had just passed to her, the man's hand lingering on the bared small of her back as she turned to greet her friend.

'Imoen, you've come to see us –you don't bring some message of admonishment, do you?' she added with a frown.

Imoen laughed, shaking her head. 'Nope, I just thought it looked like more fun over on this side of the deck.'

'Ooo, I don't know,' said Fritha, peering round her to where the others were still sat under the cloud of their own disapproval, 'it looks like you've been having a wild old time of it over there, too.'

The pair of them laughed, Haer'Dalis closing to them.

'Ah, has the robin come to join our song?'

'Nah, sorry, Haer'Dalis, but it's well known fact that I couldn't carry a tune in a bucket.'

'Perhaps a dance then?' offered one of the younger men with a grin. Imoen gave the youth an openly appraising look.

'Maybe later -you'll have to save me one.'

Laughter all round, the sailors more than appreciative of young women with wit as bawdy as their own. Fritha was already kneeling beside Finnis as the group settled again, Juvante on her other side, the girl leaning forward with a smile as she gently patted his face.

'I love love love _love _being drunk! Come sit with us, Imoen,' she continued, idling shooing at the boy to make more room as Imoen sat next to her.

'So how did ye find Brynnlaw?' asked Finnis. Fritha sighed.

'Well, as you can see, we got Imoen back, _but_ we lost our souls in the process.'

'Yeah, and before you ask, that isn't a euphemism for something else,' added Imoen.

More raucous laughter, though Finnis looked worried.

'Fritha,' he breathed, bloodshot old eyes wide with concern, 'are ye all right with it?'

The girl shrugged nonchalantly. 'Soulless. Could be worse; Anomen's lived _years_ without a personality.'

The men about them chuckled, Finch warning jokingly, 'Ooo, she's a sharp one –I'd watch yourself there, young Juvante.'

The young Turmian rose his chin to the challenge, the man opposite giving a great bark of laughter, eyes gleaming of over his tangled black beard.

'Ha! If he cannot manage you, just step my way, flower –the Northlanders know how to handle _fiery_ women.'

Weathered old Baden snorted. 'That they might, but you'd know nothing of it, Daegul -you're from Cormyr!'

'Aye, so mind if he offers to show ye his _purple dragon_.'

The girls were cackling wildly, Imoen wearing a wicked smirk as she continued, 'Ah, you sound just like our Haer'Dalis. He tells everyone he's from Sigil, but we all know he just dyes his hair that colour to impress the girls –he's probably from, I dunno, some farm just west of Beregost.'

'Really, my robin, how am I to defend myself against such slurs?'

'The lass'll need proof!' announced Finch firmly, Daegul stroking his beard.

'And how are we to give it?'

'Well, I can think of one way…' offered Imoen with a lecherous grin.

'Imoen, you're awful!' laughed Fritha, Haer'Dalis looking like he was trying to fight a smile of his own as he protested this wanton turn in the discourse.

'Now, really, this tone may be suitable for the women of Brynnlaw, but I do not think these young ladies-'

'Aww, are they making you blush, Haer'Dalis?' teased Fritha, Finnis grinning as he added, 'Mayhaps the ladies of Sigil are a mite more proper than these fine lasses.'

Haer'Dalis raised a cool eyebrow. 'The ladies of Sigil cater to all tastes and _species_.'

'Yeah, but they charge extra if you've more than one kno-'

'_Imoen!_'

Across the deck, a high, and decidedly _cold_, voice cut their laughter dead. 'Haer'Dalis, may I speak with you please?'

The tiefling's smile faded on his face, though he looked resolved as he stood to make his way over to a _very_ displeased looking Aerie. Imoen watch them with a gleeful smile.

'_Uh-oh_, looks like someone's in for it now.'

'By, she's a shrill one,' chuckled Baden, Daegul adding with a laugh, 'Ah, she ent no shriller than your wife.'

'At least I 'ave a wife, Daegul; the only women who look at ye have gold in their eyes.'

'Aye, and lots of it,' laughed Finch, 'D'you remember that Waterhavian whore who charged him double the rest of us?'

'She did not!'

Fritha snorted, leaving the men to their squabble as she rose, nodding for Imoen to follow as they moved across the deck, Fritha unwinding the sari from her as she went. They reached the ship's rail before she halted, turning back to watch the others. Haer'Dalis and Aerie were nowhere to be seen, the pair likely gone below to argue in peace. The others were still on the aft deck where they had been most of the day, Jaheira, Minsc and Anomen sat on the far side, while Valygar was on his feet, checking his bow just for something to do. Imoen was rapt. Fritha rolled her eyes; it clearly took more than the removal of her soul to curb her friend's interest in _boys_.

'You like him, don't you?'

The girl whipped back to her. 'What? _Hardly…_ How can you tell?'

Fritha snorted. 'Imoen, you're about as subtle as a warhammer.'

'Oh, shut up!' the girl laughed, adding quickly, 'Do you think he's noticed?'

'No, and I think it would probably _take_ some sort of hammer to make an impression on _him_.'

'Well, good,' Imoen concluded firmly. 'Besides, I don't _like _like him, I just think he's handsome. You know, all tall and dark and-

'Mopey,' cut in Fritha.

'No!'Imoen cried, before conceding, 'Well, _yeah_, but -Ooo, look at his arms.'

Fritha pulled a face, Imoen gazing up to where the man in question was still checking his bow, the lamplight bringing out the definition on his forearms as he drew back the string.

'_Ahhhh_,' Fritha cried, as something suddenly dawned on her –her friend's compliments to Anomen and the way she was ogling Valygar now. 'You like muscley men, don't you? Ah, I'm right, aren't I?' she squealed, Imoen bright pink and trying to hush her laughter as she cried, 'No- No, I don't! You're the one who was with _Anomen__!_ Oh, sorry,' she murmured, at Fritha's suddenly stony expression.

'Yes, as am I.'

Imoen shook her head, her gaze to the aft deck suddenly a frown as she let it shift to the knight. 'How did you end up with _him?_'

Fritha sighed, leaning back against the ship's rail, enjoying the feel of the breeze in her hair.

'I told you: life was bad and he made it easier.'

'And now?'

Fritha snorted. 'Life is worse and I've realised the only heart anyone can rely on is their own.'

Imoen sent her a soft look. 'You can rely on mine.'

Fritha said nothing, just dropped her attention to the curls hanging lose about her face, stirring fitfully in the wind, her fingers playing with the one that hung a good few inches shorter than the rest.

'So, what happened there then?' asked Imoen, taking the hint and moving on, 'You miss with your sword?'

'No… Do you remember the boy I met back in Candlekeep, Eriyn? Well, it was him. He's a sailor now. I met him a couple of times back in Athkatla and he took a lock of hair to remember me by at our last meeting. Gods, he probably has one in every shade hair comes in… and a few it doesn't!' Fritha added with a laugh, giving Imoen's rose pink bob an affectionate flick.

'Do you really think that?'

'Oh, I don't know,' she sighed, staring out at the sea, 'seems more likely than him sitting alone on some starlit deck right now, looking out over the ocean, his fingers playing with a lock of hair he stole from the girl he can't seem to forget.' Fritha snorted her contempt. 'What nonsense.'

Imoen let a laugh break the silence that followed. 'Gods, Anomen _and_ Eriyn; you _have_ been busy.'

Fritha smiled. 'You don't know the half of it.'

Imoen snorted, the girl goggling at her like the Avatar of Bhaal was the least of the changes she had seen in her lately. 'Sune's eyes, there were _more? _What happened to the girl who went scarlet when a boy so much as looked at her? Go on then, who else?'

Fritha laughed, amused by her disbelief. 'Well, there was Haer'Dalis for a start –well, nearly.'

'Really? What happened?'

'Aerie. She liked him too and I really wasn't keen enough to fight over him.'

'Ha! Perhaps it'd have been better if you had!' Imoen exclaimed bluntly, 'He certainly wouldn't have been shying from you now! You should have heard him when you first changed, going on about how _dark _and_ mysterious_ you are –he'd have been all over you like a rash.'

Fritha shrugged; she had a vague feeling she always realised that it might be so, and perhaps that was why it had never worked out with him in the first instance. She smiled wryly. 'A rash? How romantic. I can see why I wouldn't want to have missed out on that.'

'Here, ye lasses,' came the shout from the other side of the deck, Finnis beckoning to them, his flute in hand. Fritha smiled

'Looks like our evening is just beginning.'

But Imoen looked suddenly reluctant, the girl gently tugging her sleeve as she pressed, 'Ah, Fritha, let's stay here a bit longer; we haven't had a proper chance to talk yet and it's been ages.'

Fritha pulled her arm away. She had come all that way to rescue her and now she was dying; what was there to talk about?

'I don't feel like it just now,' she rebuffed, already moving past the girl, 'I'm going back to that lot. Go sit with the others, if you don't want to come.'

And Imoen looked saddened even as she trotted resignedly after her. 'No, I'll come.'

xxx

Anomen tried a stretch, his back and legs stiff with cold as he sat upon that dark deck. The large lanterns that hung from the masts threw out circles of warm yellow light that did little more than keep the shadows at bay, an impenetrable darkness hanging just beyond the rail of the ship, the sky above cloudy, with not even a hint of stars or moon to break the illusions that their boat was the only thing in that cold black void. His own companions and most of the crew had already retired, though Finnis and a few of the other pirates were still gathered under the main mast playing cards as they took their watch, while Fritha…

He let his gaze shift to where the girl was sat in the bows, wrapped in her cloak and curled in the large coil of rope that held the fore anchor. She had told him there was nothing left; she had told him to stay away. But he just could not bring himself to leave her, not when she was so vulnerable, an evening of rum and laughter leaving her as drunk as Anomen had ever seen her.

He rubbed impatiently at his tired eyes. The hour was late now -even Fritha might be able to see reason, though he did not feel too hopeful as he rose stiffly and walked over to her.

She was laid on her side, an almost empty bottle of spirits cradled in her arm as she sang hoarsely to herself.

'…_with eyes as blue as ocean depths, into my heart he slyly crept…'_

'Fritha?'

She shifted on to her back, smiling slightly as she recognised him, her voice clearing as the volume increased.

'_And when he left me, gods, I wept, that man I can't forget.'_

'Fritha, don't you think you should go below?'

She shook her head, struggling to sit upright and uncorking the bottle for a quick nip of spirits. 'No, if I did, I would have gone, wouldn't I? Besides, Imoen is asleep in my cabin and I want to _SING!_ _Sweet Sune, bring him back to me, if only for a day. And I will bow on bended knee and pray my life away.'_

Anomen sighed tiredly, slumping to sit next to her. 'Fritha…'

'You don't like that song much?' she confirmed with a smile that told him she knew full well he did not. 'I can sing one of a man with brown eyes, if you prefer. Full of that first bloom of love; so warm and innocent. No?'

He scowled at her. Something he had once so earnestly asked her for, now just used to mock him. But Fritha, by contrast, was grinning, clearly enjoying the reaction she was getting, when a sudden light seemed to spark behind her eyes and in a tune both bright and merry-

'_I knew a man, a sour chap, who lived only to blame me, _

_And many nights I laid awake, just wishing I was free._

_But then my sweet salvation came from an unlike place,_

_It's seems his passion died for meeeee… when I tried to eat his face, his face,_

_I tried to eat his face.'_

The last line was practically lost to laughter, Fritha letting it fade in a sigh and moving to take another drink. With a speed that surprised them both, he snatched the bottle from her.

'Anomen!'

One sweep of his arm and he hurled it overboard before she could snatch it back, his anger boiling inside him. She watched him, dark eyes intent upon his face and, for a moment, he thought she would slap him. Part of him would have welcomed it too, any sign of emotion from her outside of this cold scorn. But, at last, she just shrugged, sitting back and returning her gaze to the sea, still humming under her breath.

'What are you singing now?' he questioned quietly, just asking for the sake of talking to her.

'Hmm? Oh, the song of the man with brown eyes… I never really get away from him. I mean there was Eriyn, and I suppose you as well, if we were to count such things…'

She snorted; a clear indication that she _wasn't._ Anomen watched her in silence, wondering where the truth ended and the lies began. He knew from spending enough evenings with his father what she was trying to do. To rile him, draw out his temper for her own amusement, but she had tricks Lord Cor had never known existed. Fritha was smiling gently now, eyes watching something he could not see.

'But you know how it is the first time, all butterflies and belladonna. I told everyone I knew I didn't love him…' she paused, her face taking on an empty look, 'Even managed to convinced myself for a spell…'

'And I suppose he betrayed you_ too_, did he?' Anomen spat, unable to keep the snarl from his voice, her words of this other man, however unlikely, still filling him with a fierce jealousy. 'Another one to leave you with a broken heart?'

'Betrayed me _too_? _Another _broken heart?' She began to laugh gently to herself, shaking her head, 'Such arrogance, Anomen! Do you really think I would let _you _anywhere near my heart?'

Anomen frowned, turning his attention back to the sea, her words containing an unexpected sting. 'You can be very cruel, my lady.'

'I am a child of Murder!' she snapped, 'A few catty remarks should be the _least_ of your worries!'

The silence descended between them again and he wondered if he should just leave it at that and let her be, but…

'You told Aerie you had never been in love.'

Fritha glanced to him with a slight frown, as though trying to decided whether or not to be offended that he had caught her in a lie somewhere.

'And what was I to tell her? The truth? I don't want her blue-eyed pity. _Oh Fritha, how awful!_'' She turned back to the dark ocean, the girl suddenly dropping her head into her hands with a groan. 'Gods, Anomen, why did you have to throw it overboard? I'd just enough left to see me sweetly into the morrow.'

Laughter behind them caught her attention before he could make a reply though, Fritha glancing back to the group by the mast, her friend Finnis among them. And suddenly she was up and walking over, the rolling of the ship seeming to aid rather than detract from her drunken gait. The old sailor glanced up at her arrival.

'Eee, Fritha, have ye come to join us?'

Anomen couldn't hear her reply, but the gathering at her feet laughed, so he suspected she was playing the fool again. He shook his head and, against all better judgement, moved to join her.

'…but Anomen just lobbed it overboard in a fit of pique, so I'm a little shy. Any chance I can have some of yours? I've coin for it.'

'Ye threw it over the side, eh?' Finnis confirmed, throwing a frown to him as Anomen drew up beside her, 'Well, girl, ye can have what ye wants from me. Come on, me pack is over here.'

They followed as he led them over the upturned jolly-boat that had been lashed to the deck, his pack nestled underneath, the old man pulling it out to rummage for a moment before straightening again, a large clear-glass bottle in hand.

'There- keep your gold, pet,' he forestalled as she instantly went for her purse, 'Tis a sad day when a sailor can't shout a friend some rum, aye?'

'Thank you, Finnis, I am much obliged to you.'

'Think nothing of it, my pet. Ye had better look after her, _knight_,' he added gruffly as he turned to Anomen. 'She was in yer care when this happened to her, so ye had best mind yer _duty_ and serve her till she gets that soul of hers back.'

Fritha laughed merrily –her good mood directly related to her supply of rum, it seemed.

'Ooo, don't try admonishing on him, Finnis; he owes me nothing. As soon as we dock in Athkatla, he'll be skipping back to his Order.'

Anomen stared down at her, no less than appalled; had he fallen so far in her estimation? 'You truly think I intend so, Fritha?'

'Of course, why not?' the girl shrugged, 'I will have allies enough in the wizards and thieves we recruit. You will not be the only one; I expect Aerie and Haer'Dalis will jump a portal to Sigil as soon as we land.'

But Anomen just shook his head. 'Fritha, whatever has happened between us, I have sworn to protect you and it is my duty-'

'Duty? _Duty?' _the girl shrieked, 'I don't want your sodding duty! I only ever wanted your- Oh, why did he have to die?' she wailed suddenly to the uncaring blackness above them, just falling to her knees where she stood, 'I miss him _so much!_'

Anomen sighed, fastening two hands under her limp arms and making to haul her up again.

'Come along, Fritha, you need to get to bed.'

'No,' she spat, thrashing futilely, 'leave me be!'

'No! You are too drunk to leave here, now come on!'

One last heave and she was back on her feet, struggling to pull away as she cursed at him in confusion of Rashemi and High Netherese.

'Get your hands-! _Dashnainsvet! Han'svea! Puna de vertis hortant!'_

And it was with some difficulty he dragged her below, throwing open the door to her cabin and practically shoving her inside, Imoen suddenly bolt upright in the darkness.

'Wha-?'

'It is just I, Imoen,' Anomen explained quickly, 'Fritha is…'

He didn't know quite how to finish that sentence, especially since Fritha was no longer cursing his existence in every language she knew, the girl seemingly unwilling to upset her friend, even drunk as she was. Anomen watched as she removed her cloak and coat, Fritha still muttering to herself as she sat on her bed to ease off her boots.

'…_Ashim de fite gham mordat oprus… Mordis oprus._'

He glanced to Imoen, the girl's eyes reflecting silver in the soft light from the hallway behind him.

'She's says she wishes she had just died back at the asylum. She says she wishes she was dead.'


	87. Beyond the sea

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Baldur's Gate', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Beyond the sea**

Imoen awoke with a cry, the screams of the dying still echoing in her ears, every night finding her back inside that glass chamber and surrounded by those faceless men who begged for mercy as their lives were slowly torn from them, one by one. She lay still, her heart rattling as she fought to get her bearings, so used, as she was, to opening her eyes on that featureless grey ceiling, and it took a moment for her to realise she was no longer in her cell, or even that room back at the inn, but on a ship bound for Athkatla. The end of their journey, at least for some, and just the beginning of hers.

She was not alone in her nightmares, it seemed, a glance to Fritha showing the same twisted distress upon her face as her friend slept and Imoen contemplated waking her, though perhaps, considering how she'd arrived to bed the previous evening, it would be better to let her sleep.

The deck was cold and blustery, the first of Hammer dawning grey and overcast just as the last day of Nightal had closed. To think she had spent a whole autumn and half the winter closed inside those walls. Imoen smiled, crossing the almost empty deck to the prow and leaning over the edge until she couldn't feel her face for the cold. In spite of everything, it was good to be outside again, to feel the wind tear at her hair and tear up her eyes as she gazed out across the hazy ocean.

'Young Imoen?'

Imoen whipped around, hands raised instinctively, though she dropped them limply to her sides as she came face to chest with the tall, broad figure of one of her few remaining friends.

'Oh, it's you Minsc -and Boo, too, of course,' she added to the small hamster that was watching her from the safety of the man's belt pouch. 'Morning, you two.'

'Morning, indeed; you are awake early, young Imoen.'

The girl shrugged. 'Couldn't sleep. How about you?'

'Boo said to get up, so I am up.'

'Yes…' Imoen sighed, not really having a reply to that and continuing to the creature in question, 'and how have you been, Boo?'

Minsc's voice was uncharacteristically hushed. 'He has been worried for you, Imoen, just as I was. And we are worried still.'

'Ah, don't fret about me, Minsc,' she dismissed airily, his concern somehow making the ache inside her all the harder to suppress. 'I'm all right; just keep smiling, as Winthrope would say. I was just thinking about how nice it is to be outside again, in the sunlight and the air -I can't wait for the spring; I'm nearly as pasty as Fritha!'

Minsc regarded her levity with an uncertain frown. 'Boo asks what the asylum was like.'

'He saw it, didn't he? What does he think it was _bloody_ like?'

Imoen winced at his hurt expression. What had happened to her?

'It was hard, Minsc… when I first arrived, I was so afraid I didn't dare leave my cell even when we were allowed to –the better patients were allowed to roam free between sunrise and sunset. There were some who were never allowed to leave their rooms, though they were kept on the lower floors. The mages who ran the place -they called themselves coordinators- well, they were all right, for the most part. They were interested in me, because I didn't know much magic, but some tests they did when I first arrived seemed to show there was some great, untapped power in me. They thought I was a latent sorcerer, or maybe dragon-kin.' She snorted humourlessly. 'Course, we all know what I am _now_… The coordinators would have me learn spells, use me in experiments with other patients –it wasn't so bad, I suppose. And I knew it was just till you lot came for me –I never doubted that, even at the end…'

Minsc smiled kindly, nodding for her to continue.

'As for day-to-day stuff…' Imoen frowned; trying to remember how it had been before _he_ had arrived and her world had turned upside down. 'Life was very… ordered. Everyday the same routine: up, dress, eat the same food, at the same times, a few hours spent in tests, the rest just rattling around those corridors bored out of my mind. But I made some friends… A couple of pirates who Desharik had sent there to disappear, though Olarn got sick and died within that first month I was there– the mages hardly cared if you weren't something interesting to study. The other, Memita, got hit by a stray spell in a fight between an inmate and one of the coordinators, and went very odd. She was taken away for tests. I never saw her again. As for the other inmates, well, there was poor Aphril who could see across the planes; she spent most of the time in her cell raving, but she was all right if you got her on a lucid day. And Tiax, this mad gnome who seemed to think he was a god –he was pretty fun, especially to tease. And there was a little girl, Dili who could shape change into anyone after just one glance; I suppose she's dead now. They're all dead: coordinators, inmates, everyone. He killed them all.'

Imoen gazed down a the ocean that swelled and rolled beside them, letting the wind steal her tears and the cold ease the painful lump in her throat. Minsc said nothing, perhaps he had nothing to say, or perhaps he understood her need to continue now she had begun.

'It all happened about a month ago. Wanev, the head of the asylum had gathered our floor in the common room to announce something about, oh, Oghma only knows, I never paid attention to the bloated windbag, when these two coordinators teleport in screaming that he's loose and Irenicus is just there before us all, firing off spells and ranting about how he couldn't be caged. Then… more experiments. The mages who didn't die there became his subjects, more men arriving everyday with Bohdi and those vampires. He never hurt me, you know, never even touched me. But he would show me things…' She trailed off, unwilling to give voice to the flash of images; the blood and sinew, her eyes unable to tear away or even close upon the horrors he had showed her. 'Then- Then, a tenday ago, he just tells me I'm ready -that I'm a Bhaalspawn and he's going to take my divine soul to cure his sister.' Imoen shrugged. 'And he does.'

A large hand landed heavily on her shoulder.

'You are back with us now, young Imoen. That mage will pay and all he stole will be returned.'

Imoen nodded, her forced cheer a shield no longer as she faced the grim reality of her rescue.

'Yeah, but part of me wonders if I haven't already lost. This group… I don't know any of you.'

'You know Minsc and Boo, and good Jaheira! And you know Fritha -she is your sister now, young Imoen,' he reminded, clearly attributing some grave significance to the fact they shared a father. Imoen sighed.

'Yeah, I suppose. But we were always so much more than that. We were friends, you know? It wasn't like being related, we had a choice and we chose each other. At least we _did_,' she added sullenly, their evening with the sailors merely highlighting the distance that still hung between them. 'I'm not sure Fritha would choose me anymore. Before she was my friend, the one I messed about with at the back, while the rest of you got on with the important stuff. Now she's the leader and I- I'm just someone else to be bossed about.'

Minsc shook his head gravely. 'Fritha is our leader, but she is also our friend. She came far and did much to get you back –Boo says she would not want to lose you now.'

Imoen dipped her face, recalling similar words back in the asylum as the man had dragged her away from screaming Anomen stupid, Minsc explaining that Fritha needed a friend, not more conflict in a wise, yet firm manner she would never before have attributed to the Rashemi; perhaps they had all had to grow up in her absence. Imoen raised her head to send him a lopsided grin.

'Unwaveringly hopeful as usual, eh, Minsc? Right, I'm off to see if anyone's in the galley yet; perhaps I can filch some bread before that grumpy bastard of a cook wakes up.' She paused, half-turned to go as she added, 'And don't tell the others what I said, will you, Minsc? About Spellhold, I mean. They can't do anything now, and it would only upset them.'

'We will keep your secret.'

She smiled and nodded, crossing the deck to disappear below. Minsc turned back to the sea, a thumb gently stroking the silken fur of the small hamster still peeking from his belt pouch.

'I agree, Boo; all debts will be paid, in time.'

xxx

At first, there was just pain, and of such an intensity that Fritha would swear later she had managed to starting feeling it before she even came round. She opened her eyes a crack and instantly shut them again as the pain flared white-hot. Her tongue felt swollen and dry, her mouth almost aching with thirst and this alone eventually drove her to moving again. With narrowed eyes, Fritha finally managed to take in her surroundings. She was in the cabin she shared with Imoen, though there was no sign of the lively girl in sight -probably for the best considering the circumstances. Her eyes felt hot and sore, prompting her to shut them again, but this could only be borne for a few minutes before the movement of the ship began to make her feel nauseous.

Fritha couldn't remember much of last night after she left the sailors. Talking to Anomen and then Finnis and then… just a jumble of images that didn't really make much sense. She certainly couldn't recall getting to bed, but here she was, and fully clothed, too, which she took as an _immensely_ good sign, and Fritha concluded Anomen had likely brought her below decks.

A sudden flash behind her eyes; the face before her losing focus as she leaned in and she could feel her own breath reflected back against her face as her lips closed to his. Fritha felt her stomach drop. She _hadn't!_ She _couldn't_ have! It was a trick of the mind brought on by the drink… wasn't it? She just _couldn't_ have kissed Anomen!

But, no, soothed the more rational half of herself, there would be no way, considering how drunk she was, that Anomen would have accepted so much as a peck on the cheek. Was it not then even _more_ embarrassing to have been refused by him? Fritha did a quick evaluation of the thing and mentally shook her head.

No, not even close.

There was a pitcher of water on the chest that was set between their beds and Fritha sat slowly, dipping a shaking hand in to rub the cold liquid up over her face before carefully settling the jug in her lap and raising it to her mouth. Oh, that first mouthful! No wine had ever tasted so sweet and she had to stop herself from gulping back the whole jug, aware that having too much liquid in her stomach would only make her feel worse, the girl pacing herself to drink the rest by small sips.

An hour or so later, Fritha had recovered to a point where movement was not such a problem, the girl staggering from her bed on unsteady legs to change her clothes and finally crawl up on deck. The sky was clear and the wind cold enough to banish the last of the haze that hung about her mind –_unfortunately_; her headache suddenly twice as fierce until she was not sure whether it was that or the biting wind that was bringing the tears to her eyes. Minsc and the women were gathered on the other side of the deck in the shelter of the aft deck, the collective glare fixing upon her as she appeared in the doorway.

_Eh, now don't you worry about them. You don't need their approval anymore._

'Anymore,' she snorted darkly, 'I never had it.'

Her ears rang with a tinkling laugh.

_Ah, you always were a funny one._

Fritha felt herself frown. She was used to hearing the voice; it had changed tones and accents over the years, but it had always been there, just another part of herself that could play the role of comforting friend when none others were to hand. But this voice…

It felt different, though not in anyway she could explain.

'You're not really Bhaal like Aerie thought, are you?'

A contemplative pause.

_You know, petal, I'm not really sure. But I do know for certain that I have your best interests at heart and I want us both to survive. Is there really anything else you need to know?_

'No, I don't suppose there is.'

Fritha glanced over to the others, the group looking no less worried after witnessing this unaccompanied exchange and she fancied she could taste their disapproval. The voice called them something that made Fritha giggle.

'Language, please!'

She left the doorway, moving to take up her usual place at the bows to watch the sea and wait for them to decide who was coming to give her that morning's telling-off, though the first to break her reverie was not one of her companions.

'Good morning there, m'lady; enjoying the sea air?'

And Fritha turned to find Saemon stood behind her, smiling in a way that put her in mind of a shark. Much of his original swagger seemed to have returned to him now he was back in command of his vessel, though his nose was still swollen and purple over the bridge, and the sight of it made her insides smile.

'That was quite the performance you gave us yester-eve,' he continued with a buoyant grin.

Ever the one to reward like with like, Fritha rejoined politely, 'What do you _want_, Havarian?'

Saemon wetted his lips nervously, though he seemed resolved to persist.

'M'lady, I know that our acquaintance so far hasn't exactly been on the best of terms, but I have something for you -to mend the breach, as it were.'

'Unless it's a new soul, I'm really not interested.'

He gave a tense laugh, producing from behind his back a long silver sword, the metal seeming to ripple with a misty light of its own.

'Here, m'lady, have you ever seen so fine a blade? And I would like you to have it, a peace offering of sorts.'

'I don't want it,' said Fritha bluntly.

'Come, m'lady, it-'

'You get that sword out of my face _now_, or I will sheath it in your stomach.'

If there was one thing Saemon knew, it was when to beat a hasty retreat. 'Ah, indeed, well, perhaps we can speak on this again later, m'lady. A good day to you.'

And he turned to leave, the captain nodding politely to the three women as he passed them, Jaheira, Imoen and Aerie on a heading straight for her.

_Oh, and look who've come to lecture you _now_; it's Flopsy, Mopsey and Cottontail. _

'Oh gods, what do they want?' Fritha muttered and she was not alone in her displeasure, the druid already frowning as she closed to her.

'Fritha, we-'

A pointed cough from Imoen. Jaheira sighed tersely.

'_Aerie and_ _I_ have been speaking to Anomen-'

'Anomen?' Fritha cried, quite forgetting the scorn she usually slathered upon that word in her surprise; she had been _sure_ the first lecture of the day was going to be on the dangers of rum and pirates. 'What's he got to do with the price of fish?'

Aerie glanced to the woman next to her for a reassuring nod before venturing, 'We know you are probably still angry with him, Fritha, but we think you should give him another chance.'

'Oh, well, everyone is entitled to their opinion, I suppose,' Fritha snorted, making to return her attention to the sea and whirling back to them in sudden temper as she added, '_Did he ask you to come over here?_'

'No, no,' Aerie hastened to assure her, 'we came ourselves.'

Fritha nodded sternly. 'Good. And to answer your question: no, I have no intention of giving him yet _another_ chance.'

'But, Fritha,' the elf pressed earnestly, 'if you could only see him sat in the galley now, so despondent and miserable, and-'

'-no longer any concern of mine. I have made my feelings in this quite clear to Anomen -our relationship is over, though I do not see any reason why we cannot remain civil –at least until we reach the city and can part ways.'

There was not a diplomatic discussion _yet_ that had not benefited from Jaheira wading in to it.

'Fritha, must you be so stubborn? He cares for you deeply and you yourself have been much happier these last few tenday.'

Fritha's eyes narrowed. 'And what would _you_ know of it?'

'Well-'

'We saw-'

'You saw nothing! _You_ were too busy wrapped up in your own problems, while _you_ were just wrapped around Haer'Dalis's face.'

Imoen was laughing, Jaheira looking like she was _just_ wrestling herself back from losing her temper, though Aerie was not so easily baited.

'We understand that he hurt you, Fritha,' she continued with that maddeningly calm air, 'but his contrition could not be more intense; if you would only-'

Fritha felt her anger rising.

'If I would only _what?_ The one time, Aerie, the _one_ time he couldn't make a mistake; the one time he couldn't act like a complete _arse,_ but he did and I _won't_ forgive it!'

'Fritha, the regret he feels, it is torture for him!'

'Well, you know what? I don't care. Oh, shouldn't I have said that?' she sneered. 'Well, it's true: I couldn't care less. You see, I've lost my soul and with my desire to be put upon by every _fool_ between here and The Gate. Now, I am quite prepared to be civil with him as long as he doesn't start on with all that romantic nonsense, but that is it. If he still feels bad, then that is his own concern.'

'Fritha-!'

'Gods, give it a rest, Jaheira,' snapped Imoen, 'Fritha says she isn't putting up with him anymore, and she doesn't have to. Right, Fritha?' she crowed, ready for the assent, ready for the agreement that would confirm all was as it had always been: they two against the world. But it did not come.

Imoen glanced behind her, Fritha already stalked off and being welcomed into a small knot of sailors by the mast, the group laughing as one presented to her, on bended knee, the sari she had been dancing in the night before, another passing her a bottle of wine for her hangover. Imoen turned back to find Jaheira watching her, her eyes soft.

'Imoen-'

'Don't,' she muttered, the hot angry tears welling behind her eyes, 'Don't say a thing.'

Imoen would not be comforted or even spoken to after Fritha's abrupt departure, but she did consent to follow them back to the aft deck where the rest of their group eventually settled. And the remainder of the morning was passed in cards, Anomen the only one who did not join the games, the man instead staring out to sea, his back pointedly to the group of sailors gathered on the deck below, who were spending the time similarly with cards and dice, only more loudly with a lot more laughter and jeering.

Anomen stared out to the horizon, just letting that blue grey field of sea and sky blur into one meaningless void, the shouts and laughter from the deck below washing over him and _almost_ ignored. Perhaps he would go below and make his worship again. It would be the third time that morning, the man just intoning prayer after prayer to the glory of Helm's name, going through the countless mantras he had learnt by heart those many years ago at the seminary, because it was only then, when knelt before his god, that he did not feel like the most wretched man in existence. Something in his subconscious started him back to the deck. His eyes had caught on something, a shape irregular enough to jar even as it blended in to the horizon, grey against grey. A cry from far above made him start; Anomen casting his gaze up to the young half-elf sat on lookout on the main top.

'Captain! Ship sighted off the starboard bow and bearing toward us. It bears no flag, sah.'

Saemon looked rather more rattled than would have usually been expected for a not so uncommon occurrence. 'No flag? Change course to outrun them, set new heading north-north-west.'

A furry of activity as sails were reset, but it was in vain, the vessel closing upon them at a speed that outpaced the wind, a ship of twisted bone that recalled to Anomen the astral prison from so many months ago. He would have been the first to admit he was not an experienced seafaring man, but he had never seen a ship like it and, from the number of men hanging over the rails below, they hadn't either. Anomen watched it approaching, his heart quickening with an unnamed fear as it drew closer and he noticed it was not even parting the water, but dashing a clear yard above the waves.

His eyes snapped back to the deck below, catching on that familiar head of ginger curls, Fritha leant over the rail with the other men and Anomen was about to shout for her to get up there that _instant_, but Havarian's yell cut him off.

'Men, ready your weapons! Prepare to be boarded.'

The ship was infused with a nervous energy, men running below to fetch swords and what little armour they had, others just drawing the long daggers and knives they carried with them always. His own group were on their feet by now, the seven of them pounding down the ladder to join the lines that were forming on the deck as the ship drew along side.

The crew were men, but only in the most basic sense of the word, a company of tall gaunt figures, their pale skin looking as yellow and rough as old vellum, dark hair drawn back in knots of various styles, the weak sunlight catching on ornate armour and swords. Their captain was the tallest of them all, the man leaping onto the thick rail of his ship, black eyes darting over their deck as he shouted across to them.

'Blade-Thieves! The Githyanki demand recompense! You have the relic of holies!'

Havarian made their reply, though Anomen noticed he did so from behind the rest of them.

'Your pardon, but I do not know what you are talking about. Speak clearly that I might understand,' he rejoined, trying to affect his usual air of innocence. It did not work.

'Understand that we see all that you do! You have trespassed and taken what is not yours.'

Further down the line, Fritha sighed audibly. 'Saemon, are there no bounds to your idiocy? You seem resolved to make an enemy of every powerful creature you encounter.'

Back on the Githyanki ship, the captain's scant patience had finally been exhausted. 'Enough! The sacred blade of the Githyanki is aboard this ship! Detection does not lie! All will perish for this insult!'

'Now, just wa-'

Saemon's stalling was lost in the guttural war cries, the Githyanki captain the first of his crew to make the leap between the ships, his rippling silver blade singing through the air as it cut down two sailors, before he had even hit the deck.

A roar went up, the sailors surging forward to avenge their brothers and the deck was a storm of clashes and screams as the two crews met in steel and blood, magic surging from the aft deck, where Imoen, Aerie and, strangely, Saemon were throwing their spells into the enemy.

Anomen swung his mace out, held in both hands in the absence of his shield and the Githyanki's blade was unable to deflect the force of the blow, his skull shattered but seconds later. The knight did not even watch him fall, his attention immediately redirecting as he cast his eyes over the disorder to find her. Fritha allied with the towering Daegul as they fought a well-armoured Githyanki warrior, the girl sending him staggering back with a brutal cut across the face and pressing forward even as Daegul finished him, the girl seeming bent on fighting her way to their captain and Anomen charging through the knots of combat, trying to reach her before she got herself killed.

A Githyanki soldier dived into his path, sword sweeping up and Anomen was pulling back to catch the blow against the pommel when a deafening crash shook the deck to send them both sprawling. The air rang with curses, someone bursting from the deck hatch to scream, 'We're sinking! The Sahuagin board us! Abandon ship!'

It was as though a madness had descended at his words. The ship was already listing violently to one side, the shouts of the sailors filling the air, some already toppled in the water and being dragged below by unseen hands, while others frantically readied jolly boats for all the good it would do.

And the Githyanki were in as much trouble as they, it seemed. With their ship in no danger of sinking, the sahuagin had resorted to boarding her, the strange fish-people swarming up the sides and over the deck in numbers too great to vanquish. The Githyanki captain seemed to realise this too, the man ordering his ship in to a retreat, perhaps content with the idea they would be dead soon enough anyway.

Anomen searched for her in the chaos, Jaheira's shouts behind him for them to stay together going unheeded. He found Fritha at the prow, already barefoot and slowly unbuckling her sword, shoving that too into her open pack with the unflustered resignation of one who knew they would soon be swimming whether they liked it or not.

'Fritha!' he shouted above the cries and she glanced up, walking over to him.

'Take off your boots and cloak,' she said by way of greeting, 'They will only pull you down.'

He stared down at her passive face, briefly wondering whether the fact he would soon be plunged into sahuagin-infested waters was more or less worrying than Fritha's unruffled acceptance of the whole thing.

'Come, Fritha,' he urged even as he heeded her, unfastening his cloak to just leave it discarded there on the deck, 'Jaheira is gathering everyone in the stern.'

And without a word, she followed him.

Up on the aft deck, everyone was busy unbuckling armour and lightening their packs, throwing out bedding, rations and anything else that would drag them under, and the pair joined them, Anomen reluctantly discarding his cuirass to the deck, his family shield still below where it would stay, the ship its final resting place. Minsc, though, was more worried for his hamster than any of his belongings, Aerie trying to soothe him as she placed a charm on his belt pouch.

'There Minsc, that should keep the water out –at least for a time.'

'Oh, thank you, little Aerie, Boo is very grateful.'

'Fritha, what are you doing?' demanded Jaheira, the woman glancing up to see her bent securing her lute case to the back of her pack, 'Take that off this instant!'

'No, the case is buoyant, it comes.'

'Until it logs with water –remove it now!'

'No! The lute dies with me!' Fritha snapped, the girl bending forward and struggling to heave the chain shirt from her shoulders, 'Now, help me get my-'

The ship shuddered, the scream of men lost in the shriek of splintering wood as the deck split into two and there was a scramble on the aft deck as the main mast came hurtling down to smash what was left of the ship into the icy water.

Anomen floundered in the darkness, his lungs burning as the pressure within them screamed for release. He did not know which way was up or even his own name anymore, his mind fighting to understand through the absolute cold into which it had suddenly been plunged. A field of white above him and Anomen broke the surface with a lung scalding gasp to find himself under one of the sails. He cast about him, the soaking canvas blocking all else from view as he shouted hoarsely.

'Fritha? Jaheira?'

'Anomen?'

Anomen whirled to the sound, trying to keep above water as he spared an arm to raise the canvas further above his head and found Aerie a few yards away, hair floating about her in a golden aura.

'Aerie?'

He made to swim to her, the elf about to speak again, when her face lit with an unknown horror and she was whipped below the surface.

'_Aerie!_'

Anomen renewed his efforts to reach her, almost at the spot when something clamped about his leg. He kicked it off, more hands replacing it, pulling him under, his last memory: a flash of teeth in the freezing darkness.

xxx

Haer'Dalis drew a deep ragged breath, his throat raw and disgustingly salty. Every muscle ached from his struggles with the water, but he welcomed the pain –it meant he was alive if nothing else. He shifted, becoming more aware of himself as the moments passed, his clothes damp and clinging to him uncomfortably, the hand that had once been clasped about Aerie's wrist now empty, and he sat quickly, the pain that flared through him nothing in his relief as he found her lying just a few feet away, the rest of their companions laid about him, bodies arranged neatly in three rows of four, three and then just one upon the cool stone tiles -like sacrifices awaiting the knife.

Aerie was breathing, steady and strong, the others already stirring and Haer'Dalis let his attention rise to their surroundings. They were gathered in a long room of blue stone, likely some sort of temple from the large altar set upon the dais before them, a narrow moat of water flowing around it from some unseen source. Bright mosaics of stone and gems decorated the walls, two rows of bulbous pillars reaching far up to a ceiling that was, surprisingly, not blue stone, but of a rough grey rock, unadorned and uneven, as the roof of a cavern. Haer'Dalis stared into the gloom between the two pillars next to him, a heap of bags, armour and weapons neatly piled within, and he was sure he could see the dim lamps catching on the clasp of his lyre case; it was their belongings.

The slap of wet leather on stone and he whipped back to see a humanoid creature emerge from behind the stone altar and walk down the steps towards them. Its blue-green skin was covered in scales, fins arcing from its back, head and forearms, its thick neck widening into a large smooth head set with round oil-black eyes and a wide mouth full of needle sharp teeth, its muscular piscine tail slapping down the steps and splashing through the shallow moat as it trailed after the creature.

It opened its mouth and Haer'Dalis was honestly expecting some sort of growl. But what came was a voice, mellow and gurgling, like water being sucked through a small fissure.

'Awaken, children of the light.'

It was wearing a simple white tunic, just two panes of what was likely silk, and as the creature closed to them he could see it was pinned at the shoulders and waist with fine golden broaches, a necklace of precious stones and shells about its neck and bearing a large gold shark's tooth as pendant. What had the sailors shouted about? Sahuagin?

Hear'Dalis was glad to see his reaction was not the only one of surprise; at the end of the row, Imoen had sat, shaking the hair from her eyes only to scoot backwards in her shock. The creature held up a large webbed hand.

'Do not be afraid, surfacers.'

'Can it understand?' came a voice behind them, their group whipping around as one to see another of the creatures, this one taller and bearing a shark skin harness and spear. 'The most exalted King Ixilthetocal awaits it.'

The first creature nodded once. 'Sekolah has granted them the ability to understand our tongue, though they will likely still be disorientated. Wait outside, Captain, I shall bring the surfacers to you when they are ready.'

'What is going on?' demanded Valygar, 'Who are you?'

'Calm yourselves,' the creature gurgled serenely, 'all will be revealed in time. I am Royal High Priestess Senityili and you are in the City-of-Caverns, one of the sahuagin's most ancient places.'

'Why did you attack our ship?' asked Fritha, the girl knelt where she had been placed, alone in a row of her own and closest to the altar. Senityili gazed down at her with fathomless black eyes.

'The Githyanki aimed to kill you; we could not let that happen.'

'Ah, well, thanks and everything,' Imoen laughed nervously, 'but, er, why would you care?'

'There is a prophecy.'

Fritha exhaled tersely. 'Oh, not another one.'

Haer'Dalis could sympathise with her displeasure. When Aerie had first told him of her heritage, it had been the one thing for which he had pitied the girl. He had never liked the idea of living under prophecy; your entire destiny controlled by the words of some long dead seer, though he could see now it had its advantages. Senityili was padding back to the large stone altar, a hand held up and gesturing to the hanging behind it, where dyes and paints depicted her story frame by frame.

'Long ago, the Shark-Father, Sekolah, spoke to us through the great and only High Priest, Sixiltilys, and gave to us our most sacred prophecy. That when the great City-of-Caverns has most need of it, the Shark-Father will send to us a saviour. That time has come; the City-of-Caverns is in grave danger. I have made my divinations, have read the signs in the blessed shark entrails and the swirl of the tides, and both have shown me the way. Your ship was the harbinger.' She pointed to Fritha, 'You are the one, surfacer, who will save our people.'

Imoen looked sceptical; with those four months apart, perhaps she was having a difficult time coming to terms with the fact her childhood friend was the Shark-God's divine champion.

'Er, fair enough, but lots of other people were on that ship -how d'you know it wasn't any of them?'

A sweep of her hand and the hanging was aside, a painted carving on the wall behind, the stylised outlines of green and blue sahuagin all bearing gifts and knelt in reverence either side of the central figure: a pale, finless creature of webbed claws, needle teeth and wild orange hair.

'Oh. Right.'

'Come,' continued Senityili, moving down the steps to join them once more, 'I must take you to Captain Feerlatiys; you must be presented to the king.'

They were escorted from the temple by the Captain, the Priestess and two other sahuagin guards, the four leading them along wide walkways, all of the same blue stone tiles, canals of water flowing all about them, falling in waterfalls and gathering in large square pools where steps led straight down to the water's edge and Fritha could see the city falling away far below them beneath the surface. As for up there in the air, everything seemed to be covered in a thin film of oil that shimmered with a rainbow's hue in the light of the lamps that lines the walkway's edge, the pillars from which they were hung and indeed the buildings they passed all stretching up to the rough cavern roof, the stone rippling with the light reflected up from the waters around them.

Senityili noticed her curiosity to explain, 'It is the roof of the Great Cavern. We are in the uppermost heart of the City-of-Caverns; a rare realm of air in our city beneath the sea. Our most important buildings find their place here, our temple and the palace among others, and it is our law that all buildings must open upon the roof of the Great Cavern, a reminder of this place and the protection it affords our most sacred city.'

'But how does the air here remain breathable if it is but a pocket?' asked Aerie. The priestess nodded, seemingly pleased by her question.

'This cavern is linked to the others of our city by the waters beneath us, but other passages link this level to your own realm of air.'

'You mean the surface?' cried Imoen eagerly. Senityili flapped her tail in what could have been a shrug.

'As we would call it, yes, though I doubt you would consider it so. It is not your own land of light and sun, child, but a black place of caverns as large as our own. I believe you would know it as the Underdark.'

They walked the rest of the way to the palace in grim silence, finally arriving before two large doors decorated in a mosaic of gold and green sharks, their group admitted to a large hall of a similar layout to the temple, though instead of an altar to focus their worship, a large sahuagin, his long fins tipped in a vivid purple, was seated upon an ornate coral throne, guards positioned before every pillar, while the rest of his courtiers were lined either side behind them and talking quietly amongst themselves. The doors closed behind them, and Fritha fancied she could even hear the gentle swell of the waves so far above in the abrupt silence, a whole room of glossy black eyes suddenly fixed upon them.

Senityili approached the throne to bow deeply.

'We are here, your majesty, as you command, and we bring the blessed one.'

The king flicked his tail with a bored nonchalance. 'Do you now? The one the mighty Sekolah promised us? It is one of these strange creatures assembled behind you, we assume. Well, have it step forward then, let us have a look at it.'

Senityili bowed again, beckoning Fritha forward. 'This, your majesty, is the blessed one; the one of whom the prophecy speaks.'

A murmur of doubt rippled about the room, the court all staring at their saviour, and Fritha could understand their concerns. Surfacers were usually little more than meat to the sahaugin; it would be like someone asking Athkatla or the Gate to put all their faith in a talking cow.

The king was leaning forward, Fritha having to fight against turning her face away as his gaping mouth closed to her, the smell of fish overpowering.

'It seems a most strange saviour. It has no scales and its teeth are tiny.'

The priestess sounded anxious. 'Ah, yes, most honourable king: it is a surfacer, as the prophecy foretold.'

The king drew back with a dissatisfied 'Hmph!', his beady black eyes swivelling to take in those behind her. 'And who are these things with it?'

Senityili was prompt to answer him. 'The blessed one attends here with her servants-'

'Servants?_'_ choked Imoen shrilly.

Fritha dipped a polite nod to the priestess at her side.

'They are not my servants, honoured priestess… They are my acolytes.'

'_Acolytes?_'

Fritha tried not to smile at the disgruntled muttering that had just erupted behind her, and she was not the only one who was pleased, the king slapping his tail against his throne as he laughed loudly.

'Acolytes, eh? Oho, that does sound promising! And what do you think, soft one?' he continued, leaning forward once more to speak to Fritha herself. 'Do you believe you are the one of whom the prophecy speaks?'

Fritha nodded, addressing the court as a whole; there was no point being shy about it. 'Yes, your majesty. I have many prophecies to my name, both here and on the surface.'

'Aha! Well, this is all very good, but how are you to go about this, the saving of our great city?'

'If I might make a suggestion, your majesty?' came a male sahuagin, who did not appear to be wearing any actual clothes as much as a lot of jewellery, the male stepping forward from those courtiers gathered to approach the throne.

'Baron Thelokassyil, yes, what is it?'

'Well, your majesty, you could assign these surfacers to destroy the rebels.'

The king slammed a webbed fist against the arm of his throne.

'Oh yes, the rebels; an excellent task to set these surfacers to! Now, listen carefully, blessed one, that you may know just how to serve us. There is a group of rebels gathering outside the city under that young upstart -what was his name, Prince… Prince… Prince Villynaty! We exiled him a good while ago now –we can't quite remember what he did now, but we are sure he deserved it at the time- and we really thought it an end to the matter. But instead of leaving us in peace, he has gone and raised a rebel army and is set on overthrowing us! The impudence! Your task will be to attack the rebel stronghold and kill them all.'

Senityili's fins rattled nervously. 'But, honourable king, I thought you had decided in your wisdom to pardon the rebels, that the exiles could rejoin our city. All the time our bloodline grows weaker and more territories are lost to the drow and Illithids. If they are allowed to return, the City-of-Caverns would be all the stronger for it.'

The king flicked his tail back and forth thoughtfully.

'Did we agree to that? Hmm, we do not recall it.' He let his fins droop in sympathy. 'We understand your words, priestess, that we do… but we think we would still much rather have the Prince's heart. So, you have your task, surfacer,' he continued eagerly to Fritha, 'Bring to us Prince Villynaty's heart and we will shower you with treasures and show you the way back to the surface –for you surely cannot stay here indefinitely,' he added with a gurgling chuckle. 'Oh no, that would not do, for we might forget ourselves and eat you in error.' He turned a stern frown on the male next to him, '_You_ would not think of eating our blessed saviour would you, Baron?'

The Baron hurriedly dipped his face. 'Er, no, your majesty.'

'Quite so. So, surfacer, save the city and be rewarded and everyone will be happy! Well, except for Villynaty! Ha!' The king stood abruptly, the surrounding court all dipping their heads. 'This audience is over. Senityili, return them to the temple and give them details of the rebels that they may begin.'

'As you say, your majesty.'

xxx

It was night, or at least, their version of it, two acolytes moving about the temple to dim the lamps, while another was knelt by the small table just behind them laying out a meal of dried seaweeds and what looked to have once been fish prior to its cremation, before the three sahuagin at last rose and left them to their rest. Senityili had suggested they spend the night there, in the temple, for their own safety, the priestess plainly stating that there were those in the city who would wish them harm, though she did not elaborate as to who. Their belongings, and many more things besides which had been rescued from the wreck, had finally been returned, useful equipment as well as many treasured items believed lost forever now back with them and the atmosphere was light despite the setting as they set about cleaning the salt from the metal and leather both, before rot and rust could set in, the temple floor scattered with drying clothes and parchment, their bedding still unpleasantly damp and thick enough that it likely would not dry before they needed to sleep.

Fritha was too tired to care, her damp bedding already laid out, a small group of drying books making a tiny campsite at her head as she laid back to look up at the shimmering roof of the cavern, glowing lichens and clusters of agate flickering like stars. She was half-glad they had suffered this diversion; she would have never seen such a city otherwise. She knew well she was very likely going to die and it was a little more of life to be experienced before her inevitable end.

How strange that some sahuagin, so long ago, had predicted her existence. Had he known of her life? Seen her birth, her joy, her suffering, her end? Or had it just been a glimpse of this little bit where she affected his people?

Fritha shifted onto her side, glancing over at Anomen, the man sat on his bedding cleaning his shield with a slow methodical rhythm. She wanted to feel sorry for him or, better yet, to hate him, but, in truth, she felt nothing, just tired and empty and vaguely unhappy with the way her life had turned out. And yet, even that was fading, and it was small comfort to know that when her end came, she may well no longer have the capacity to even care.

Fritha sighed, rolling on her back once more. The Underdark was beckoning… Was she to believe it was mere coincidence that her only path forward just happened to be where Irenicus had gone? The Fates were dragging her to a confrontation whether she was ready or not, and Fritha had no doubt that wherever in the Underdark the sahuagin's path led, that mage would not be far away. Perhaps, if she were lucky, they would even reach him in time for him to kill her, rather than her just being swallowed by the emptiness within.

_Now, don't think like that, petal, it helps no one._

No, it did not, but it was hard to remain bright. Imoen had been without her soul for over a tenday now, but she seemed to be dealing with the loss much better than she –the fact she was not exploding with the living embodiment of Murder could only be a good sign- and Fritha decided were it to come down to a choice between them, they would pursue Bohdi, if only because she believe there was more of her friend left to save.

Fritha laid still, listening to the sound of the others about her, talking quietly amongst themselves as they dried and sorted their belongings. They had been through much together over those last few months and she felt it was a point of honour that, after so long as their leader, she see them all through this last stretch alive. Perhaps she should tell them that? But, no… Everything she said came out wrong, at the moment –admittedly for the most part by her own design, but it seemed even words meant to bolster were only a source of dissatisfaction for them. Was she so removed from her previous self that she was beyond their comprehension? Was it so difficult to understand that now, as she stood amongst them dying, she just could not be bothered with all that talk and soul-searching. Why did she still have to tip-toe around them, making sure her chosen path for survival didn't hurt any _feelings__?_

'Ho there, my raven.'

Fritha sat to see Haer'Dalis picking his way across their camp, a bowl of fish in each hand. His smile was cautious, as though unsure of his welcome, and his reluctance stung, though not as much as it once would have.

'Hello, Haer'Dalis.'

The wariness faded at her greeting, his smile more genuine as he handed her a bowl and dropped to sit cross-legged at her side.

'There, do not ask me what it is, for I have not a clue –and I have not a spoon either,' he added with a laugh, 'Our hosts neglected to provide any.'

'Here,' murmured Fritha, rooting in her bag to finally produce a fork which she handed to him, the girl fishing her knife from her damp pocket for her own use as he continued.

'I was just getting the last of the salt from my lyre; the wooden frame will need to be re-polished but I do not think the instrument itself is damaged. Did your lute survived the soak?'

Fritha nodded, swallowing a mouthful of very burnt fish; from what she knew, the sahaugin took most of their meats raw, though she could appreciate the fact they had gone to the trouble to prepare their own meal in a way they understood surfacers to prefer -even if they had been a touch zealous with it.

'Yes,' she answered finally, pointing to the long box at her feet, 'I scratched a charm upon the case to seal it, see?'

The bard peered at the hastily carved runes with a smile. 'Ah, cleverly done, my raven, perhaps you can favour us with a song later.'

She shook her head, grimly going back to her bowl.

'No, the time for songs is over now.'

And for a short while, the crunch of well-cooked fish was the only noise between them, a presence looming over the pair before either could speak again. Anomen was arrived and looking awkward, a rag and large tin of metal polish in one hand as he eyed the gleaming heap of chainmail at Fritha's side, her mail shirt just as damp and briny as when it had been hauled with her from the waters –the girl rather delighting in the idea that it could rot as she did.

'Fritha, do you need to use the polish?'

'No.'

The knight seemed to wrestle with himself a moment, his voice little more than a resigned sigh as he offered, 'Then may I use it for you?'

The girl shrugged indifferently, pushing the chain towards him with her foot.

'Be my guest.'

Anomen sighed again, stooping to retrieve it as she returned pointedly to her conversation with Haer'Dalis.

'So have you everything accounted for then?'

The tiefling blinked, looking almost uncomfortable as he faltered, 'I, well, a couple of books that were in my cabin are still missing, but they were hardly irreplaceable. And you, my raven?'

She snorted darkly, eyes on Anomen as he slowly worked the salt from her chain.

'No, nothing irreplaceable.'

'You and he seem on better terms,' said Haer'Dalis. Fritha turned back to him with a shrug.

'Do we? Well, to be honest with you, I bare him no true ill will. After all, we hardly had any relationship to speak of anyway; just a tenday of pleasantries really -we never even kissed.'

Haer'Dalis choked on a forkful of seaweed.

'_Never?'_

'No, our relationship wasn't at kissing yet, or perhaps it was past that part… I loved him, you know,' she confessed mildly, unable to recall the feeling even as she knew it had been so. 'Ah, perhaps it is better we'd never kissed; that sort of thing can be compelling, so I hear, and I might be here now trying to seduce you.'

She laughed, though Haer'Dalis did not share her humour, the man leaning forward to gently cup her face, a lot of emotion behind the gesture as he sighed, 'Oh, my sweet dear Fritha.'

She smiled, batting his hand away, though not unkindly. 'Ah, such is life, sparrow. I was never meant for a happy ending.'

A creak of the doors at the back of the temple, a shape entering, though the shadows hid just who. Fritha's hands fell to her sword, Senityili's warning of faceless enemies at the fore of her mind, and the others were clearly thinking the same, everyone on their feet as Jaheira demanded, 'Who walks there?'

'Do not be afraid, children of the light; it is I, Senityili.'

'Oh,' sighed Fritha, sheathing her blade, 'did you want something?'

The priestess nodded. 'Indeed, it is so. I wanted to speak with you, blessed one, on matters of great importance. Perhaps we can retreat to the altar to share our thoughts privately? Or indeed, dismiss your acolytes and we can speak here.'

A round of mutinous glares that were just daring her to try it. Fritha smiled to herself; they really didn't think much of her anymore, did they?

'No, they can stay, priestess; they should hear this as well.'

'As you will it, blessed one,' Senityili demurred, the female dropping to sit on the floor next to her and all retook their seats as she continued.

'Though it is treason for me to speak so, I will say it: our king is mad. Surely, your audience showed you this. He is the result of poor breeding. Like his father, he has executed or exiled far too many of our kind in a bid to keep the throne from potential upstarts, and in doing so he has doomed our city. The hatcheries are barren and there are too few females… in short, the bloodline grows thin. Prince Villynaty and the rebels may be the city's only hope. With the Prince on the throne and the fresh blood of the exiles returned, we would be strong again, strong enough to fight the drow and Illithids, and keep our city safe.' The priestess dipped her head in reverence. 'You are the prophesied one, and I will abide by your decision whatever it be, for only you will know the true way to save our people. But I believe you should be aware of all the paths laid out to you, before you are forced to choose one.'

Fritha glanced to those about her, seeing no sign of any initial objection and she turned back to Senityili.

'I will speak with the Prince and make my decision then.'

Senityili's eyes narrowed in her relief. 'I thank you, blessed one. Come,' she continued, standing suddenly, 'we must leave now, if we are to meet them -and do not bring your armour, we will have to take to the water.'

The predictable sighs of discontent, Imoen whining miserably, 'Aww, and I've only just got dry, too.'

'And what of Boo?' cried Minsc, 'He did not like his swim the first time!'

'Stay here then,' offered Fritha, stooping to unlace her boots for the second time that day, 'I can go alone.'

But no one, it seemed, was keen on that idea and, in the end, they all followed Senityili through the darkened walkways, Boo left in the temple, guarding their belongings.

At her side, Imoen was gazing about her with a wary look, the lamps of the city dimmed to a pale emerald green and eerie with it.

'Fritha, I'm not so sure about this.'

'You aren't _still_ crying about getting wet again, are you?'

'_No_,' her friend corrected sharply, 'I was just wondering, well, whether we should be doing this,' Imoen dropped her voice to a breathy whisper, 'actually helping the sahuagin and making them stronger? I mean, they are kind of evil –we'd be a hearty lunch for that mad king if it wasn't for your being their _chosen one_.'

'Yes, but I _am _their chosen one,' Fritha countered gravely, hearing the slight scorn her friend had placed on her piscine divinity and coming to the quick conclusion that nothing would annoy Imoen more than her playing it up, 'and as their saviour I have a duty to the sahuagin to aid them if I can –all things are needed in this world, Imoen, even evil monsters like us –ah, I mean _them_.'

Imoen did _not_ find her slip amusing, though luckily Jaheira was on hand with her oar to distract from it.

'She is right, Imoen; all are needed in the balance of the Underdark. Take away the sahuagin and their enemies become more powerful –the drow or the Illithids. This race, evil as it is, is needed to fight the others and keep each other occupied, that no one becomes too powerful and turns their gaze upon the surface.'

Ahead of them, Senityili had halted at the top of a wide flight of stone steps that descend down to disappear into the pool beneath, the water shimmering black in the dimmed lamps.

'We are here, blessed one. Please know that we have bought this meeting in blood we could ill-afford to shed. The King has placed a curfew on the Undercity and many guards patrol it at night, keeping watch for the rebels. An attack by our number has been arranged on the other side of the Great Cavern to distract from our passage now.' She paused, tail flicking uncertainly as she added, 'I understand that the Prince may not be all you expect, but- but he has the loyalty of the exiles and it is their return more than anything that will save our city. '

Senityili raised her hands, a silvery light engulfing them.

'There, the mighty Sekolah has granted you the ability to breath as we. Come, we must hurry.'

And with that, the priestess immediately turned to make her descent into the still waters, Fritha sending a grin to those behind as she stepped after her.

It was a strange feeling, breathing in water instead of air, her taste buds balking at the saline liquid and Fritha could not say she was getting used to it even towards the end of their journey. Down through the sleeping city they swam, the buildings just huge towers of blue stone, their bases fixed somewhere of the seabed far below. Apertures of different sizes peppered the columns, their surfaces decorated in shells and pebbles, likely by the residents, each seemingly trying to outdo their neighbour with the splendour of their designs, the large green lamps that bobbed every few yards highlighting their work.

They saw no one, the occasional shadow moving across a window the only sign that the whole city was not completely deserted. Fritha rather liked it.

They seemed to swim for hours, though it was likely little over one, each stroke becoming increasingly painful as they travelled down through the city to reach what must have been the wall of the cavern itself, a living mosaic of coral, seaweeds and shellfish clinging the rock. There were no lights there and Senityili did not call one either, instead using her hands and feet to see as she swam up and down the rough cavern wall when, at last, she found what she was looking for. A small hole, large enough for a sahuagin, but only just, the opening hidden behind a forest of kelp.

And finally they surfaced, the air filled with coughing as they staggered from the water into a small tunnel, the sandy floor clinging to their wet clothes.

'The great Sekolah has given us a pocket of air here, at least for a short time, that you may have this meeting in comfort,' announced Senityili, a kindness rather lost on the group stood soaked through and shivering before her. 'Come, I must present you to the Prince.'

A short way along the narrow tunnel and the passage opened out into a small cave, the Prince just another large sahuagin, who at least seemed less mad than the monarch he desired to overthrow; the two guards stood just behind him bearing glowing blue torches rather than spears.

The meeting began. Fritha could see why Senityili had given them her warning earlier –she really did not think there was much between the prince and the king, Villynaty seemingly more concerned with getting the throne, than what it meant for his people. But he agreed that all those exiled should be returned to the city and, moreover, he had Senityili's confidence and since she was the only sahuagin Fritha trusted, that was enough for her.

And so the plan was agreed and set in motion, their group returning to the temple, Fritha bearing a large sahuagin heart of unknown origin wrapped in a scrap of oiled seal-skin with which to present the king on the morrow, that he drop his guard and give them their chance to strike.

Ixilthetocal was predictably jolly about the whole thing, greeting their news with a great laugh and claiming he was glad they had arrived before the noon, or the high tide as he had called it, for now he could take the heart as a side dish with his meal. And it seemed the celebrations were not to end there. As the Prince had predicted, the king was keen to show all his triumph, a large banquet being arranged for that very evening –Fritha and the others invited along as reluctant guests of honour.

Fritha had certainly been to merrier parties. Ixilthetocal's whole court seemed to live in fear of his mad whims – he had sent three of his guests off to be sacrificed before the third course, the rest of the courtiers keeping their heads low to their plates as they slurped up the slices of raw meat and fish. As for the king himself, he had certainly seemed to let his guard down, the creature seated at the head of that long stone table, laughing and joking and periodically musing on how Sekolah would take to him eating his blessed saviour, and the first he even suspected of their betrayal was when Prince Villynaty burst through the doors, spear already bearing blood of the guards he had killed to get there.

The fight was bloody, but short, the majority of the courtiers just fleeing for their lives as guards and rebels met in a clash of claws and spears, their own group gathering in a corner before Senityili, keeping the vengeful palace guards from the priestess as she called on the power of her Shark-God and, at last, it was over. Though little better than the king he had replaced, Prince Villynaty was at least as generous, rewarding their aid with gold and jewellery from the treasures, and the greatest prize of all: passage from that realm.

**…**

Senityili nodded to the two guards, the sahuagin males moving to unlock the huge metal gates they had been guarding

'There, the passage to the surface. Follow the tunnel until you reach a dead end. The only way from there is upward, but the rope I have gifted you should aid your ascent. Its magic is strong; just do as I instructed and all will be well.' She regarded them all with expressionless black eyes, her gaze finally returning to its starting point, fixed upon Fritha. 'The time to part has come, blessed one; I thank you for the aid you afforded our people.'

'You are welcome, priestess.'

Senityili nodded again to the guards and the gates were pulled back with a shrill groan, werelights flickering into life one by one as their group entered the darkness, Senityili still calling her farewells after them, the voice losing coherency as Sekolah's gift died.

'Be well, blessed one, may the tides always _thsseolix thiy 'ssolath xiaviss ytiantiss…_'


	88. Underdark

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Baldur's Gate', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

_Author's note: And we're_ finally _in the Underdark. What a slog! I sometimes wondered if I'd_ ever_ get this far. Thank you, as ever, to my betas, Maje, Doru, arabellaesque and WellspringCD and also to everyone who has stuck with the story for so long. Reviews are always welcome and thanks to those who have left feedback -it's definitely appreciated. _^_^

**Underdark**

They walked for little over an hour, the tunnel about them beginning to slope upwards towards the end, until they reached the wall Senityili had described. Fritha looked up, the passage continuing straight above them, the rough tunnel walls rising for a few yards above her head to be lost to the impenetrable darkness.

'Do you have the rope the priestess gave to you?' asked Jaheira, knowing full well she had and seemingly just wanting to break the grave silence that had descended over them. Fritha nodded once.

'Yes, stand back.'

The others did as she told them, shuffling back a few paces to give her room as she took the small coil of flaxen rope from her bag. The weave was smooth and light, more like a braid of hair than hemp, and shining with a faint glow all of its own. It could not have been more than a dozen yards long. Fritha found the end, letting the rest drop to coil on the floor at her feet as she hurled it upwards with all her might, rope flying into the air to continue snaking up into the darkness, her boot securing the other end to the cavern floor as it grew. According to Senityili, it would eventually find the exit and halt there, secured by its own magics, though it would bear their weight from the first moment.

Fritha stepped closer to give the now hanging rope a tentative tug. It seemed Senityili had been true to her word. She turned back to the others.

'Right, who's first?'

They must have climbed for a good couple of hours, the magic of the rope taking from them the burden of their bodies as well as their packs and Fritha was grateful it did; she was tired as it was, and there was no way some of them could have made the climb under their own strength.

Fritha dipped her face, pausing to stifle a yawn and instantly wishing she had not, her body all the more reluctant to begin moving again for this brief respite. She had not drunk last night, not quite trusting her tentative status as the sahuagin's champion to keep her safe, and her sleep had been restless, filled with strange dreams of darkness and blood that woke her more than once –though she had not been content to make the fuss Imoen had. Any moment Fritha was not being awoken by her own nightmares she was being awoken by her friend's, the girl screeching and wailing in her sleep, only to awaken to cry and sob for another good few minutes. Fritha had tried to be sympathetic, but Imoen would take no amount of comfort and, in the end, Fritha just left Jaheira and Minsc to the pointless endeavour and went back to her own nightmares unheeded.

Fritha raised her face upwards, delighting in the cool breeze that was stirring the curls at her temples, like the breath before a kiss, banishing the warm tunnel air about her, stale and stifling from their exertions. They were close now. And, indeed, it was not long afterwards a strong arm was reaching down the tunnel for her, Minsc hauling up the rest of the way and she was, at last, standing next to him in the darkness, the stony floor beneath her feet and the jagged curve of the pit she had just crawled from the only things she could see.

_Welcome to the Underdark._

There was actually not a lot there. In her mind, unrealistic through it was, Fritha had conjured a place teeming with drow and deep gnomes and other creatures so rare as to be only seen in books- and there, for the most part, was where she would have wanted them to stay. But the reality was much more mundane, just an empty cavern, so large she could see neither the walls nor the roof in the meagre glow of their werelights, stalagmites towering like pillars, some joining with the dripping stalactites that hung from far above them to make huge archways; a great dark temple under the ground.

And their first encounter was suitably holy considering the city from where they had originally come, Valygar and Minsc following some small tracks that led to three duergar merchants who were on travelling back to their own dwelling and who did not care which side of the earth you came from as long as you had coin. They had asked after Bodhi and Irenicus, the merchants admitting they had indeed heard rumours of two surfacers as they had travelled north of there. The news was heartening and disappointing in the same instance, the group stocking up on the few supplies which had not survived their swim, as well as a map of surrounding area that glowed with a heat all of its own, the details brought out in warmth, rather than ink, presumably for those who could see such things and did not want to rely on light to make their way -a skill which would have certainly been of use to their group as well.

They were heading northwards now, or at least that was what they had said -Aerie's sense of direction had never been the best. Minsc had found some tracks in the direction that the merchants had pointed them in, though they had faded after a while, and they had been wandering northwards ever since with what seemed to be the increasingly vain hope of finding them again.

Their werelights were dimmed to the slightest degree, just grains of light that showed little more than the ground before them, but Aerie still felt as though they were lit up like a beacon in that realm of darkness. She shivered under her pack, trying to focus more on the pleasantly airy space above her, rather than exactly _where_ she was. She had been brought up on horror stories of the Underdark and its races; to imagine she was there now, that they could be watching her at that very moment… Aerie drew a deep breath and quelled her fear before it ran away with her, fighting the urge to dim her magelight even further as Minsc brought them to a halt.

'A moment, please.'

'Here,' offered Fritha, crouching, as well, to hold out her light, 'What is it? The tracks?'

Minsc sighed and shook his head. 'I thought perhaps, but no. I am sorry, young Fritha.'

The girl shrugged, straightening to continue on their path. 'Isn't your fault, Minsc.'

Aerie felt her slightly awakened hopes fade again, the elf pulling her cloak about her as though it could shield her from the light in which they were bathed. 'I wish we could put out our lamps; I feel so exposed.'

'Are you mad, Aerie?' snorted Imoen, her pale face twisted with an unpleasant look of scorn that was likely fuelled by the same fear that twitched within her, 'not _all_ of us can see in dark.'

Behind her, Anomen was nodding firmly. 'Indeed, I have no desire to stumble around in the darkness.'

'Why?' asked Fritha, 'You're only stumbling around in the light now. Don't fret, Aerie,' she continued, her voice milder than she had heard it in a while, 'I imagine anything down here that cares will already know about us from all the noise we're making.'

'Well, I suppose,' Aerie agreed; there was little comfort in her logic. 'So where are we headed, then?'

Fritha glanced to the man next to her. 'What do you think, Minsc? Should we finally give up on these tracks?'

The ranger nodded glumly. Jaheira sighed, already unfurling the map.

'Well, if I am placing us at the correct point, there are some caves not far from here to the north west which are on the cusp of Kuo-Toa territory-'

'Kuo-Toa?' interrupted Valygar, 'The malevolent fish-people?'

Haer'Dalis was frowning. 'I thought that was the sahuagin?'

'No,' mused Fritha, 'I think they would be considered more shark than fish.'

'_Anyway_,' continued Jaheira, before anyone else offered an opinion on this irrelevance, 'with it being on the edge of their territory, it would be less likely to be patrolled by the duergar or drow, or even the Kuo-Toa themselves. It could make a safe enough camp.'

'Hmm, the watch will have to be half on half off, but it'll be better than nothing, I suppose,' nodded Fritha, the last word lost to another yawn. Anomen glanced to her.

'Are you tired?'

She returned his concern with a pointed contempt. 'Yes, Anomen, _perpetually_.'

'So what are our plans to be once we have rested?' continued Valygar, the group setting out once more, Jaheira and the map now in the lead. 'We cannot just wander down here indefinitely.'

'Well, we know Irenicus's final destination is Suldanessellar,' proposed Aerie, thinking her idea a sound one, even considering the fears which fed it. 'We could just find a route to the surface and wait for him there.'

'And what if him and that bitch of a sister stay down here for a month or so?' snapped Imoen, 'Fritha and I won't last that long.'

'Well, I don't see you coming up with any ideas,' Aerie snapped back, 'How do _you_ expect to find him?'

Fritha sighed to herself; oh, the pointless things they fought about.

'Now, now, children,' she soothed, making _sure_ her smile was audible, 'the Fates will provide.'

She felt it the instant Imoen's glare shifted to her back.

'For gods' sake, Fritha, I know those fish-idiots thought you were some sort of divine saviour, but-'

Fritha silenced her with a gesture, stopping dead in her tracks as she heard it and all about her halted as well. It had been there, she was sure of it, the slightest murmur on the breeze, Fritha straining to hear it again over their breathing, over the beating of her own blood. Behind her, Imoen was getting impatient.

'Wha-?'

It was lost in a squeak as Fritha whirled to grab her arm, tight and vicious in her urgency as she hissed, 'Be _quiet_. Can you hear it?'

Silence and then Aerie was nodding fervently, looking at Fritha almost warily as she admitted, 'Yes, I can hear it, it's very faint though, I think it's coming from over there.'

They extinguished the lights, Jaheira and Fritha leading the way together, the others snaking behind them, half their group now blind and relying on the other to lead them safely.

Fritha gazed about her, her eyes seeing further now the light was no longer interfering with them, the cavern brought out in a grainy grey outline, their path weaving between many stalagmites of her height and taller, and somewhere nearby she could hear the rush of water. The sound she had first heard was getting louder, too, and she could make out voices though they were speaking no language she understood. Jaheira glanced to her; even the others could hear it now, the druid holding up a hand to halt those that could see it –those that could not, finding out soon afterwards.

Together, Fritha and Jaheira crept forward, Aerie just behind them, the cluster of stalagmites before them providing cover as they finally found the source of voices. It was a group of drow, likely scouts by their equipment, who were diverted in whatever task had brought them out there by their capture of a young deep gnome. The poor boy was struggling in the grip of the tallest male, bald and bleating like a lamb, crying and pleading in his own guttural tongue as the drow held him aloft and another slowly drew a dagger, smiles lighting their faces.

Aerie's shriek near deafened her.

'_You!'_

And the elf was gone. Fritha swore, her werelight instantly summoned and bathing her in a blue-white glow as she dived after her.

'Aer- Oh, bastard! _Attack!_'

A crack of lightening and, for an instant, the cavern was opened to her eyes, a huge vault of glittering stone, as breathtaking as any natural wonder of the surface, though Fritha had little time to appreciate it, Aerie's magics arcing overhead and into the drow. Three dodged it, blinded though it must have left them, the fourth floored by its impact, but seemingly otherwise unharmed, the man shaking the pallid hair from his face as he struggled to find his feet. That was, until Minsc arrived above him, both hands gripped about the pommel of his greatsword as he smashed him across the face, even the vicious blow not preventing the drow from plunging the long dagger he had drawn into the Rashemi's thigh. Minsc roared, a downward thrust killing the drow to pin him where he lay.

The remaining drow had already recovered by this point, the groups locked in furious battle, Anomen trying to press the fight to his opponent as he dodged and danced, twin blades parrying every blow. Imoen sprang from behind a moss-covered boulder to slip a blade in his back only to shriek as a throwing dagger flashed in the lamplight, the drow's companion just spotting her in time. She dodged it, but she was clumsy in her surprise, ending up sprawled on the ground, Haer'Dalis already stood over her parrying the blade that had meant to finish her. Imoen rolled out from under their feet to slash across the back of his legs, the drow spitting a curse at her even as he leapt aside.

Jaheira bit back a curse of her own, the woman barely reacting in time to catch each strike as her own opponent moved with a speed she had rarely faced. She, at last, saw her chance and swung out, the drow ducking behind the stalagmite next to him to let the stone take the blow and leaping from the other side before she could ready her defence, the man bearing the cruel smile of a victory. And forever was it frozen on his face as Fritha appeared behind him, sweeping down to cleave down through his neck and shoulder with the sickening crunch of gristle.

A scream behind them as Anomen finally pinned down his opponent for one good swing, and his cry signalled the end, the remaining drow turning from Haer'Dalis and Imoen to make a run for the darkness that would be his salvation. He fell on the edge of their lights, Valygar's arrow planted firmly through his back.

Aerie was already fussing over Minsc, tending his leg wound, while Imoen shrugged off Jaheira's concern with a sulky embarrassment. Fritha sighed, sheathing her sword and casting about her, her eyes catching on the rough brown tunic she was looking for, the boy crouched behind a stalagmite on the edge of their circle watching them with a fearful awe. She tried a smile, dimming her light to spare his eyes as she approached and greeted him in common.

'Hello, are you all right down there?'

He nodded quickly, clearing deeming them friendly and stepping from his cover to gaze about at them all with a boyish awe that reminded her of dear Luss. 'Oh yes, thanks to your help. You-You are from the light? I have not seen your tone before.'

Jaheira frowned. 'You are young; what are you doing out here alone?'

The boy hung his head, ashamed to admit it as he confessed, 'My name is Bedlen. I was just playing with my friends. We dare each other to go further and further out beyond the bounds of the village. We know we are not supposed to, but the granitehome is so quiet at the moment and we were bored. The drow do not usually come so far from their city, but they caught me and my friends fled.' His face brightened, seeing some way to repay their aid. 'My village is not far; I can take you, if you wish.'

'There is a village nearby?' confirmed Valygar, 'It is not marked on our map.'

Bedlen shook his head. 'No. I believe the elders forged a deal with the duergar to keep it off. Though the drow already know of our granitehome, we, at least, can avoid other troubles. But my village will welcome you, surfacers, and it would be a safe place for you to rest and tend to your friend.'

Fritha glanced about them all. There did not appear to be any dissent. She turned back to Bedlen who was practically hopping from foot to foot in his eagerness to help.

'Lead the way, then.'

The boy led them northward, the way becoming steeper as they went and much more interesting, the stone about them decorated in patterns of glowing lichen, deep black pools of water collected drop by drop from the roof above, so still their surfaces were as polished obsidian under the lights and, to Imoen's delight, through a grove of bright pink mushrooms that looked like they could have been cultivated to grow there. And the first signs of civilisation were becoming apparent too, Bedlen tripping merrily over a narrow rope bridge that spanned the ravine in their path, the chasm too deep and dark to see the bottom, but Fritha finally found the source of that roaring water.

They walked for just under an hour before they reached a rock face, the young gnome turning west, skirting the edge for another half mile or so to bring them to where some ancient fault or earthtremour had caused the cliff to shift, the rocks pushed back in wide shelves making natural steps in the rock. And, at last, they ascended onto a rocky plateau, a tunnel opening in the cliff face before them, little over seven foot high and barred by two large gates of softly glowing metal.

Warded, concluded Fritha.

Several gnomes were standing before the entrance, an older gnome of dark brown skin seemingly arguing with the four guards, when a cry alerted all to their arrival, Belden racing forward to meet the men.

'Guin! Guin!'

The old gnome's look of relief needed no translation as he knelt to sweep the child into a fierce embrace. 'Bedlen! Bedlen, fien muk! And who are these with you?' he continued in common, adding his wary gaze to the ones already being sent to them by the guards.

'Surfacers, father. They saved me from the drow.'

The gnome sighed and shook his head. 'Foolish boy, their risk would have not been needed had you not crept from the village. Learn from this.' Bedlen nodded gravely and dipped his face as he felt the shame of his lesson, his father continuing to them, 'Well met, friends, you are most welcome here. I am Therndle. Can I be asking why you are coming into the lands below?'

'We seek two that passed by here,' offered Jaheira, 'surfacers like us.'

Therndle frowned, a gnarled, calloused hand rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

'Two surfacers? Yes, we know of this. I saw them not, though word has it they were headed for the drow city of Ust Natha far to the east of here. Hmm, speak to Goldander Blackenrock, the lord of this granitehome -he may be able to aid you.' He turned to guards behind him. 'Admit these good people, I will vouch for them while they are here.'

The guards parted, albeit reluctantly, Therndle leading them through the stone hallways deeper into the labyrinth, their settlement tunnelled back and hewn from the very cliff itself, torches of cold blue flame bracketed to the walls every few yards and giving the stone an icy tint. Many guards seemed to be stationed there, their guide exchanging words with them, now and then, seemingly getting directions before he, at last, halted before a large stone archway, the room beyond much larger than others they had passed.

'And here I will leave you. Speak to our lord; I hope he can aid you. My thanks, surfacers.'

The walls were rough and uneven there, unmarked by pick or hammer and, at first, Fritha thought they were in some large cavern. The gnome lord was standing at the far side and it was only as they closed to him and their lights did nothing to lift the darkness before him that Fritha realised they were not inside at all, but high on a cliff overlooking the stretch of the Underdark they had just passed through. The small, stout gnome was staring out into darkness, his bald olive-skinned head wrinkled like a walnut shell and bowed in his own private sorrow, and Fritha wished more than anything she had his eyes, if only to see such a view.

Troubled though Goldander clearly was, he listened attentively as they explained what had brought them there. In fact, his mood definitely showed signs of improvement towards the end; Fritha was getting that sinking feeling.

'I can help you in this,' he answered finally, 'or help you to one who could aid you, at least, but-'

Fritha laughed dryly. 'Oh, there's always a _but_.'

The gnome did not look remotely embarrassed, though he did bow his head in apology.

'Forgive me, but too much svirfneblin blood has been spilt on this already. You see our village is quite empty at the moment, save for the guards and some of their families. I was forced to send most of my people to deeper climes far from here. We recently opened a new mine shaft, rich in minerals, but alas we mined too deep and awoke something trapped and sleeping within the rock. It killed the miners before we had even realised what had happened. We trapped it in the mineshaft, but that will not hold it forever. Kill it and I shall help you as I can.'

'Something?' repeated Imoen, 'What do you mean by _something?_'

Goldander shook his head. 'I do not know what you would call it. It is a creature of nightmare and darkest shadow.'

The girl rolled her eyes. 'Yes, let's save the melodrama and how about you give us something useful, like its colour or how many arms it's got.'

'Or how big its teeth are,' snorted Fritha, 'Come on, it's going to be a demon. It's _always_ a demon. Just show us the way, Goldander.'

xxx

The fight was brutal. It was just as Fritha had predicted, but, even then, nothing could have really prepared them for such a sight, the fiery red creature filling the small chamber the gnomes had trapped it within, walls scorched from its attempts to destroy its prison. It fought as they, with blade and magic both, the air thick with dust and smoke as stray spells hit the walls in clouds of fire and white-hot shards, its claws ripping through the air, seeking flesh, wings and tail thrashing madly. They kept it surrounded, constantly keeping the creature moving and changing its focus as they took what hits they could get. It was a long, drawn-out kill that left them all blood-splattered and battered, Minsc's leg wound torn open once more, while Imoen was sporting a sprained wrist and Valygar bore a burn that covered almost his entire arm, Jaheira busy covering it in salve as the others gathered themselves, the huge mound of red corpse still twitching behind them.

The gnome lord greeted their return with great enthusiasm. 'You have returned alive! The creature is dead?'

Fritha snorted. 'Well, this blood isn't all mine.'

'Ah, I am pleased beyond measure.'

'So you'll help us now, then?' pressed Imoen, the gnome lord nodding eagerly.

'Oh, yes, tomorrow I will have our guides lead you to her, the one who may be able to aid you.'

Imoen sighed bitterly. 'All this for someone who _might_ be able to help.'

'You said _her_,' confirmed Aerie _very_ politely, as though to mask her companion's petulance, 'Who is it we are actually going to meet?'

'She is called Adalon by choice, though 'my lady' will serve just as well.'

'Her and Anomen'll get along great then,' laughed Imoen. The knight in question merely frowned.

'We set out tomorrow then,' agreed Jaheira, 'What of tonight?'

Goldander beamed. 'Tonight you are our honoured guests.'

Honoured they may have been, but, harried as they were, the gnomes' hospitality stretched to little more than a room and some food. Perhaps the deep gnomes had not the same cares for privacy as others, or perhaps needs must in times of peril, but the group were given use of a large room that was likely a dormitory from the number of beds crammed in there, a svirfneblin female setting out a selection of pickled mushroom and dried meats on the small table in the corner, while another two brought between them a vat of water. It was no larger than a washtub, though it would have probably served the gnomes quite well as a bath, Fritha heating the cold water with a look, and there was little more to be done, Jaheira and Valygar just stringing a rope along the room and hanging a sheet over it, allowing them to wash and change with at least some semblance of privacy.

Anomen raked soaped hands up through his hair. It was strange, standing there with the men, washing and all the while listening to the girls on other side, the perfunctory requests for water or soap interspersed with Imoen's wild giggling as Fritha promised, more than once, to throttle her if she made good on her threats to pull down the sheet.

Fritha was just on the other side of that thin white barrier; Anomen could see her bare feet in the gap left beneath, and he imagined her in the fine white slip she wore to sleep in, looking pale and slight as she tried to wipe the worst of the blood from her hair with a wet cloth. Anomen stooped to scoop some water into his cup, leaning over their half of the washtub as he rinsed the soap from his own hair.

He did not feel guilty for what he had said –not anymore, anyway- a quiet talk with Jaheira finally alleviating him of the feeling. The druid was right: what he has said had been unfortunate, both in words and timing, but it had been done in shock, not malice, and it had been nothing unforgivable -it was just that Fritha was no longer able to forgive him. He missed her. In a way, her temper had been easier to bear than now, when, outside of the occasional snide comment, she just treated him the same as everyone else. Something he knew others were suffering too, he considered as he recalled Imoen's hurt look from the previous day, though the girl's ongoing grudge against him was making it difficult to sympathise.

Their washing done with, the sheet was taken down and tub of ruddy water set outside, everyone settling upon beds that were far too small for them, the men and Jaheira having to push a few together, as they took food and some much-needed rest. Imoen was knelt upon a pillow, trying to brush the last of the salt from her clothes, Haer'Dalis already reclined upon a bed reading, Aerie seated next to him searching her bag for something with a frown. Valygar was frowning too –his bow string had not been the same since its soaking, Minsc offering him his spare one with his usual good humour.

'I was sure it was in here,' Aerie sighed, her voice muffled by the depths of her pack.

'What have you lost?' asked Imoen.

'My hairbrush. I was so sure it was with the rest of my things when we were back in the sahuagin temple.'

'And you've only looked for it now?' Imoen pulled a face. 'Your hair is going to be well knotted.'

Aerie flushed, though Haer'Dalis bore the brunt of her temper as he admitted, 'Oh, I am sorry, Aerie, I borrowed it this morning –it is in my pack.'

'Haer'Dalis! You could have told me! I've been looking for it for ages!'

Imoen was giggling, the girl rooting in her own bag to toss her a small bottle of clear oil. 'Here, when he does return it, use that; it'll help with the knots- ah, cheers,' she cut in, as Jaheira handed her a plate.

Fritha let their noise drift over her, idle and pleasantly mundane, like the twitter of birds, all her focus on her sword as she used a rag and the alcohol Finnis had gifted her to clean the putrid black blood from the metal. A shadow fell across her, stealing the shine from her blade. Fritha glanced up. It was Anomen, the man holding a plate of food, though he was distracted at the moment by the boots she had pulled off to dump at the end of her bed, still baring the delicate whites tides of salt from their swim. She knew well enough Helm's dogma: that kit should always be clean and in good repair –she had once seen the benefit of it too. But it hardly mattered to her now; indeed, so little did. Fritha went back to her sword, taking the last of the blood from it and picking up the next rag she had already prepared to protect it with a fine film of oil, the blade one of the few things left she actually cared about.

'Here, Fritha,' the man before her said finally, 'I brought you something to eat.'

She nodded to the floor at her feet. 'Thank you.'

Anomen sighed, stooping to set it on the smooth stone and, after an uncertain pause, sitting down at her side.

'I have never seen you put so much care into your weapon before.'

'No,' she admitted, no halt to her work, 'I liked my sword before, but only for what it was, a link to a place and people lost to me. But now… It is my edge, my tongue, my partner in dance… When I fight now it feels like music through my body.'

She sighed, for a moment lost in that fleeting feeling of harmony, a hand absently lifting the bottle at her side for a quick sip. Anomen was frowning.

'Fritha, should you be drinking that?'

The girl shrugged, lacking the energy even to tell him to mind his own business.

'Well, I asked to borrow Jaheira's ether, but she said no.' Fritha smiled and took another mouthful. 'Just a bit of something to take the edge off.'

Anomen sent her a sad look. 'There was a time when you liked the edges.'

'There _was_ a time when they weren't so sharp. Do not test my patience, Anomen, it is in limited supply and I am trying to save it up for when I really need it. There,' she sighed, giving the blade one last wipe and easing it back into its scabbard, the girl shifting further up the bed and leaning back against the headboard for long draft of rum which left her coughing. Jaheira's head whipped to the sound. She did not look pleased.

'So, you are drinking again.'

Fritha was in no mood for her censure.

'Very astute, Jaheira –I can see why the Harpers were sorry to lose you.'

'Fritha!' gasped the elf opposite, Imoen jumping quick to her defence.

'Oh, don't start, Aerie. Gods, the way you and Jaheira go on, it's like you're her bloody parents.'

'Well, perhaps _that_ is what she needs,' offered Jaheira crossly, her eyes dark as they returned to Fritha, 'you've been acting like a spoilt child for days now!'

Fritha just laughed. 'So? Do you think to shame me into toeing your line, because I'm _well_ beyond that, Jaheira.'

At her side, Anomen sighed. 'Fritha, we do not mean to judge you, we are just concerned-'

'Don't touch me!' she snapped, the man snatching his hand back from her foot as though she burnt. 'You long ago lost the right. Now listen to me, all of you: I am dying and if, when the world has paused to catch its breath in its endless efforts to kill me, I want to have a drink, then I will.'

'So you would rather find your comfort in the bottle, than us?' cried Aerie, 'Is it pride or shame? Or is this your warped way of trying to protect us?'

'_No, no_, _no,_' murmured Imoen warily.

'Fritha, we are your friends, we want to help you!'

Fritha was looking as though a monumental effort was going into not to losing her temper. 'Well, what will help me most right now, is for you all to go back to what you were doing and let me have some peace.'

Surprisingly, it was Valygar who was shaking his head.

'That you refuse to even hear their concerns is the worst sign. As leader, your decisions should be impartial, but your behaviour of late has been impulsive and short-sighted.'

'And as a man who murdered his own parents, you'd be well qualified to judge.'

'Fritha!'

'Now, draw it mild, my raven,' soothed Haer'Dalis, 'We do not deserve your ire -but neither do you deserve ours.' He turned to those about him. 'The raven has told us what she needs and we should respect her decision.'

'Hear, hear,' laughed Fritha, raising her bottle in toast to him as she went back to her rum, seemingly thinking that an end to that matter. Aerie, though, was not in agreement.

'Haer'Dalis, how can you say that?'

Imoen snorted. 'Er, maybe because he is actually _listening_ to Fritha, rather than telling her how she should feel.'

'I am trying to save her from herself!'

'Oh, of course, Aerie knows best –you'll have to bear with me, I'm not used to having two Jaheiras in the group.'

'At least, Jaheira and I are trying to help her! I have seen you -you would take Fritha's side in anything if you thought it would close the distance between you. Well, sometimes being a friend means having to stand up and say when something is wrong.'

'Yeah, I expect you'd be good at that. What is it, Aerie? Do you want to see Fritha humbled that badly? I know she nearly stole your boyfriend.'

'Imoen!'

Aerie was pink in her anger. 'I just want Fritha to trust us as we once trusted her! You have no idea of what she would have led us into, what she had us do to get you back! Vampires; thieves; we broke the law countless times, but we always stood by her! Never once did we turn our backs on her-'

Across the room, Fritha gave a cough that sounded suspiciously like _'Harpers'_. Jaheira coloured and so did Minsc.

'Fritha, Boo says that was _very_ unkind!'

Fritha's eyes flashed.

'Oh, yes? Well, Boo, tell that halfwit you're sat on to _keep out of it!_ Listen to you all,' She cried, almost delighting in their dismay, 'so sure of what I need and what I should do, when you're all just as broken as I am! Aerie's _petrified_ she's going to die down here, I've got Anomen following me about like a kicked _dog_,' she threw a hand to the woman opposite, 'and _you're_ just cross because you're worrying that perhaps Dermin was right all along! Enough,' Fritha snapped, springing from her bed, the bottle still in hand, 'I will argue about this no more.'

She was halfway down the corridor before Imoen caught her, the girl having to jog to keep up even as she pleaded with her.

'Fritha-'

'Go back inside, Imoen.'

'Fritha, wait!' she snapped, grabbing her arm to finally wrench her around, Imoen's face stark white and pained in the torchlight. 'Fritha, I'm on your side.'

Fritha gave a hopeless laugh. 'Oh, it's a bit late for that, Imoen.'

'What?'

'How long were you in that asylum? Four months, as you were so quick to point out. A thief and a mage both and you _still_ could not get yourself out of there. No, as usual, you had to wait for _me_ to come fetch you!'

Imoen stumbled back, the words hitting her like a slap.

'You- you _spiteful cow!_ My skills were good enough when they were picking the lock to your cage!'

'Yes, Imoen, _my_ cage! He let you wander about free as a bird, didn't he? How awful it must have been for you to just stand there and watch as he tortured me! As he cut and burnt and tore-!'

'_Stop it! Stop it! STOP IT!_'

Fritha was breathing heavily, her voice low. 'So don't even begin to think we're even, Imoen, that we're the same now, because we aren't and we _never_ will be.'

And she left her weeping in that gloomy stone corridor.

**...**

It was very late when Fritha finally staggered back to the room and all were asleep, the low growl of snores punctuated by Imoen's moans as she tossed and thrashed in that small bed. Fritha probably would have spared her a thought, had she not been so occupied trying to walk in a straight line, her legs wobbling under her, and she was almost at her bed when her feet tripped on something. She just caught the frame in time to stop herself, hissing a curse as she hit her knee in the process. A moment to regain her balance and she was feeling down to the floor to find the trap, the rich smell of beeswax filling her nostrils before her hand had even closed upon the leather. Her boots. He'd polished them for her, and, for a moment, Fritha wanted nothing more than to hurl them viciously at Anomen's sleeping form.

_Why_ could he not just leave her be? Why couldn't they _all_ just leave her be?

The anger died as soon as it came, though –it was hard to hold onto, drunk as she was, and Fritha just gave up, collapsing fully clothed on the bed to enjoy a meagre few hours of oblivion.

xxx

Fritha awoke early. Well, at least, she assumed it was. Everyone around her was still sleeping, the wide, hewn tunnels of the settlement deserted as she left their room, though she did not pay too much attention: it hurt to look at things. Not that shutting her eyes gave any relief, merely giving her body the chance to focus all its attention upon the pain in her head, deep and constant, and she felt she could almost see it, a bright white knife behind her eyes. She made her way through the tunnels by short, shuffling steps, her blankets still wrapped about her haphazardly and following in a train like some bedraggled Kara-Turan princess.

She walked all the way to the outcrop where they had spoken with Goldander the day before, instantly releasing the many blankets to pool about her bare feet as she reached the edge. And there she stood, staring out into the impassable blackness of the Underdark, the cliff that fell away at her feet soon lost to her eyes and the idea she did not even know how high up she stood was dizzying, her whole chest wracked with a sharp stabbing pain as she suddenly retched.

The shakes were bad that morning. With trembling fingers, she rooted through her bag to find the bottle of spirits that had been her only friend the night before. She gargled the first mouthful, spitting it out with the sick. The second she drank though, fighting the urge to retch again as she swallowed -spirits that would have once left her throat raw, now as smooth as water, if not quite as soothing.

And that was it.

Fritha replaced the cork with a certain finality, gazing down at the bottle of thick clear glass, just a monochrome outline in the darkness of that place, its weight shifting with the liquid still left within it. Her arm was drawn back without another thought and she almost overbalanced, the girl still uncertain on her legs and staggering back from the precipice as she launched the bottle in the darkness with all her might.

No more drinking -it did nothing anyway. She stared out into darkness before her and the many challenges it held that were yet to be faced. It would take much to get them all through there alive…

Fritha felt a certain resolve tighten every muscle. _She_ would be enough.

And she dropped to her knees where she stood, gathering the blankets back about her shoulders as she lay down at the cliff's edge and slowly returned to sleep.

**…**

'So you're out here.'

Fritha opened her eyes instantly, though the image they showed her did not clear for a good few moments, the blurred outline of a familiar figure slowly approaching, her long narrow frame haloed by the distant lights of the settlement.

'Jaheira,' she greeted hoarsely, sending her a smile as she half sat to notice the dark stains under her eyes. 'You look tired.'

The druid sighed. 'Imoen suffered many nightmares last night; _we_ were awake for much of it.'

A slight emphasis to remind Fritha of her selfish, self-imposed exclusion, but she hardly cared; she had managed to avoid Imoen's hysterics, after all. Fritha smiled and shook her head, feeling amused and vaguely fond of the girl that such petty things were affecting her –how nice to still be so green, so weak.

'Ah, bless her, the goose; they're just dreams, she'll get used to them.'

Jaheira looked appalled at her good-humour. 'Just dreams? The girl is distraught!'

Fritha's anger flared with the predictable immediacy.

'Oh, boo hoo, _poor_ Imoen. I've been having them since we left Candlekeep and I don't recall anyone else being particularly arsed about them then.'

The woman above narrowed her eyes, staring down at her as though she had just discovered something wholly unexpected and quite repulsive.

'She is your oldest friend! There was a time you have done _anything_ to see her spared from what you have suffered. Where is your compassion, Fritha?'

Fritha knew it was an insult and a rhetorical one at that, but it did not feel like it and she attempted to answer anyway, almost curious herself.

'I don't know. I wonder if I ever had it. Whether all these things weren't lingering inside me anyway, and I just pretended to be nice and care. I don't know, I can't remember how I felt; it's fading, it's all fading… all I know is how I feel now… which is hungover, in case you were wondering.'

Jaheira snorted angrily, turning to walk back to the settlement. 'And whose fault is _that_?'

Fritha fell back onto her blankets, laughing into the blackness above her.

'Oh, Jaheira, where is your _compassion?_'

xxx

Oh, to see the sky. To feel a breeze that carried the scent of trees and rain. To hear birds and insects, instead of the dull rasp of feet on stone as they walked ever onwards. Jaheira sighed tiredly, though it was more a weariness of the spirit than the body. They had set out late that morning with their two gnome guides, Goldander gifting them with maps and other equipment before sending them on their way.

The journey had been difficult, but so more by their own limitations than their path. As their guides had gravely informed them, there would be increased numbers of drow patrols as they closed upon their city, and so they had decided to take a longer route to avoid the worst of them. But even so, they could not evade them completely, the gnomes or sometimes Fritha bringing them to a halt as they heard something unfamiliar, their lights out in an instant, one gnome scouting ahead to find the source while the other led them to cover. And there they would stay, pressed together in the darkness until it was, at last, deemed safe to move.

And consequently, six hours later and they were still walking. Their journey had taken them far across the Underdark, through narrow ravines and vast caverns and even across a great underground lake, white bodied salamanders fleeing from their lights as the men hauled them across on the waiting ferryboat, the ropes creaking with every heave and clearly worrying their guides -and perhaps with good reason, for both had admitted they could not swim.

They were nearly there now though, according to the gnomes, the way becoming steep and rocky as they led them through a forest of stalagmites. Jaheira's stride faltered as the girl just before skidded on the stony ground, the druid throwing out an arm to catch her though it was not needed in the end, Imoen regaining her own balance almost instantly.

'Imoen?'

'It's nothing,' the girl murmured, dropping back a pace to walk at her side as they continued on, 'I'm just tired –not that I need to tell _you_ that.'

The girl dipped her head and, though it was hard to be sure in the green of her werelight, Jaheira thought she saw her blush. Imoen's dreams were getting worse by the night, and the fact she was keeping the majority of them awake as well as herself, was clearly embarrassing for her.

'No one holds you responsible,' Jaheira assured her, but the girl just shrugged.

'Yeah, but it's not just that, is it?'

Jaheira sighed inwardly. No, it was not. Imoen and Aerie had slipped into a corner that morning to share a quiet exchange of apologies –the elf had likely not even needed one, Imoen's re-appearance the night before, tear-streaked and broken, eliciting the usual sympathy from Aerie's gentle heart.

And, fortunately for some of them, Imoen was just as forgiving. Fritha had said nothing to the rest of them that morning once she had returned, but Jaheira had not failed to notice the girl take Imoen out into the corridor. She did not know what had passed between them, either the night before, or then, but the reconciliation had ended in a soft embrace, and that alone had quelled the druid's fears -for the moment, at least.

Jaheira glanced ahead to the girl herself, leading the way with their two guides, looking stern and cold in the pale blue of her werelight. Jaheira wished she could somehow get through to Fritha, but every attempt seemed to end in crossed-words. Perhaps she should just follow Haer'Dalis's example and let her do as she pleased. But, though easier it would have been, it was too much to just stand by and watch as the girl destroyed herself.

Imoen noticed Jaheira watching to send her a sympathetic smile.

'She doesn't mean what she says, you know? She told me, this morning… She wants to be understanding, to lead you all as she used to, but her instinct for it is gone and she just can't remember how anymore.' Imoen dipped her head. 'I'm starting to forget, too, aren't I? I never used to feel like this, so angry and spiteful. I'm not losing myself to an avatar, but I am losing myself all the same… I want to sit down and try to remember who I was before this, before Irenicus and everything, but I'm just so tired.'

Jaheira felt her fists clench, fighting the urge to just embrace her where she stood.

'You are still there, Imoen, inside. Do not worry; we will get your soul back and then you will know it as well as I.'

'And we are arrived,' came one of the gnomes at their head, Jaheira and Imoen halting with the others before a very solid looking cliff face. Fritha was frowning, laying a hand on the rock that seemed solid enough.

'What, _here?_'

'Ah, yes, surfacer, the illusion is strong, is it not, fooling the eyes and even hands of surfacers and drow alike. But we gnomes are of the granite and we know when not all is as it should be.'

The gentlest of taps with the glowing silver pick in his hand and the wall before them faded away to leave a yawning hole, so large Jaheira could barely see the roof, roughly carved steps leading down in to the darkness. The gnomes smiled and bowed in unison.

'There is your path and here we leave you. I hope the lady will hear you and help your cause.'

Fritha led the way, light aloft and sword sheathed, clearly trusting the gnomes' assurance that their contact was of good nature despite her unusual dwelling. Deeper they descended and Jaheira was just beginning to wonder what existed _beneath_ the Underdark when the steps ended, the group walking forward into a vast natural cavern, their meagre werelights rendered pointless by the creature stood before them, her glowing scales casting all in a shimmering silver.

Imoen's delight educed more than one smile. 'Well, I'll be jiggered! She's only a bloody dragon!'

Jaheira shook her head, the girl's worries that she was losing herself seemingly unnecessary. This dragon was slimmer than Firkraag had been, and longer too, the creature padding forward on large clawed feet to stand before them.

'Welcome to my lair, surfacers. I have watched your progress with great interest.'

Along their line, Jaheira sent Fritha a _very_ stern look, relief swelling in her stomach as the girl stepped forward and dipped polite bow.

'My lady, you honour us with your words.'

Adalon gazed down at her bowed head, coolly appraising. 'I am sure I do, but flattery is not why I have allowed you to come here.'

Fritha was already scowling, the lines of her jaw set and the druid bit back a sigh. Why did they never make it easy? The dragon either did not know or did not care she had just guaranteed Jaheira's day was now to be at least as twice as stressful as it had needed to be, Adalon's tone no warmer than her manner as she continued.

'I am Adalon, the guardian. For centuries, I have guarded the nearby path to the surface, to the elven city of Sundenessellar and the temple ruins which mark where those elves with dark hearts first made their descent and became the drow. The drow keep a city a mile or so to the east of here, Ust Natha, though for centuries they respected the borders of this place, only venturing up to the surface for sport and small skirmishes: this was the balance I upheld. But recently a crime was committed and I can no longer honour my duty.' Her great golden eyes swivelled back to rest on Fritha, 'I already know of you and your goal, godchild. You will aid me and I will aid you.'

'We will do all we can, my la-'

'Silence!' Adalon boomed, 'This is a vital matter and I will not be interrupted!'

Fritha was instantly furious. 'Vital, is it? Well, what would I know of that? I've only lost my _fucking_ _soul!_'

'Fritha!' barked Jaheira, though she rather felt the dragon had deserved her temper, and perhaps a part of Adalon felt the same, her voice quieter and grave with a muted sorrow as she confessed, 'Irenicus's crimes did not end there, godchild. He violated my lair and stole my eggs. He has taken them with him into the drow city; to venture from here will mean their destruction.'

An anxious muttering at this grim news, though only Anomen voiced their thoughts.

'Irenicus has opened the path to war.'

The dragon nodded slowly. 'Indeed, he has. I cannot prevent the drow from walking to the surface as one, while they still hold my eggs as hostage. Even now, they amass armies for the attack. And so your task: you will return my eggs to me and in doing so I will give you access to their city and the two you seek.'

Fritha did not ask how or why, she merely nodded.

The transformation was gradual at first, hardly noticeable in the gloom of that place, until Jaheira glanced down to her hands and found the shadows were running deeper still, skin darkening as her fingers lengthened. She glanced up, casting about her, more than a few uttering cries of alarm as the faces with which she was so familiar changed before her eyes, skin growing darker as hair faded and frames shrank, their armour, clothes and weapons changing too, until she scarcely recognised any one of them.

'There, it is done,' said Adalon, 'You are as drow and you will assume the identities of a group from another city, Ched Nasad, who were destined for Ust Natha and who I dispatched a few days ago.'

'So do we look like them now, then?' asked Imoen.

The dragon shook her head shortly. 'No. To be frank, I paid little attention to their appearance as I killed them and all you races look alike to me anyway. But it is not important; you are known to none of that city. As I understand it from letters I found on her person, your leader, Veldrin, led you in betraying your own House in a bold grasp at power which failed. But she had already secured an escape route for such an occasion: refuge in return for service for one of Ust Natha's most prominent houses, Despana. Your contact in the city is the eldest daughter of that house, Phaere.' Adalon turned to Fritha once again, and Jaheira wondered if she imagined the subtle hint of a smile. 'The Veldrin I killed was ruthless and determined; I trust you will maintain that illusion.'

Fritha's smile, on the other hand, was anything but subtle.

'I'll do my best.'

The dragon nodded, drawing back to address them all as a group as she continued, 'Know this, though I cannot leave enter the city, my eyes see far beyond this cavern's walls. Any sign of treachery and I will know. If you endanger my eggs, if you attempt to leave the Underdark before delivering them back to me the illusion will cease. And do not think you could escape to the surface now I may no longer leave my lair. The path is guarded by the drow as they prepare for war; you would be slaughtered.'

Imoen sighed, the warning clearly disappointing her. 'We would have helped you whatever, you know.'

Adalon snorted, the puff of smoke curling in the still air. 'So you say, but I have lost trust in your kind recently. Now go.'

And with that she turned, the cavern about them growing dim as Adalon slunk away, retreating into darkness of her lair and leaving them there to gaze about at each other. Fritha watched the dragon until even the pale glow of her tail had long faded, the girl turning back to find the others behind her examining their new forms with a mix of fear and wonder. It was strange looking round at them all, some almost familiar, others strangers to her, though their manners gave each away.

A moment to crouch, and she was drawing her old bronze mirror from her bag, Fritha pleased to still be able to see a glimmer of the face she knew behind the dark skin and pale yellow eyes. Imoen was obvious too, in that she was the only girl among them Fritha didn't recognise and the first to demand the mirror.

'Well,' her friend began critically, blue eyes still examining her new face from every angle, hair still shorter than most girls', her free hand drawing it back in a snowy white ponytail, 'apart from my hair colour, I rather like the change.'

Jaheira was already at the girl's elbow ready to take the mirror from her, the woman staring at her reflection, too stunned, it seemed, even for her customary frown as she moved a finger up to touch her own cheek.

'This feels very odd.'

'Odd?' came a shrill cry but a step from her, Aerie stood there, the same in every way barring her colouring: dark skin, white hair and vivid pink eyes, her own mirror clutched in her trembling hand. 'This- this is _horrible!_'

'How can you say that?' laughed Imoen kindly, 'You look practically the same!'

'Exactly! It is my face and yet it's not. And my eyes!'

'Oh, no, now they're the best bit! You remind me of a pet rabbit I had back in Candlekeep.'

Aerie laughed tentatively and it seemed to calm her, the man next to her stepping closer to place an arm about her shoulders.

'Come now, Aerie, all will be well.'

'Gods, is that you, Haer'Dalis?' laughed Imoen, skipping forward to eagerly proffer him the mirror. 'Look at you!'

'Well, it is not the pleasing plumage to which I am used,' he conceded with his usual modesty, sharply handsome face frowning in concentration as he preened at his now tousled mop of pure white hair, 'but this sparrow cannot complain.'

'I do not know how you can all accept this- this abomination so readily!' cried another of their men, now much shorter and slight, his long silvery hair falling across his face as he stared at down at his new form with angry disgust.

'Anomen,' concluded Imoen firmly. Behind her, another of the men was nodding his agreement.

'To think my own body has been imbued with such fell magics.'

'And Valygar,' sighed Fritha.

And that left only one of them, Fritha turning to the man who had remained silent so far, his white hair neatly cropped and spiky, Minsc looking down at himself, bewildered. Jaheira sent him a reassuring smile.

'So, how do you like being short, Minsc?'

'It is very strange, though Boo tells me I will get used to it.'

'I shall never grow accustomed to this,' sighed Anomen crossly.

'I think it rather suits you,' said Fritha airily, turning back to the girls and leaving him to infer from that what he wished. 'All right then, names, names. Let's keep things simple shall we? That's Yaeve, Haliue, Eolith,' she reeled off, pointing to Jaheira, Imoen and Aerie each in turn. 'And now the boys: Valygar, you can be Nydren. Minsc, you are now Ilmyn. Haer'Dalis is Osfein and you can be…' she paused at Anomen, considering his long silvery hair with the slightest of smiles, 'Tann.'

'Where did you learn drow names?' asked Imoen.

'From a book of tales about the Illythiiri I read back in Candlekeep,' Fritha answered absently as she packed away her mirror, 'It had some _very_ interesting woodcuts.'

Imoen gave a great 'Ha!' of laughter that was a pleasure to hear and Jaheira smiled as she watched the girl move off to torment Valygar with offers to rebraid his now shoulder-length pale tresses, he and Anomen struggling to tie back their hair. At her side, Fritha removed her own hairpins and shook out the feathery white mane, straight and as light as thistledown, the girl finally rising to re-shoulder her pack and send Imoen a fond look.

'Look at her: taking it all in her stride.'

'And she is not alone,' offered Jaheira, 'Your own spirits seem much improved by this.'

Fritha grinned; the gesture looked predatory on that dark angular face.

'Well, you know what they say: a change is as good as a rest-day. Right, you lot, let's go.'

But Aerie was not quite prepared yet, it seemed, the elf hurrying to halt her as they made to set out.

'But- but, Fritha-' A glanced revised things. 'I mean, Veldrin, please, I-I don't think I can do this.'

'Of course, you can, Eolith,' Fritha assured her, giving her arm what was likely supposed to be a heartening slap. 'Now, come on.'

'No, Fritha, please, you- you don't understand. I was brought up on stories of the drow, terrible stories. To be here, to have faced them was bad enough, but to walk among them in their city- I- I can't, they hunt my people for sport!'

Fritha clucked her tongue gently. 'There now, Aerie, don't take it so personally; the drow hunt _everyone_ for sport -and I doubt they would even count you as an avariel anymore now.'

Aerie was mute in her shock, though others were not so afflicted.

'Fritha!' cried Jaheira and Anomen together, Haer'Dalis adding angrily, 'My raven, really! That you could say such a thing!'

Fritha drew back, temper flaring as she turned on her heel. 'Oh, fine then! Aerie, we're going, so get on with it. Now, come on!'

**…**

Jaheira kept tight hold of her staff, the feel of the wood her only comfort now even her body was no longer her own, and though her new eyes saw through the darkness as though a moon hung above them, she still wished she had the familiar green glow of her werelight, foolish though it was.

The city was not far from there, just a half hour's walk through the stalagmites to reach the long wide passage shown on the svirfneblin's map. Even here, the rock was changing, the stone floor polished by design and the passage of feet both, and finally giving way to intricate grey stone tiles that put her in mind of the sahuagin city they had not long ago left. There was a bend in the passage, tall gates slowly swinging into view, the metal twisted into a fine filigree, like the web of some great silver spider. Jaheira suppressed a shiver; though all were children of Nature, she had never been able to find the same affinity for the larger species of spider as she had other creatures.

Fritha's mood lasted all the way to the gates, though it did little more than aid her act, the girl stalking forward to meet the guard who had left his partner at his post, the man's spear already lowered at her stomach as he demanded, 'You there! Identify yourselves!'

'Stand down, male,' Fritha drawled coldly; it seemed he was too lowly for her to even waste her temper on. 'I am Veldrin of Ched Nasad. Let me pass.'

The man's stance changed in an instant, his body straightening respectfully as he raised a hand in salute.

'My apologies. We have been expecting your arrival for a day or more now. Solaufein, the commander of the Male Fighters' Society, has been awaiting you.'

Fritha frowned. 'Solaufein? I understood I was to meet with Phaere of House Despana.'

'That was so, but there has been a complication and we have been instructed you are to meet with Solaufein in her stead. He holds quarters at the society building; you should seek him there.'

'_Should?' _snapped Fritha, 'Do not presume to counsel your _betters_, male! Where is the Male Fighter's Society?'

'To the north of the city, honoured female,' he answered hastily, 'past the spider pits.'

Jaheira just suppressed a wince, Fritha nodding once. 'Good. Now open the gates.'

The city was vast, filling every inch of that equally enormous cavern, the structures built around and seemingly within the huge stalactites and stalagmites that sprouted from the cave itself in a similar way the elven cities of the surface utilised the trees. The rock shimmered with lichens and algae in more colours than she had ever considered; yellows and bronzes right through the spectrum to the iridescent blue-greens of dragonflies.

Platforms and walkways of smooth grey stone were strung between them, all carved with an intricate pattern of webs and railed with metal that stood like teeth or barbs, while clusters of luteous fungi hung glowing from the underside. Any buildings not actually carved from the living rock emulated the style. Huge stone domes that put Jaheira in mind of beehives, were set upon platforms of their own, ornate petals of metal filigree peeling back from the top of each, a nest of twisting tentacles sprouting from within: the shapeless body of some eldritch creature and providing a convenient place to spin a web for the city's many spiders.

There were layers of the city below them, just as there were layers above and Jaheira could see at least other two levels of walkways and platforms before the roof of the cavern hemmed them in –living space was clearly at a premium down there.

It was beautiful and all at once completely alien to all that she knew, and Jaheira could not quell the overwhelming feeling of dread as she stepped from the gateway.

That first circular platform housed a bustling marketplace, Fritha leading them through the stalls of goods and pens of beasts and slaves, though they seemed to be treated very much the same. Jaheira tried not to notice, but it could not be avoided, the slaves crammed into large cages along the edge of the platform, mostly drow captured from other cities or fallen houses, with a few svirfneblin and duergar shoved in with them, a small group of deep gnomes watching a slave just beyond their cage being beaten by his master with downcast black eyes.

Perhaps Fritha could sense the distress of those behind her –maybe she even felt it herself, for she quickened their pace, taking them through commotion of merchants, hawking their wares or making deals with their fellow drow as well as a handful of other races who had been permitted to enter the city, groups of githyanki, illithids, and even a beholder trading in goods from all over the Underdark and well beyond it.

They took the northern walkway from the market, as instructed, but the city was sprawling and Fritha had to ask for directions at least twice, the third and final instance seeing her collaring a gnome slave who was clearly on some other errand, and forcing him to show them the rest of the way, the svirfneblin bobbing nervously before them, clearly wanting them to hurry up lest he incur his owner's wrath and too afraid to tell them for fear of theirs.

And, at last, the building was before them, the Male Fighter's Society a huge stout spire of dusky grey stone that stretched up to serve as support for the walkway above, many oval windows winking upon its surface, their panes divided by scrolling metal frames. A small group of drow males were gathered outside, the tallest of them giving orders to his fellows before dismissing them and he seemed to turn on instinct to meet their approach. Pale grey eyes dominated his face, the long white hair tied back, his features softer and less angled than was usual for his race, though the look of contempt it wore was just the same, the male openly appraising them as they arrived. His expression twisted with a sneering frown.

'So, you are the newcomers who have been sent my way, I see. As if I do not have enough to accomplish in a day, without suffering for the welfare of the _weak_. I do not know what Phaere has told you, but there is no refuge to be had in Ust Natha, fools; we pay for our existence here in blood and you shall do the same -And just because you are female, do not think to challenge me,' he added at Fritha's furious look, 'You are a foreigner here and no better than a slave until the Matron Mothers think otherwise. Now, have you a name, vagrant? Or should I just call you female?'

'My name is Veldrin, and take that tone from your voice when you speak it!'

But the drow merely laughed. 'Ha! I can see already why Phaere thought to favour you. My name is Solaufein and, for now, you shall do as I say to prove your worth to the Matron Mothers. Fortunately for you, your skills will be tested immediately and you will have a chance to earn your place here in blood. You are to meet with a Handmaiden of Lolth tomorrow morning at the city gates, where you will learn more of your task.' He snorted bitterly. 'I shall no doubt be there as well, to herd you along like a nursing mother.'

Fritha smiled, a hand shifting to her hip and putting a certain arrogance into her stance; she looked to be rather enjoying her role.

'Whelps, are we? And yet you must entrust this undertaking to us; are your own warriors not up to the task?'

Solaufein frowned, but did not bite. 'Our warriors are occupied with other preparations, at the moment, and none can be spared. A suite of rooms has been secured for you at the large tavern just west of the marketplace. I will see you again tomorrow; do not be late.'

xxx

Apart from the décor and the regulars, the tavern was little different from the establishments they were more than familiar with on the surface. A large room over three tiers, the lowest one some sort of fighting pit by its look, though it was currently empty, the patrons just seated about the grey stone tables drinking, as slaves moved between them, seemingly trying to pull off the feat of being both attentive and invisible.

Two staircases led from the main room, the slave who was showing them up the left one to their rooms informing them the other led to the lust chambers, where patrons could go to slake their thirst for pleasures other than wine, Fritha just managing to take this in without pulling a face. Their suite was on the topmost floor, six rooms arranged around a small common chamber, a firepit against the back wall and already alive with bright blue flames, while a selection of chairs and cushions were arranged around it, all of the same scrolling metal and deep violet silk, thick rugs of fleece covering the polished stone floor.

Fritha dismissed the slave immediately, a few moments spent quickly checking the room for any means of surveillance, magical or otherwise, Aerie inscribing a glyph of silence on the main door before everyone, at last, seemed to relax slightly, Fritha throwing herself onto the long violet sofa with a pleased grin.

'Well, this could certainly be worse.'

'_How_ exactly?' came Aerie's tart reply.

'Well, they could have just murdered us on sight,' snapped Imoen, perhaps recalling their previous fight as she added more kindly, 'Come on, Aerie, it's not so bad.'

'No, this ruse appears to be holding –for now, at least,' Jaheira added with a pointed glare to the girl opposite. 'You are being too aggressive, Fritha; you will get yourself killed.'

'No, I won't,' the girl laughed, 'tortured maybe, but not killed.'

'That is not funny.'

'_Cyric's tongue_, I know what I'm doing! We are unknown here; everyone is looking at us, waiting to see where we fit in… Utter obedience to superiors; no mercy for peers and lessers, _that_ is the drow way, and I intend to convince as many people as possible, they fit into the _latter_ class.'

'So, where do we go from here?' asked Anomen quietly.

'Lust chambers?' offered Imoen with a burst of laughter.

Fritha smiled, leaning back in her seat with a thoughtful sigh. 'Well, we will need to serve this house we're allied with whilst locating Irenicus…'

'And Adalon's eggs,' reminded Aerie.

'Yes, yes, and the eggs,' Fritha dismissed crossly, 'Perhaps, we'll have the opportunity to split up, or someone down in the tavern may know something –I can imagine any alliance with us lesser races is going to be hard to keep quiet. We'll know more tomorrow once we've completed this task for Solaufein.'

'Yes, the task…' repeated Valygar, letting grave eyes include them all in his words. 'I have been considering what will be asked of us tomorrow and in the coming days. We all know the evils of the drow and the cruelty of their race… How far are we willing to go for this? Torture? Murder? And not just of other drow, but of slaves or gnomes or even fellow surfacers.'

A room of dismayed looks; Aerie gave a moan low in her throat.

'Oh, Baervar spare us…'

'_Do not speak His name here!_' Fritha snarled, the girl looking livid as her gaze snapped back to Valygar. 'Gods_ help _me! It would have been a lot more helpful if you'd had this attack of conscience _before_ we agreed to Adalon's plan! We're here now and this charade must be maintained no matter what -anyone who thinks they are going to have a problem, can just stay here! I'll do this all myself if I have to!'

Fritha sighed, shaking her head at the strangers that surrounded her, their faces as unfamiliar to her as their hearts. 'Really, I don't understand your problem. There is a slave trade in Athkatla. There is a Thieves' Guild too, and the Cowled Wizards are practically a law unto themselves. There is corruption and decadence and appalling acts of cruelty. In fact, the only difference between Ust Natha and Athkatla that I can see, is that people are just open about life here. If anything, the drow are just honest.'

Anomen met her gaze firmly, the first time in days he had dared –Oh, what a time to grow a backbone!

'Athkatla is a _world_ away from this place.'

Fritha laughed bitterly. 'Oh, whatever helps you sleep at night -speaking of which, I'm going to bed.'

xxx

Their chambers were no less lavish than the common room, spacious circler rooms, each appointed with a large leaf-shaped bed as well as tables and chairs of their own, mirrors of polished obsidian and, much to Imoen's relief, a deep stone bath –the girl had apparently not been given the chance for a _proper_ wash from since before she had been taken. There were only six rooms to their eight, though it was hardly any inconvenience to Aerie; she and Haer'Dalis had been sharing since his return.

Aerie pulled off the dark blue robes her yellow dress had now become, the slip underneath grey and made from a soft fluid material that shimmered dully in the glow of the pale crystals that served as lamps, a large cluster of them hanging above the bed. Aerie stared down at her own arm, thin and dark like a stick of polished ebony and she could not help but touch it, each time surprised to feel the press of fingers that confirmed it was indeed a part of her. Stranger still was looking to the man on the other side of the bed, Haer'Dalis busy pulling a dark grey tunic over his head, his small body tightly packed and far more muscular than it had been. The man sent her a smile as he noticed her watching, Aerie doing her best to return it and she was glad when the lamps were dimmed and they finally got into bed. It was nice to lie back next to him and close her eyes, that alien room gone, replaced by the familiar sensation of his arms about her and, in the darkness, Aerie, at last, felt she could voice her thoughts.

'So, we are here… in the Underdark.'

The arm about her tightened for a brief, reassuring moment.

'That we are, my love. A city under the sea, and now one under the ground: to think I would return to Sigil with such memories.'

'You sound pleased,' she sighed, turning to lay her face against his chest, his hand idly playing with her hair.

'Perhaps that is not the word, but I cannot be distressed at new experiences -it is not in my nature.'

'Even when they have you to play a role that is so against character?'

He chuckled at her turn of phrase. 'You do not wish to go through with our performance, my love?'

'No…' she confessed, feeling the weight of her decision settle in her heart, 'quite the opposite… What Fritha said to me earlier, about me no longer being an avariel-'

'She should not have said that to you!'

'No,' Aerie conceded, unable to feel a rush of pleasure at his vehemence, 'but… but, I really think she was trying to make me feel better. Did you see how hurt she looked when you all shouted at her? And before when she said I was scared of dying down here –she was right, I am. But if we don't all pull together I will… we all will. Fritha knows that, she feels it pressing on her, knowing she must lead us through it and it is driving a wedge between her and the rest of us.'

The elf sighed, shrugging slightly, Haer'Dalis instinctively pulling the blanket higher up her shoulder as she continued. 'You weren't here before, when Anomen first told her of his feelings. He had been the only one she had been confiding in for a time, with Jaheira's guilt keeping her away and the resentment over your leaving still lingering between herself and I. And then when he confessed to liking her and Fritha lost Anomen, as well, she went a bit odd; she had lost the one person she had left to talk to and I think it upset her, too, knowing what she could not have-'

'Or should not want!' added the tiefling.

'Haer'Dalis,' Aerie tutted, lightly tapping his chest in punishment. 'Fritha was in her own world half the time, talking to herself more and more. And when I eventually asked her about it, she said it was the only way she knew how to go on.' Aerie eased herself up onto an elbow to better see the stranger she knew so well. 'I think she's doing the same now. She's just carrying on as best she can, trying to remember the person she was and be like her, to support us, but it's all been twisted and remembered wrong. And, I- I don't want her to have to support me.'

'No,' agreed Haer'Dalis sternly, 'you certainly do _not_, if her previous observations are how she is to present the thing.'

Aerie sighed, falling back to the pillows to gaze up at the dark ceiling.

'Oh, Haer'Dalis… I want to support _her_. I thought, at first, that she was burying her fears, that if we could only get her to speak of them, she could return to who she was… But, she isn't that person anymore. Fritha as we know her has gone, and she doesn't need to talk or tell us how she feels; she knows it won't change a thing. She just wants to get us all through this alive and I want…' Aerie sighed, knowing it would be a lot of effort for so little an aid, 'I just want to be one less thing for her to have to worry about.'

Haer'Dalis was laid on his side, raised upon his elbow and watching her.

'Then we will, Aerie.'

'We will?'

The man beside her smiled and for the first time she felt she could see the face she knew behind that dark mask.

'Truly, you think an actor such as this sparrow could miss this opportunity?'

Aerie grinned, her heart suddenly lighter –wherever they were, in whatever skin, she would always have the comfort of his presence.

'Oh really?' she teased thoughtfully, 'So, if I were to say: bring me some wine, _male!'_

'Oh, _male_, is it?'

And any other orders she could dream up were lost to her shriek as Haer'Dalis pounced on her, their laughter leaving their first kissing pleasantly breathless as their mouths met.


	89. The web

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Baldur's Gate', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

-Blackcross & Taylor

_Author's note: Best of luck, Baldur's Fan, in your finals –I'm sure you'll do great._ ^_^

**The web**

Fritha awoke and stretched, enjoying the feeling of awaking in a bed that was not damp, or too short, or on the edge of a fathomless precipice. Enjoying even more the feeling of opening her eyes without that accompanying pain, so intense it felt it would split her head in two; there was something to be said for sobriety.

Tired as she had been, she had merely stripped to her underwear the night before and slept in that, and she was intrigued to find that Adalon's illusion extended to their belongings as well, as she rooted through her bag, her clothes changed in style and colour. She drew out what had once likely been her blue woollen jacket, now a sleeveless jerkin of moss green hide, the row of close metal buttons down the front glinting softly. She should really wear something under it, but it looked nice as it was, fitting like a second skin over her waist and hips, parting at her stomach to show a hint of dark flesh before her loose black trousers started, the collar short, stiff and slightly fanned, giving her neck a long and supple look. She was wearing less than she usually slept in, but the body in the mirror was not her body, not even her face and Fritha felt quite detached as she joined her friends in their common room and together moved down to the tavern.

Breakfast was an awkward affair. The food was an unfamiliar mix of fungi, pickled meats and freshwater molluscs. She was not sure whether the others had continued talking after she had retired, but no one was speaking outside of requests for dishes and Fritha was quite pleased when the hour came for them to depart, if only to break the tedium of the thing.

Outside the market was quieter than before, but still busy considering the hour and there were a few to witness their passing. Fritha was not so concerned anyway. Jaheira and Anomen knew what they were doing and Valygar's personality seemed to subscribe itself quite well to that of a drow. Minsc knew enough to keep quiet, and Imoen just stayed close to Jaheira, the older woman watching over her as she had always done. But, of all of them, the one who really impressed her was Aerie. The girl had truly taken her words to heart and was swaggering about the city as though she owned the place, Haer'Dalis catering to her every whim as she sneered lecherously at any male who passed.

Solaufein was awaiting them just where he had said he would be, on the edge of the marketplace next to the main gates, the man wearing that familiar low-browed frown as though he was having permanent trouble fathoming his surroundings. A woman was standing behind him surveying the area with the haughty, fractious expression that reminded Fritha of Jaheira on a bad day- something the rest of the market seemed to have noticed as well, everyone giving the pair a wide berth as their group approached, Solaufein stepping forward as they finally reached them.

'So, you have arrived, and in a timely enough manner.'

Fritha said nothing; they were, in fact, early, and she had made sure of it.

'Good. You will find your time here will be less unpleasant if you continue in this vein.' He turned to the scowling woman next to him, his head slightly bowed as he offered, 'Handmaiden, this is Veldrin of Ched Nasad.'

'Is it now?' Two red eyes turned to regard her critically, and Fritha dropped her attention deferentially to the priestess's throat, listening as the face above twisted with a disdainful sneer.

'So, Veldrin, is it? You may have come here under the banner of House Despana, female, but you still have no place until the Matron Mothers decide otherwise. However, the Spider Queen has smiled upon you, for you are to be given a chance to prove your worth; cling to that sole hope, _worms_, and do not fail.'

Fritha raised her face as she sensed the woman's gaze, at last, shift from her, the Handmaiden turning back to Solaufein to bark, 'Explain what has occurred, male, and be quick about it; the Spider Queen demands my attentions.'

'At once, Handmaiden. Veldrin, one of the Matron Mothers' daughters, in fact, a daughter of the very house that brought you here, ran afoul of devourers while out scouting. Her fool companions either fled or were slaughtered and she was taken captive. The Illithids know a prize when they have one. They will take her to their city and, should they reach it, she shall be lost forever and many secrets of Ust Natha will be in the hands of our enemies. We will intercept the devourers before this can happen. Handmaiden Imrae has given us a blessed icon of Lolth with that will pull them from their astral travel and it is there we will strike. Have you any questions?'

Fritha met the stern gaze he sent her quite unwaveringly. 'None.'

Solaufein nodded. 'Then we go.'

The place where Solaufein had planned their ambush was a couple of hours from the city, the way familiar enough, at first, though that was soon no longer the case as they headed further south –well, Fritha assumed it was south; it was difficult to keep her bearings down there and she felt getting her compass out might have been a bit of a giveaway.

They had reached their destination not long ago, a rocky plain, the ground slick with algae fed by the water that was dripping from above to slowly collect in rivulets and join the small river that was cutting thought the rock beside them. Their group was gathered on the edge of the clearing, half-concealed behind a pile of boulders that had been shaken from the cliff behind them by the last earthtremour, their flaky, cracked surfaces still free of the algae that covered the rest of the floor, she and Solaufein a little way from the others as they waited for the time to strike.

Solaufein glanced to the female at his side, the girl watching a spotted ore lizard watch her from a nearby rock. Phaere had been predictably guarded with the details of her new ally, but rumours travelled far and fast in the darkness and the man had heard enough to gather she was fleeing her own city with more than a little blood on her hands -and most of it from her own house. A female ruthless enough to have betrayed her own people, and sharp enough to get away relatively unscathed; he could see why Phaere was so pleased with her prize. Solaufein could not say he had given much thought as to what she would be like, though the reality of it had surprised him, all the same, the girl not even two centuries old by her appearance, though she carried herself with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, her face fair and made all the more pleasing in that it was not constantly marred by frown or sneer, her expression decidedly neutral as she waited silently beside him. The lizard had seemingly gleaned all it wished to, scuttling into a fissure to disappear and Veldrin turned back to find him watching her.

'What is it, male?' she questioned, though her voice lacked the usual animosity which accompanied that title. He shrugged indifferently –he owed her no deference after all.

'Merely that you are younger than I would have presumed.'

'You had an idea of what to expect?'

'There have been rumours- you are not as I would have expected from your reputation.'

This seemed to amuse her, a smile quirking her lips as she confirmed, 'Oh really? And just what did you expect?'

'Well, from what you did before you were forced to _flee_ here, I would have at least expected a female who would be more eager to prove herself, rather than meekly following the orders of a mere _male_.'

He had meant to rile her, just a quick snipe to remind the girl of just who was in command, but Veldrin merely snorted.

'So, you expected someone filled with a zealous temper? Who storms and rages over this petty insult and that trivial slight?' The girl turned her head with a delicate disdain. 'Such rashness fulfils no purpose. I keep my passions measured and achieve my ends by cooler means.'

'I see,' he said eventually, wondering vaguely if Phaere would be disappointed.

'So, the preparations you spoke of yesterday,' Veldrin continued, 'what has the armies of your city so occupied?'

'They are gathering for an attack on the hated surfacer elves, and their settlement not far from here -perhaps you know of it? It is named Suldanessellar in their tongue. Such a feat would usually be impossible, but recent alliances have allowed us a rare opportunity to spill this blood in the glory of Lolth's name. And rarer still, how it all came about: the way provided by two surfacers of plans and wickedness even to please the Spider Queen -though they departed the city days ago now.'

Veldrin's eyes were wide, her face lit with an angry shock. '_What?'_

Solaufein smiled at her predictable prejudice. 'I see you may keep temper in check, but still baulk at working with surfacers.'

The girl shook back her hair, her expression neutral once more as she turned from him. 'I am… unused to such things, yes, but anything that leads to power and the glory of house and Lolth,' she shrugged, indicating all was well by her. Solaufein nodded.

'A wise attitude in these changing times. But enough talk, I sense the Illithids are coming within range.' He threw a cursory glance to those gathered behind them, 'Be ready, all of you. The icon will suppress their psionics, but they are still a dangerous foe. Failure is death.'

'Your motivational speeches could use work, mate,' muttered Imoen as he moved away, raising above his head the small carved spider he had just brought from his bag. All at one the air began to thrum, the group hurrying to assemble before the boulders, drawing weapons in the tense silence that had engulfed them.

The icon was glowing, lighting the cavern about them in blue, Fritha wincing at light that would have once been a joy to see. A sudden flash and they were before them, a company of six Illithids and their two umberhulk thralls, a slender black figure left to fall to the grounds beneath as battle erupted.

Fritha ducked, thrusting her sword up through the creature's long torso, its hide robes affording it little protection and the girl was already past it, racing to the unconscious Phaere before the woman was trampled. It seemed Solaufein had had the same idea as she, the drow fighting his way towards her as well, the others scattered about them similarly engaged, one umberhulk already on its back, Minsc stabbing through the soft underside with a triumphant roar.

Their defeat was immanent and one of the Illithids had turned on Phaere, leaning over her supine body as though savouring the moment before it struck. Fritha and Solaufein arrived together, Fritha's foot colliding with the Illithid's hard stomach to send the creature staggering back, Solaufein already crouched and checking the woman behind her. The Illithid hissed, lunging toward her, Fritha swinging out to scatter tentacles in a spray of milky of white blood. Bulbous opaque eyes wide with pain, its gaping maw now exposed and dripping with its own blood, the ring of teeth closing upon her as the creature lunged to latch onto her face.

'Get down!' came Aerie's scream and Fritha ducked on instinct, a spell ripping overhead to strike it, the creature screeching as blue flames swallowed its long body, flesh bubbling like melting rubber. It dropped sideways, just a charred soup, and the woman behind her finally began to stir.

Solaufein had already retreated back to a respectful distance and Fritha did the same, the gracile woman picking herself up from where she had fallen, her long, proud face scanning about her, taking stock of her rescuers. Gratitude was not forthcoming.

'It is about time!' she huffed, dusting herself off with a graceful hand, 'I was beginning to think they would reach their city after all.'

Solaufein merely bowed. 'Greetings, Phaere, daughter of Ardulace. I trust you are uninjured.'

'Solaufein? So the Matron Mothers sent you, did they?' The air warmed with her throaty laugh, 'How it must gall.'

'I did as I was commanded.'

'Yes, as any male should,' the woman nodded, eyes finally leaving him to scan the rest of them, the icy blue gaze instantly fixing on Fritha. 'But who is this with you? Could it be… Veldrin of Ched Nasad?'

Solaufein was quick with the answer. 'That is-'

'I am sure she can speak for herself, male!' snapped Phaere. Fritha dipped her head in a bow.

'That is so; I am Veldrin.'

A smile was curling Phaere's lips; it looked hungry. 'Indeed. Well, Veldrin, we shall have to speak more, you and I, once we are back in the city. I shall head back now and inform the Matron Mothers of events.'

'You are going to return alone?' cried Solaufein, seemingly before he could stop himself, 'What if you encounter danger once again? I shall not be responsible for-'

Phaere cut him dead with a look. 'It is my choice and my command; do not question it again! Farewell, Veldrin.'

Solaufein waited until she was a good distance away before venting his bile, the man looking as though he just stopped himself throwing the icon to the ground in his temper.

'_Arrogant_ _wench!_ I shall follow her back to the city to ensure her overconfidence does not endanger us all. Return to the city as you will.'

And with that, he stalked off too. Imoen snorted.

'These drow are all a bit _tempestuous_, aren't they?'

Valygar frowned at her flippancy. 'I hope you find it as amusing when they are demanding your death for some unknown slight.'

'Ha! Veldrin will sort them for me, won't you, Veldrin?'

But Fritha, it seemed, was struggling with emotions of her own now she was finally free to vent them, the girl looking almost wild as she hissed into the blackness above.

'_That silver-scaled bitch!_'

**...**

They made their way back to the city without incident, their rangers' skills still sound, even in so alien a place. Fritha sent the majority of them back to the inn as soon as they'd passed the gates, she and Jaheira moving about the marketplace, picking up any extra equipment and maps they might need -everyone agreed that they should always be ready for a swift exit should the need suddenly arise. Fritha had been seething about Adalon and her betrayal ever since Solaufein had left them, and had seemingly not finished yet, muttering fiercely under her breath as they pushed through the crowds.

'I cannot _believe_ she tricked us like this! She _knew_ those two had already left and now we're stuck in here with her holding a sword over our heads.'

Jaheira had, as usual, taken up the mantle of peacemaker. 'Consider, Veldrin, she may not have known and she is desperate.'

'Oh, well, that's all right then, it's not as though _we're_ in any rush, after all. She knew all right; that _duplicitous_, _deceitful_- If you wish to keep your eyes, _slave_, I suggest you turn them elsewhere,' Fritha snapped, the drow slave who had been busy stacking crates next to one of the stalls hurriedly returning to his work.

'Veldrin, calm your-'

'I will _not_ be calm!' Fritha hissed, whirling to stalk off and colliding with the short man behind her. 'Watch your step, male!'

'Your pardon, honoured female,' he began hastily, his bow not quite hiding the curious glance he made to her face, and, for an instant, Fritha just stared back at him, his plain features framed on either side by straight jaw-length hair, before she realised his impudence; a hand at her sword hilt and he quickly lowered his eyes, stooping for the purchases she had dropped.

'Here, mistress -you have many maps,' he considered, as he passed them back to her, a furtive little smiling suddenly pulling at his lips that Fritha did not like the look of. 'You are new to our city? Perhaps, then, I have a business proposal for you. I am Jehind Feane, a merchant of this city. And you are?'

'Busy!' snapped Fritha, turning on her heel to stalk off, and cursing prolifically just as soon as she was out of earshot. '_Bastard, bastard, bastard!_ We do not need any more members of this city taking an interest in us.'

Jaheira frowned, shooting a wary glance behind her to where the male was still watching their retreating backs with an open smile.

'There is a shrewdness to his eyes –he knows something. What will you do?'

'_Do?_ What can I do? We will carry on as planned, with any luck we'll be well away before he can stir up any trouble –Oh, Ghaunadaur's slime-covered _arse_, what now?' Fritha hissed, the door before her opening on a scene of yet more trouble and one centred on their table.

A tall and rather broad female, her creamy hair gathered back in two long braids, was standing in their small corner of the tavern screeching threats about grudges and handmaidens to an equally furious, but thankfully silent, Anomen. It was a show that had drawn quite a few spectators, everyone in there eagerly watching the drama play out, males letting narrowed eyes shift slyly from their drinks, while the females looked on with open amusement. Of her own group, only Imoen and Valygar were about, the pair standing helplessly on the other side of the table, clearly unsure whether or not to step in –rushing to the aid of others not exactly a popular trait among the drow. Indeed, Solaufein was nearby, too, and watching the proceedings with a mild interest. Fritha cast her eyes heavenward to Gods that were now even further away.

'One day; just _one bloody_ _day!_'

**...**

'The Handmaidens will hear of this insult, male _worm!_ Your insolent tongue will be torn from your mouth, so you cannot even beg for mercy as they-, '

Solaufein let her tirade wash over him; he had heard it all before and from far more imposing sources than Elidrae, the fifth daughter of the almost insignificant House Vholdril. It was an unfortunate situation the male had found himself in: propositioned by a female of low-rank and not exactly physical significance either, with her broad shoulders and un-sculpted face. He and his group had clearly been people of rank in their native city before their forced departure, the male likely used to the attentions of more advantageous females; the blurted way he had made his appalled refusal showed Solaufein as much. It must have been galling to be there in that city with no status, no house, little better than slaves, and Solaufein wondered who had truly found the situation more insulting: she or him.

He glanced up at the sweep of the doors, Veldrin appearing at the mouth with her attendant, Yaeve, the girl sending a look of pure frustration to the high ceiling above her before she was stalking down the tavern's central aisle towards them, fine white hair billowing out behind her like the mists that often wreathed the Lower Hazzid River.

'What is going on here?' she snapped, the male of her company utterly ignored as she squared up to the taller woman. Elidrae's face twisted with a sneer as she finally found someone worthy of her ire.

'You! Your male insulted me!'

Veldrin raised an eyebrow, at last turning to look at the male who had been the cause of all this trouble. 'Did he now?'

'Yes! He refused my company in the lust chambers!'

Solaufein watched the pair along with the rest of the tavern. There was a simple way to resolve this, of course. Just order the male off with Elidrae and let the woman vent her temper upon him as she took her pleasure. But as her reputation suggested, Veldrin clearly eschewed the easy path and she did not seem to like backing down much either. She sent the male next to her a measured smile.

'Well, Tann, it seems you are not as foolish as you look. He is _my_ male and as such, under orders to report only to _me_. Had you come to me with tithes and requests, I may have heard you, but…'

Veldrin went to turn her back on her, the affront as blatant as her dismissal and it was an insult Elidrae was not to take without protest, hands flying to the long dagger at her hip.

'How dare-!'

It all happened very quickly. Veldrin darted to the side with an agility that few could have matched and reached back, grabbing the hand that held the knife for her, a foot sliding out to trip the woman and they both went crashing into the table. Everyone danced backwards, himself included, as cups toppled to send black ale and wine pooling over the surface, Veldrin's small frame on top of Elidrae's and pinning her there, one hand about the wrist that still held the knife, while the other secured the woman's head, braids twined about her fist like ropes as she pressed the woman's face into the slick granite surface. Veldrin let her struggle just long enough to realise the futility of it before she slowly leaned in, her voice little more than a whisper.

'Now, when I release you, you will straighten, sheath your knife, we will drink a toast to Lolth and you will _leave_.'

Another moment to let this sink in and Veldrin stepped back, seemingly relaxed, though Solaufein could see the tension in her shoulders, ready for any retaliation. Elidrae had lost her taste for retribution though, the woman straightening unsteadily to sheath her blade and accept the cup that Veldrin's companion, the young Haliue, passed to her, Veldrin herself snatching another from the few still left on the table to raise it high, her smile brighter than the crystal lamps above them.

'To the Spider Queen!'

Elidrae echoed her words, though far less passionately; perhaps she did not want to bring Lolth's attention to her shame, the woman draining the cup and turning instantly to make her exit with a poisonous scowl and not another word, and about the tavern, heads finally swivelled back to their own tables.

Veldrin oversaw her departure with a steady gaze, perhaps ensuring she had truly left, before she turned and ordered the rest of her group back to their rooms, the girl herself sinking into a chair on the drier side of the table and smiling as Solaufein moved to join her.

'You did not kill her,' he observed and she smiled, teeth flashing in the low lights.

'The dead don't know they've lost.'

'She could cause trouble for you later.'

But the girl just laughed. 'Let her try; I will relish the entertainment of it. You are here looking for entertainment yourself?'

'No,' he answered, his mood darkening in an instant, 'Phaere has sent me here to relay her latest orders.'

'Ah, another message from Phaere that sees the prize of the Male Fighter's Society as little more than a herald; you and she share a history, do you not?'

Solaufein felt his cheeks darken with an angry blush. 'Yes, and one I have no intention of sharing with you.'

'Orders?' came a voice, the pair turning to see the server before them, his eyes set firmly upon the wrought-metal tray he held.

'You took the words from my mouth,' Veldrin laughed, 'A black ale for me.' She glanced expectantly to Solaufein.

'Nothing.'

'One black ale,' the server repeated with a deferential nod, instantly disappearing off to the bar, Veldrin calling after him, 'And send someone to clear this table!'

'Yes, mistress.'

Veldrin turned back to the man at her side. 'And Phaere's orders for us?'

Solaufein frowned. 'To meet her outside Female Fighter's Society tomorrow morning.'

'She has another task for us?'

He snorted crossly, his lack of information frustrating; Phaere knew a thousand ways to torment him.

'I have told you what she told me. You are to meet her tomorrow; I would suggest you are not late.'

And with that, he rose and took his leave, the server passing him as he left and Fritha took her drink from his tray, leaving him cleaning the now empty table as she returned to their suite upstairs. Imoen was already regaling the others with the tale of their meeting, Haer'Dalis looking up at her entrance, a very familiar grin on that unfamiliar face.

'My raven! You are getting on well with the locals, I hear.'

Fritha threw herself in to the chair next to him with a smile.

'Ah, you know me, always eager to make friends. If only our Anomen was the same, we wouldn't have had the trouble to start with.'

The knight bristled. 'You expected me to _lie_ with that- that _woman?_'

Imoen grinned. 'Yeah, come on, Fritha; she was twice his size!'

A round of muffled snickering from Imoen and Haer'Dalis, even Fritha allowing herself a smile as she continued coolly, 'I expect of you, Anomen, what I expect of everyone here; the maintenance of our illusion as drow. Right, has Jaheira spoken to you about our meeting with that merchant?' A glance to the druid to see her nod. 'Good. Well, then you'll all know that the recovery of those eggs is even more pressing now, because as soon as someone finds out about us, we are all dead. I've just been speaking to Solaufein, and Phaere likely has a task for us tomorrow, so with that all in mind, tonight we are down in the tavern, _blending in_, and finding out anything we can about these eggs.' She glanced to Imoen. 'Think of the Thieves' Guild only with less of you sodding it off and chasing boys.'

The girl snorted darkly. 'Yeah, thanks for that.'

Anomen was still scowling. 'And what do you expect us to do if we face any more,' he paused, as though he found the word distasteful, '_propositions?_'

Fritha stared back at him impassively, trying to picture the face behind the one he wore now. Truth be told, if the previous unpleasantness which had passed between them since the asylum had not happened, she would have likely lain with him there. There, where he did not look as himself and her own body was a stranger to her. Anomen seemed rattled by her silence.

'_Well?_'

Fritha sighed. 'Send them over to me; I will make sure they change their minds.'

'Violence will not dissuade everyone,' warned Jaheira. Fritha gave a bark of spiteful laughter.

'Who said anything about violence? I shall just tell them what a boring bastard he is.'

'Fritha!'

xxx

'Damn her black heart! Where is she?' Solaufein spat, casting another dark look up the tall building next to him as though it was its fault for not producing the woman.

It was the next morning, he and Veldrin outside the Female Fighter's Society as instructed with no sign as yet of Phaere. Solaufein bit back another curse; any longer and _they_ would be late. He was quite sure she had said to meet her outside the Society building and did not doubt his own recollection of the fact, but the woman was known for her petty spite, especially where he was concerned; she could well be over at the main gates now, revelling in yet another humiliation. But he would have to leave there to confirm it and risk missing her arrival. The indecision was making him agitated, the complete opposite of the woman he was waiting with, Veldrin leant back against the wall of the building, cleaning under her nails and looking thoroughly bored. Solaufein felt his patience snap.

'Stay here, I am going to see if she has changed the meeting place without informing us.'

Veldrin straightened with a sigh. 'Well, at least let us establish whether she is here or not.'

And before he could say either way, she had leaned over to pound on the door next to her, a male slave appearing in the mouth but an instant later.

'Yes, mistress?'

Veldrin was, as ever, straight to business. 'I'm looking for Phaere, has she left yet this morning?'

'No, mistress, I believe she is still in her chambers.'

Veldrin glanced to him with an impassive shrug. 'There you go.' She turned back to the slave, 'You will show us up.'

Solaufein just stifled his bark of 'No!' If Phaere took offence then it was all this foreigner's idea, after all, and he had a feeling Veldrin knew how insolent she was being, the girl testing the ground with her new mistress, seeing what she could get away with, what would earn her a swift reprimand, and he could have found her fearlessness quite attractive had it not put a dagger at his own throat, as well.

They were admitted without a word, their passage strangely quiet, the echo of their footsteps barely a whisper in the air as the slave led them across the stone entrance hall to the dark mouth of the stairwell. The building was in the traditional layout of the city, the narrow curved staircase coiling up the outside wall, doorways occasionally opening onto the corridors and rooms layered within. The hour was still early enough to find the majority of the rooms they passed empty and those they did see paid them little obvious attention, a few of the women glancing up as they ascended past the entrance to the large training hall. They followed the slave right up to the seventh and final floor before he stopped, moving to knock tentatively on the smooth grey door that now blocked their path.

'Enter,' came the murmur from inside, the slave disappearing around the door to venture, 'Mistress, Solaufein and a female are here to see you.'

'Truly? Show them in.'

The slave did as he was told, opening the door for them both and closing it behind them, seemingly glad to have the whole thing over with. Their trial, though, was just beginning. Fritha let her eyes quickly travel the room. It was quite large and decorated in the same style as her own at the inn, albeit far more lavishly, all twisting metal and polished stonework. In the far corner was set a firepit, though it was absent of the curling blue flames, the floor about it surrounded by an opulent scattering of silk cushions in purples and greys, a rack of exotic weapons and an armour stand the only other furniture. Another two doorways led from that main room, Phaere herself watching them from the one just to the left, presumably the entrance to her bedchamber since she was wearing only a diaphanous grey slip, a short well-muscled male sitting on the bed still finding his clothes in the room behind her.

'Veldrin and Solaufein,' Phaere purred, seemingly pleased to have been discovered so, 'is it so late already? I fear I lost track of the time.'

The male was finally dressed, at least by drow standards, Phaere catching a thick bicep as he made to pass her and Fritha watched dispassionately as the woman caught him in a long lingering kiss that seemed entirely for their benefit, finally drawing back only to slap him sharply across the face. But the male did not seem offended, and they smiled broadly at each other before he turned and swaggered out, the man giving Fritha a grin as he passed.

'Now, Solaufein and, of course, _Veldrin_,' Phaere smiled, pausing to see Solaufein's reaction, though he did not oblige her and she continued skilfully, 'I am pleased to be able to at last greet the one who so valiantly rescued me from those filthy devourers.'

That baited him well enough.

'Ah, I must have been absent during that encounter,' the man muttered sourly. Phaere's face twisted with a delighted frown.

'I was speaking to Veldrin. When I speak to you, Solaufein, it will be a command to lick my boot. Ignore your emasculated commander's outburst, Veldrin. I will tell you now, the Matron Mothers are delighted that House Despana gave you a place here. My own mother, Matron Ardulace, can see already it was as I said, that you will grow to be a valuable asset to our house. In fact, so pleased was Matron Ardulace with your performance, it seems you and Solaufein are to be entrusted with another task for the good of the city.'

Solaufein snorted. 'I was not aware Matron Ardulace did anything for the good of the city.'

'Silence!' Phaere barked; it seemed she did not like his remarks as much when it had not been herself who had provoked them, her manner still brusque as she returned her attention to Fritha. 'There is a crate arriving at the docks within the hour; you are to meet with the spelljammer it is arriving on, oversee its safe delivery and guard the crate until the acolytes arrive and dismiss you.' She leaned in slightly, icy blue eyes almost lost under the threatening frown. 'Under no circumstances are you to open the crate.'

But Solaufein was staring back at her with a scowl of his own. 'And what is so important that it requires us as guards? What is this delivery?'

'Do not ask questions, male. You are dismissed. Veldrin will join you when we have finished speaking.'

Solaufein sighed tersely, already turned to leave. 'Fine, I will await you outside.'

Fritha nodded, but said nothing. Phaere smiled as soon as the door clicked shut, moving to return to her bedroom and beckoning Fritha after her. The room was decorated similarly to the first, a large unmade bed dominating the space, Phaere sinking back to sit on it and making no offer to Fritha of a seat as she continued.

'Ah, Veldrin, at last we meet face to face. I took a great risk in securing you a place here; it is a debt I expect to be repaid in full.'

'I am here to serve.'

Phaere smiled knowingly, eyes hard and calculating behind the gesture.

'Yes, just as you were to your last house? I am curious, Veldrin. You had standing in Ched Nasad; the Master of Arms is a strong position for one who is not of the house's direct line. You had power and favour, yet you betrayed your Matron.'

Fritha worked to keep her feet still, feeling increasingly uncomfortable with this line of questioning. 'I suppose it could be seen as such.'

'You suppose?' Phaere laughed throatily. 'You assassinated her two elder daughters!'

Fritha felt her eyes widen, her heart's pace quickening; it was all very well bluffing your way through a scene, but only if your audience didn't already have the script! Phaere took her alarm for surprise though.

'You are shocked I know the details of your flight? Come now, Veldrin, I would hardly accept your offer without doing a few enquiries into the terms of your disgrace. If nothing else, it could have been useful in assuring your otherwise potentially capricious loyalties.'

'If you already know the details of my actions, then why ask me of it further?' Fritha muttered sullenly, doing what she felt was a rather good impression of Solaufein. But Phaere was not to be deterred.

'I know that you killed them, I do not know the circumstances.'

Fritha did not even dare to swallow, all her fears and that nerve-tearing strain expressed in only her sulky frown as she let her mind slip back to the archives and that dusty old book with the, in actual fact, very dull woodcuts.

'I had a position, yes, and it allowed me to see what others could not. Our Matron Mother was weak; our house was stagnating under her rule when we should have been rising to glory. It would only be a matter of time before one of the other houses noticed the same and sealed our downfall. I alone understood this and I alone dared to act. Our Matron held her eldest daughter in greatest favour, and it was that girl she was grooming for rule.'

Fritha let a sneer curl her lip.

'But she was insipid and weak like her mother and I knew she would further lead our house to ruin. Her younger daughter was not from the same mould though. It was I who had trained her with the blade in her youth and I knew the hunger that burned within her. Hunger yet proved when she came to me, asking me to assassinate her sister while she held council with her mother on some minor matter of the house as alibi. I did as she asked. I and my strongest warriors fought our way into the elder's chambers and slaughtered her. But the younger daughter's hunger was to be my undoing as well, for, but moments after the deed was done, she was standing in the chambers behind me, her own guard at her back and ready to murder me in vengeance for her sister, to win her mother's favour and keep my silence both. But though I did not expect her treachery, I did plan for it, and here I am while she lies dead.'

'You were tricked,' Phaere pointed out with more than a little pleasure.

Fritha shrugged. 'No reward is without risk; I regret nothing.'

Phaere smiled broadly, looking at her as though she had just discovered some wholly unexpected treasure, and Fritha at last felt her heart calm.

'You speak boldly, Veldrin; perhaps we will have Ched Nasad regretting your departure yet, yes? As for now, you are still a foreigner in this city, so things are awkward for you, but I can arrange for you to broaden your company if you wish.' Phaere smiled eloquently, leaning back to stretch lithely on the crumpled sheets. 'I know you travel with males, but it can become so tiresome with just the same few and there are some men over at the Male Fighter's Society who would be more than obliging.'

'Like Solaufein?'

Phaere looked up sharply at that, for a moment furious, when she suddenly laughed. 'I would have anyone else flogged for such calculated insolence, but it suits you too well.'

Fritha smiled slightly too, taking the compliment as it was meant as the woman continued.

'And let me assure you, _he_ is not worth the effort. But I could arrange something with one of the more virile members.'

'I thank you for the offer, though I believe, as a foreigner in this city, I have more important conquests to occupy me than the males I take to my bed.'

The woman eyed her shrewdly from where she lay, slowly beginning to nod. 'Wise, very wise. Your ambition is to be commended, though such focus is rare and something you'll find few here truly appreciate. But go now, return when the shipment is delivered.'

Fritha smiled and dipped her head.

'Yes, mistress.'

xxx

Fritha had returned to the inn and collected the others, explaining to them their next undertaking, the task they had been given had been simple enough. Of course, it had been complicated some by the fact the crate began shaking violently on delivery, the crew dropping it at about halfway along the gangplank to retreat to a safe distance, Phaere's orders not to open it rather redundant when a huge beholder exploded from it in a hail of splintered wood.

The spells that had been keeping it unconscious had apparently worn off early, and the creature had awoken from its rest enraged and extremely opposed to being delivered _anywhere_. The docks were in chaos, the beholder summoning magics and blasting anything that moved with its many eyes, a few drow falling to their deaths from the high walkways as the spelljammer tried to make a hurried exit, and their group had had little choice but to kill the creature. It had been to a background of grim faces that Solaufein had sent word of this complication to Phaere, though an unconcerned message had arrived back not long afterwards, indicating no displeasure on her part, merely reminding them to guard the body until the acolytes arrived for it -and not to disturb the corpse.

At last, the acolytes had arrived with a box of their own and they were relieved of their duty, Solaufein still muttering to himself as he quit their company for the Male Fighter's Society. As for their group, they had been given a day's leave as reward for their success.

Anomen wondered if the women could have ever realised what a punishment such was.

He was seated at their table in the busy tavern, the unfamiliar and wholly downcast faces of Valygar, Minsc and Imoen sat about him as they drank in silence, Jaheira and Fritha already retired for the evening.

_And the others_… he considered as a sharp cry pulled her attention to the bar, Aerie stood there glaring imperiously at the short man before her who was drawn back clutching his cheek, Haer'Dalis watching the proceedings with a smirk.

Well, some of them seemed to be enjoying it a bit _too_ much.

Anomen turned back to the table, keeping his eyes on his drink so as best to avoid any unwanted attention from the women that surrounded him, some seated as he was, drinking and talking, while others stood openly scanning the room for a potential match to take up to the lust chambers.

That a place could be so dull and yet so tense was beyond his understanding, but that did not prevent Anomen from feeling the frustrations of being stuck there in that body, the desire to do something quivering inside him, anything that would bring them closer to finding those eggs and escaping that pit. He wished more than anything he could make his prayers and allow the calm they were ensured to bring him enter his heart, but Fritha had forbidden them, the girl not wanting to find out just how much power Lolth held down there in the seat of her veneration.

'Do you think we should be continuing our investigations?' came a voice he was finally beginning to recognise as Valygar, the cool inflection the same even with the change in tone. Anomen glanced up in time to see Imoen's despondent shrug, the girl taking another swig of ale.

'No one knew anything yesterday, why would they today?'

'The man I spoke to was free enough with his words,' continued the ranger, 'though he knew nothing of any surfacers passing through the city or even when the armies were planned to advance. The most he spoke of was when he found out we're working for Solaufein and Despana. He said the ties there used to be stronger, though he would not explain further -only that Ardulace had not seen it as an advantage and all was resolved long ago.'

Imoen snorted bitterly. '_Nothing's_ resolved between those two! Besides, you were lucky. I had some stuck-up sod harping on and on about this being the _first_ city and the part Ust Natha played in the Scattering and how there wouldn't even _be_ a Ched Nasad without them –like I'd _care_.'

Anomen took a mouthful of the bitter black beer, feeling better for this discussion and a chance to air his worries.

'What I cannot understand is, if the passage is now clear, why have the drow not yet begun their attack? Adalon cannot stop them, after all.'

'I suppose we could ask…' offered Imoen, casting about her contemplatively.

'We should not risk anything without Veldrin being here,' warned Anomen.

'Since when do we need _her_ permission?'

'She is our leader, young Haliue,' reminded Minsc sternly, surprising Anomen with his recollection of the alias, 'And well-earned the title was.'

'I know,' Imoen sighed, seemingly irritated by her own spite, 'I don't mean it like that, I just… I just wish we were doing something, instead of just sitting here.'

'We understand your frustrations; Boo himself is greatly tired of being kept always within the rooms. But we must trust in our leader.'

'Yeah, even though she barely trusts us -all right, Ilmyn, I _know_,' Imoen added quickly as Minsc drew a breath to rebuke her. 'But Irenicus has already left the city and we're trapped here running errands for Phaere until we find those eggs. If we miss him again because of this…' Imoen trailed off, looking worried and miserable. Valygar frowned.

'We will reach the city in time. Irenicus went to all this trouble to bring the elves war for a reason. I suspect he hopes to use the cover of the attack as a distraction for him to find what he wants within Sul-' He stopped, eyes flicking pointedly to the doors and Anomen turned to see Solaufein stood just before them, scanning the room. His eyes found them, and, all at once, he was making for their table, Anomen watching his approach.

'You-' the drow began, Anomen not even letting him finish his order.

'My _name_ is Tann.'

He could see the amusement in the drow's eyes at this pointless defiance, though Solaufein said only, 'I have a message for your mistress. Fetch her here.'

Anomen scowled, wishing he was in his own body, towering above him with the power of his god free at his disposal, and perhaps his anger showed on his face for the drow raised an expectant eyebrow, a smile twitching his lips. Anomen forced himself to rise, turning to head for the stairs; the sooner they were out of that hole, the better.

**…**

Fritha lay, her head turned to the side and resting on her crossed hands, her cheek rubbing against her teeth and tickling the inside of her mouth as the slave kneaded her back. The others may have hated being there, but Fritha could definitely see advantages to it. She had enjoyed a hot bath every night since arriving and since she had gained Phaere's favour, even more benefits were making themselves apparent.

Fritha sighed as the drow's strong fingers worked over her shoulders. The slave, one of Phaere's personal attendants, had arrived an hour or so ago, explaining he had been sent to entertain her for the next few hours as a reward for her services, the man setting up the narrow padded bench as Fritha had slipped behind her room's screen to strip and enfold herself in the fine grey silk wrap he had brought for her. She had never had a massage before, the mere feeling of being touched invoking a pleasant rush of sensations that were becoming increasingly rare and her skin bristled as his fingers travelled further down her spine.

'Are you cold, mistress? Should I-?'

'No, I am fine, merely enjoying myself.'

She could hear the slave's smile. 'I am glad, mis-.'

Fritha's head whipped up as the door before them banged open, the girl relaxing to rest her chin on her crooked elbow as she recognised the now slender form of Anomen, the surprise on his face soon giving way to contempt at the scene which greeted him.

'I have an urgent summons, _mistress_,' he ground out, his slight pause of reluctance barely noticeable. Fritha sent him a cold look.

'Indeed. Well, it must be urgent if you take it upon yourself to barge in here without even the courtesy of knocking. But do not worry, Tann, _I_ shall not be so hasty later when administering your reprimand. Leave us,' she dismissed to the slave, the man passing Anomen, his lowered head by no means hiding his smirk; _he_ knew how to behave.

They waited until the door clicked shut before speaking again, Anomen wasting no time in venting his disapproval, the concern that lingered behind his tone merely annoying her further.

'You take too much pleasure in this act.'

Fritha smiled eloquently and adjusted the silk folds at her chest. 'I do just enough to maintain my cover.'

Anomen snorted. 'Oh, yes, luxuriating yourself in this den of lusts.'

'Luxuriating?' she giggled. 'Has Haer'Dalis been teaching you long words again? Now, what's this summons?'

'That drow, Solaufein, is downstairs asking for you.'

'Alone?'

'What?'

Fritha sighed tersely. 'I _mean_ has he any women with him?'

'No,' snapped Anomen.

'Fine, he can wait then; it would not do to seem too obliging. Send the slave back in on your way out -that is, unless you wish to finish his task for him?'

Anomen did not look tempted. In fact, Anomen looked livid, but that was far more satisfying than any massage.

The slave lavished his attentions upon her for another half an hour, finishing her massage with the intimation he would be more than willing to attend to other aches she may have had, but Fritha merely dismissed him with the excuse of being busy. She had been half tempted to, as well; a spit in the face of her previous romantic notions, one of the last few surviving remnants of her old self, and a part of her wanted to finally stop clinging pointlessly to whom she had been, to embrace this brokenness and accept the person she had become.

Downstairs, Solaufein informed her that Phaere wished to see her alone at her apartments, the man making no comment about his wait. Phaere however…

Fritha had to fight against recoiling a step, the woman stalking across the room as soon as the door was closed, her face lit with a fury which had enjoyed a long while to mature to its peak.

'Where, _by Lolth_, have you been?'

Fritha returned her anger with a cool look; this was going to hurt.

'I was indisposed; as I understood it, I was to be given a day's leave.'

The hand swiped her brutally across the cheek, so hard Fritha could feel the heat under its sting.

'I will not hear excuses! You are here to serve my house and when I summon you, I expect you to attend immediately!'

'Yes, mistress.'

Phaere said nothing, just snorted, and Fritha watched her as she turned to stalk back across the room and pour herself some wine, knocking it back in one sharp mouthful. She was clearly agitated and Fritha could see her twitching in her own skin; such a change from the cool, drawling woman who swaggered about the city so assured of her own power. Phaere glanced up from the cup, looking grave.

'The Beholder you killed, Veldrin, it was not the right one. I have had a summons from my mother, Matron Ardulace -she wishes to see you as well.'

Fritha swallowed. 'When?'

'Now.'

The temple of Lolth was in the centre of the city, a huge hive of rare purple stone, many metal spires and buttresses sprouting from it, a great fat spider overseeing all from the middle of its web.

Inside, it was a maze of corridors, guards and Handmaidens all going about on their own errands. Fritha had yet to see the main hall of worship and she felt they had likely already passed it by; two large doors had stood opposite the entrance, an intricate design of spiders and drow etched upon them in silver and a guard standing either side. Phaere was leading the way, marching down the halls at a furious pace, finally pushing a door open on a circular chamber, a library by its look, racks of scrolls lining the curved walls. And there they waited for a good half hour, just knelt with heads bowed, Fritha tracing patterns with her eyes in the glittering mosaic that was underfoot.

At last, the click of the door, the air stirring with the scent of incense as three people marched in, two wearing the intricate armoured sandals of Handmaidens, the one that followed, in deep purple robes, the sliver hems sweeping across the floor with a sigh. The clatter as the metal chair they had brought was set before them on the tiles and then a voice, cold and quiet with anger, and Fritha watched Phaere's hands ball into fists to hide their tremble as Ardulace began.

'So you have finally come. I wondered if you would have been too ashamed after such a glaring _failure_ of your house. Indeed, I was just explaining to the other Matrons why our plans are yet delayed-'

'B-But Matron-'

'Silence, girl!' snapped Ardulace shrilly, her voice echoing gloriously in that stone chamber, 'Would you deal with a drider again so soon? _Explaining_ to the Matrons why our armies are dormant, still awaiting their greatest ally. It is a question _I_ should like to know the answer to as well.'

And Phaere seemed more than desperate to provide her one.

'Matron, the spelljammer tyrant was supposed to be an Elder! I swear that is what the slavers assured me!'

'_Assured you?_ And you did not think to go and confirm such for yourself?' Ardulace snorted her contempt at the silence that answered her. 'I see. You are unworthy of the task I gave to you… perhaps I should allow one of your sisters the responsibility in your stead; I know they all would be eager to take your place.'

'No, Matron!' came Phaere, her voice firmer now, 'I will get what is required; I just need time to locate it!'

'You know what we face; with every day that passes the silver one will become more desperate, so see that you find it _quickly_.' A pause to give time for her command and the threats that hung just beneath to sink in, and Fritha sensed the Matron's gaze shift. 'So, who is this with you? The foreigner?'

'Matron, this is the female that I spoke to you of, Veldrin of Ched Nasad.'

'Is that not what I _said?_' Ardulace snapped, and Fritha could feel her eyes boring into the top of her head. 'Ehh… I see nothing so special about her. You, girl! Veldrin, is it? Come here.'

A glance to Phaere, the woman nodding urgently and Fritha rose, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on her chest as she moved to stand before the woman's chair, the two Handmaidens either side shifting slightly.

'So you are the one who Phaere so vouched for… I took a great risk in securing you a place here, girl; those who betray their own Matrons rarely find favour anywhere.'

'Those who betray their Matrons rarely live long enough to look.'

Another slap to the face, the Handmaiden quick to reward her insolence with a backhand vicious enough to jar her neck. Fritha could taste blood in her mouth, the old pain surfacing to join the new; she rather wished the priestess had hit the other cheek. It was no reflection of Matron Ardulace's displeasure though, the woman cackling spitefully.

'Ha! A good answer. Now, Veldrin, you have proven yourself competent by the rescue of my daughter –not that she _warranted_ such efforts! This is good; House Despana needs competence, a seemingly rare commodity, though I warn you now, make any move against my house and you will not live to boast of it to another city foolish enough to take you in. Now, both of you, get out of my sight!'

It was not until they were outside that chamber and many corridors away that Phaere drew to a halt, the woman pulling her into a small side-chamber with a feverish haste, her eyes intense with some inner light.

'You know now, Veldrin, what task rests upon our house –all the glory and power that lies ready for our grasp as House Despana provides the city with its greatest ally in our upcoming attack upon the surface elves. But for that we need blood, the Elder blood from one of the old races –that those slavers _lied_ to me!' she snapped in a tone that spoke of lingering punishments, the woman continuing more to herself as she planned aloud, 'I will need to contact my spies and find a new source for what we need. The warrens to the south may prove fruitful, but they will no doubt be heavily guarded… ' Phaere glanced up, half surprised to find her there and smiling slightly as she did. 'You did well this evening, Veldrin –my mother is pleased by you. Return now to the inn; I will summon you again when I have need.'

Fritha nodded once and dared, at last, to return her smile. That evening and Phaere's clear distress had blurred the divide between them, and they felt more now like allies than master and servant, though Fritha was not about to test the sensation -at least not yet.

'Yes, mistress.'

**…**

Outside and finally alone once more. Fritha breathed the sigh she had been holding back all evening, waiting until she was a good few streets from the temple before slipping into the shadow of a grey domed building and gingerly touching her cheek, the skin tender and swollen, but still quite whole. The tongue behind her eyes clucked in sympathy.

_Poor lamb, I'm sure you'll be- Behind you!_

Fritha whirled, a hand already on her sword, the man behind her looking rather surprised, still a good few yards away and hardly strident in his approach. Fritha felt her insides groan –it was that merchant from the marketplace, and she made no attempt to hide her displeasure as he closed to her.

'What do _you_ want?'

'Why, to continue my proposal, honoured female,' he smiled, falling into step with her and exuding more confidence than likely possessed by all the merchants in Ust Natha combined. 'I hope you are no longer too busy for the discussion, Veldrin of Ched Nasad.'

So he had been asking after them. Fritha scowled; this was the last thing they needed.

'You will address me as _mistress_ or not at all!'

'Of course; your pardon, honoured female. You know, I have been thinking about you since we met in the marketplace,' Jehind continued suavely. Fritha snorted.

'Oh really? I get that a lot.'

His smile broadened to a grin. 'I am sure you do… But offers such as mine come along but once in a lifetime. I have in my possession a rope of great magics that once belonged to the famed Jarlaxle Baenre.'

'Oh, is that _so?_'

'I hear the disbelief in your tone, honoured female, so allow me to give the tale that proves my case. Jarlaxle was in the city on a mission for House Jae'llat, helping them in their war against House Gillish. It was done in an orgy of blood to please even Lolth, but afterwards the Matron of Jae'llat refused to pay Jarlaxle, saying that services rendered to the Spider Queen should be payment enough. According to the tales, Jarlaxle simply bowed and left even as the gathered house mocked him and spread the story of his foolishness.'

Fritha sighed loudly. '_Scintillating_ though this tale is, what has it to do with your rope?'

Jehind smiled, seemingly amused by her discourtesy.

'Well, Jarlaxle enacted a plan of revenge, moving to acquire the wardstone that would allow him entrance into House Jae'llat, so he could return their favour. But the wardstone is held by the lich, Deirex, an ancient ally of that house. The rope's magics would have protected Jarlaxle from the lich, but I, ah, swapped the real rope for a fake when his men visited my shop for supplies. Jarlaxle barely escaped with his life and the rogue laughed out of the city for the failure.'

'And now you want _me_ to buy the rope from you,' confirmed Fritha bluntly. 'The rope you _stole_ from the head of the Bregan D'aerthe, the elite mercenary band…'

Jehind was quick to assuage her doubts. 'Consider, honoured female, there is nothing that links this rope to yourself and its powers are extensive. You could steal the wardstone yourself, loot the lich's tower, even House Jae'llat. Look upon it, mistress,' he breathed, reverently drawing a loop from his pack, the thin rope glowing like spun gold.

'Oh, yes, very nice; I've one just like it.'

Jehind blinked owlishly. 'Truly, mistress?'

'Yes, and the sahuagin I took it from is in no state to demand its return either.'

Jehind laughed, though he was not so easily swayed from his pitch.

'But I warrant it is not as fine as this one. All the magics to breach even a Lich's lair: invisibly that cannot be dispelled, spell shields that cannot be breached, layer upon layer of protective magics -why you could smuggle a rothé beast into the Temple of Lolth!'

'Enough,' snapped Fritha, 'I could not be less interested; that rope is nothing more than a noose and I have no desire of it.'

Jehind sighed. 'Well, I can only accept your decision and hope you change your mind –visit my shop just east of the marketplace if you do.'

They had come to a halt at a crossroads next to a large platform, a chaos of people milling about, halfway through unloading the spelljammer that had docked there, the docks a tier above clearly full. Jehind turned to her.

'I suppose we are to part ways then,' he grinned, 'unless there is anything _else_ I might serve you in?'

Fritha just suppressed an eye roll. 'No, I prefer my males taller.'

His smile took on a lecherous cast. 'My skills more than make up for my stature.'

Fritha snorted with a mild amusement.

'Well, they would have to. But that is all by the by; I am tired and busy and _quite_ bored enough of this discourse. I hope we will not meet again.'

Fritha turned, taking the western walkway, more than pleased to leave him behind her, though her relief was cut short.

'Veldrin!'

'I _told_ you-' she snapped, whirling back only to stop, the unfamiliar forms of Anomen and Jaheira appearing from the walkway to her east, 'Oh, Tann, it is you and Yaeve, as well. Why are you here?'

Fritha could see the anxiety to their eyes even if their words remained decidedly neutral, Jaheira offering coolly, 'You were long in your meeting with Phaere, Veldrin; we wished to know the outcome.'

'Who was that you were speaking with?' asked Tann, staring back across the busy platform with a frown. Fritha sighed.

'Jehind _again_. It matters not.'

'But Veldrin-'

'Enough, Tann, I am tired.'

'Mistress?' came the call and Fritha whipped back to the eastern walkway to see a slave hurrying towards them, something about his face almost familiar.

'Mistress, I have a message for you,' he announced as he reached them, his eyes flicking briefly over her face. Fritha was already on edge.

'Well, speak it then!'

The male smiled at her tone, dipping his head with a mock respect. 'Forgive me, mistress, I must have misheard in the market today; I thought this female called you Veldrin, but that would make you Veldrin of Ched Nasad, the female who is rising to power within House Despana.'

Fritha just caught her wince. '_And?_'

'And I was a guard for House Guandar of Ched Nasad before I was captured by the Nathans and brought here as a slave, Mistress _Veldrin_. Surely, you are much changed; though it must be said, it is a definite improvement.'

Fritha felt her blood chill, the girl sparing a stiff glance to the others before asking the question he was just aching to hear.

'What do you want?'

The man smiled; everything was going exactly as he had planned.

'I am a slave here, no better than you would have been had not the Spider Queen chosen to smile upon you. Well, now She smiles upon me. You will buy and release me, a free man to serve you in your retinue. Either that or I will expose you and earn my freedom that way.'

Fritha held his gaze and, at last, nodded once, pointing to the walkway south that entwined a smaller of the city's stalactites and the stairs that led up to the next level.

'Very well, but we cannot speak of this here,' she murmured, letting her eyes flick to the crowded platform next to them, 'come with me behind the stairwell there and we will discuss your terms.'

The man's breath came in a sour rush as he laughed in her face. 'Ha! Do you think me a fool?'

'I _think_ you are straining what little grace the Spider Queen may have bestowed to your worthless hide,' Fritha snarled, all the while surreptitiously unbuckling her sword to shift closer and slyly offer it to him, 'Here! Take it! Now I am unarmed and you are not.'

The male paused, no sign of war on his face as he clearly weighed the risks. Fritha waited just long enough for doubt to creep in.

'Look, I will be out of the city from tonight and not returned for many days; if you wish to speak, we do it _now_.' She gestured to the walkway before them, the man eyeing it warily, before taking her sword to nod once.

Anomen was frowning. 'Veldrin-'

'Silence, male.'

The pair walked off to disappear behind the great stone pillar. A moment later, and Fritha returned quite alone.

xxx

Imoen watched the flames before her, the bright blue petals twisting and dancing to her will as she let her own magic merge with enchanted fire. She could feel the disapproval of the man sat on the chair behind her, but she ignored it; if Valygar was not used to the fact she was a mage by now, then that was his problem.

Still, it was nice that he was there and she suspected he had arranged it to be so, Imoen rather fraught by the time Jaheira and Anomen had _finally_ agreed to go and look for her friend, and Valygar had taken it upon himself to come and wait in their common room with her, the others retired a while ago.

The panic was over now. Jaheira and Anomen had arrived back not long ago, informing them that they had met Fritha on her way back from her meeting, and that the girl was downstairs now having a drink. Their manner had been brusque though, a dark look flitting between them at the mention of her name, and Imoen wondered if Fritha had not been exercising her temper again.

It was strange. Imoen wanted to feel sorry for the girl, but as much as the capacity was reduced within her, this Fritha did not feel much like her friend anyway. It was as though she was still waiting for the old Fritha, _her_ Fritha to make an appearance, to rescue her from this impostor with a laugh and a grin.

They had made up after their argument straight away, Fritha claiming she had not meant what she had hissed at her in that cold stone tunnel, but Imoen could not help but wonder if that was true, whether this resentment had not always been lurking in Fritha's heart, suppressed by the soul that Irenicus had since stolen, and Imoen had felt out of sorts since, unable to shake the nagging guilt that perhaps she _could_ have done something. She had not even attempted to escape from the asylum and, back in the dungeon, though it had not quite been the picture of liberty Fritha had painted, Imoen knew she had had more freedom that the others. Yet she had been so ensnared by her own fears, she had waited over a tenday before moving against their captor, and only then because the dungeon had come under attack. How long would she have waited had that not forced her hand?

Perhaps she _had_ been relying on Fritha too much… but that was what friends did, wasn't it, leant upon each other in times of difficulty? Only now, it seemed, after so many crossed-words, Fritha did not trust any of them enough to lean back. Imoen sighed, the fire before her no longer the entertainment it had once been –her newfound powers reminding her of some unwanted truths. She was a Bhaalspawn now, just like Fritha, and yet this common ground had seemingly put more distance between them. Imoen was a Bhaalspawn, yes, but Fritha was _the_ Bhaalspawn, and she hated how her friend played up her supposed divinity, because it just made the rift between them seem even greater. Imoen turned abruptly to the man behind her, ready for some distraction.

'So, did you really kill your parents?'

Valygar blinked once; she could tell she had surprised him even in this new face, perfect white eyebrows giving an involuntary quirk upwards, but he answered her all the same.

'That is what Fritha said, is it not?'

'Yeah, but she was pretty angry, so she could have just been putting that slant on it.'

The man sighed, almost as though he wished it were so as he admitted, 'No, I killed them.'

'Why? Were they doing something wrong?'

'I thought so at the time. There is a history of magic in my family, just as there is a history of the corruption and darkness such powers feed. To be fair, my father was already dead, I merely dispatched his animated corpse. My mother though… I killed her.'

'But why?'

Valygar shrugged. 'She was mad and I believed her corrupted beyond redemption.'

Imoen sent him an understanding smile. 'Sounds like you're not so sure anymore.'

'No…' he admitted finally, 'no one is beyond redemption, but it takes the will to see it and their will to want it, and all must be balanced against the time it would take and the harm that could be done in the meantime. I made a mistake. I cannot correct it, I can only go forward conscious not to make it again.'

'Oh, and don't forget protecting the world from evil mages like me,' she added with a grin. Valygar treated her to rare smile.

'_That_ goes without saying.'

Imoen laughed, turning back to the flames. She liked Valygar. He was calm and steady and did not lose his temper like _everyone_ else seemed inclined at the moment -herself included. The rattle of the door handle, and Imoen whipped back to finally see her friend returned, safe though not entirely sound, one dark cheek painfully swollen and a large stone bottle clasped in her hand.

'Hey, Fritha, you're back,' Imoen trilled, moving to sit on the sofa and pat the space next to her, 'We were worried.'

Fritha sighed, collapsing heavily at her side. 'I was hardly gone long.'

'No, but when Solaufein turned up so unexpected –what did Phaere want?'

The girl snorted darkly. 'Someone to share in the blame. The beholder we oversaw the delivery of -it wasn't the right sort.'

'The right sort for what?' questioned Valygar.

'For whatever they want it for. House Despana has promised the drow armies their greatest ally in the upcoming battle.'

'And who is that?' asked Imoen eagerly.

Fritha shrugged. 'Someone worth hanging on for, clearly, and the blood of an Elder beholder or some other greater creature is the key to the alliance.'

Imoen watched as she leaned back, Fritha raising the bottle for a long draft.

'Er, should you be-?' A look stopped her, Imoen continuing quickly 'So, what happened to your face?'

Her friend paused, her eyes clouded with an unspoken distress as she lowered the bottle. 'This act sometimes requires sacrifices…'

Imoen felt a surge of frustration; Fritha always could play the martyr.

'Well, _maybe_ we could help, if you'd let us come with you once in a while.'

Fritha sighed and took another drink.

'No, no, you are better off here… waiting for someone else to get you out.'

Imoen swallowed past the sting; she had asked for that, the girl forcing a smile and placing her hands over her ears as she sang, '_La la la_, _be as mean as you like, cause I'm not listening._'

Fritha let a half-smile curl her lips, the girl giving Imoen's white hair an affectionate flick. 'Good, don't. I am best not listened to in moods like this. I'm going to bed. Goodnight, my pet.'

Imoen watched her rise and leave, the weight her talk with Valygar had lifted now back in her stomach, dull and heavy.

'_My pet_. It used to be 'friend'. You know who she is starting to remind me of?'

Valygar could guess though he let her say it anyway, her eyes narrowed as she stared at the closed door.

'Phaere.'

xxx

Anomen watched the fight that was coming to a close in the pit below him. The male was badly wounded, the deep gash across his shoulder and chest making his swings slow and clumsy. It was only a matter of time now, and his opponent knew it, the girl edging around him, a look of intense concentration upon her face that was disturbingly familiar. And she was not the only one, the crowds that had gathered around him watching the fight with the same intensity, a charged silence over them as they waited for the final blow.

Anomen turned his back on the pit, letting his eyes scan the tavern behind him. Another day in the Underdark, everyone staying close to the tavern, bored and wary. It had been three days since their last task, Fritha describing to them her meeting with Phaere and Matron Ardulace and their group had been on leave at the inn ever since. At least, Fritha had had the occasional visit to Phaere to break up the days, the rest of them stuck in that tavern day after day, not even their subtle enquires left to break the tedium; Fritha had ordered no more mention of dragons or eggs since they had learnt of Phaere's involvement, the girl reluctant to arouse any suspicions and make an enemy of the only ally they had in that city.

As for the others, Jaheira was up in their suite as usual –she could rarely bear the crowds of the tavern- though Minsc, Valygar and Imoen were all sat about the table in the far corner, talking quietly as they nursed their drinks. Aerie and Haer'Dalis had been with them earlier, the pair joining Fritha in some of the Ust Nathan favourites, their trio sat on the other side of their table singing about the glory of destroying your enemies and sating carnal desires, before Aerie and Haer'Dalis had retired –Imoen joking that all that singing about the lust chambers had inspired a visit.

And, for a while, Fritha had seemed just as bored as the rest of them, until an hour or so ago, the female who had propositioned him the other day arriving with two men to challenge one of Fritha's males to a duel. But Fritha was not willing to let this chance for some entertainment pass her by, and took up the contest herself. The male she had agreed to battle had yielded soon enough, and Fritha had been fighting in the pit ever since, and seemingly thoroughly enjoying herself, testing her blade against the few challengers who had been foolish enough to try and earn a little glory facing Despana's new favoured female, the girl revelling in her newfound skill and the adulation of the growing crowd after each bloody victory.

Anomen glanced back down to her, the girl circling her opponent and waiting for the opening that would end the thing. She was tensed, every muscle ready to react to the slightest movement, her eyes watching the male opposite as he readied himself for that final stab at glory or death; what a change in a girl who would have once been so horrified by such needless violence. He had questioned her about it in between bouts, the girl sparing him her usual contempt to give an even shrug.

'They called it; I don't start fights, Tann, I just finish them.'

Helm's mercy; the girl he loved was dying before his very eyes.

Movement in the pit snapped his attention back to the fight, the male feinting forward, thrusting low only to sweep his blade up at the last moment, a ruse Fritha fell for though it did him no good. Her sword still low, she leaned back, using the unbalance in her stance to roll her body closer, under his guard and the small crowd of spectators roared as she slipped her blade up under his sternum, blood spattering the sand beneath. Anomen sighed; he should have just yielded when he had had the chance.

'I see your mistress is providing fair entertainment for the rest of us.'

Solaufein smiled slightly as the male he now recognised as Tann glanced up, hoping to indicate his comment had been a friendly one. But the man merely scowled at him, and Solaufein turned his attentions back to the pit where Veldrin was enjoying the applause, looking commanding and glorious, one hand still held aloft as she shook back her hair and sheathed her sword with a flourish.

'She fights hungrily. I have seen many of her skill before, but few of her thirst; she truly savours each victory.'

The girl found them in the sea of faces to flash Solaufein a grin and a wink, and next to him Tann shifted, his face set. Solaufein was popular enough to recognise _that_ resentment.

'You were her favoured once, were you not?'

Tann glanced to him sharply, frowning again, though seemingly more from confusion than anger and Solaufein elaborated, 'She favoured you above the other males of her company, yes?'

He had asked out of a sense of commiseration, but his question was not taken so.

'I will not speak of this with you,' Tann muttered, turning back to the pit to open the gate as Veldrin tripped up the steps towards them.

'Still sulking, Tann?' she questioned brightly as she stepped through the gateway, her face shining with her exertions and her victory both. 'Now, do not let your brooding colour Solaufein's good humour.'

Solaufein nodded his greeting. 'You fight well.'

'You should see me dance,' she laughed teasingly, giving the gash on her arm an indifferent poke, 'He was better than the last few, at least. But how about a duel, Solaufein? It need not be to the death.'

'I fear I save my blade for my enemies only.'

Her smile was gone in an instant, her sigh tired and heavy with ennui. 'Phaere is right; you _are_ dull. But our mistress has a task for us, yes?'

Solaufein nodded stiffly, her insult slight enough to pass, but not without a sting. 'She would have you meet her-'

'Veldrin,' called the voice that was always sure to put his teeth on edge and Solaufein glanced around to see her saunter in to the tavern: Phaere.

She was smiling, anguine and broad, everyone looking round at her entrance. She was a powerful female in that city and they all knew it; females watching her pass with covetous eyes, while the males seemed to straighten, striving to be noticed without actually being seen to invite her attentions and presuming enough to earn them a trip to the Handmaidens.

'Veldrin, I am pleased to see you are enjoying your rest time,' Phaere glanced pointedly to the bloody pit where two attendants were clearing away the latest body, 'and so fruitfully too. And Solaufein is here as well? How unusual; I thought you preferred to spend you free time sulking in your chambers.'

Solaufein felt the old hatred rear back. 'Of course I am here! You sent me to bring Veldrin to you!'

'Yes, and then I decide to come myself, _male,_ so mind your tone. We will take a table.'

Veldrin nodded politely, leading them over to the table where her companions were already seated, the girl calling for more drinks as she, Solaufein and Phaere took their seats.

'So this is your group then…' Phaere continued once they were all settled, her pale blue eyes travelling over those about her. 'Indeed, I recognise some of them from my rescue, though not all of them appear to be here.'

'The others are in the lust chambers,' offered the young Haliue with a grin.

Phaere raised an eyebrow. 'Oh, do you often let others speak for you, Veldrin?'

Haliue dipped her face as Veldrin sent her a _very_ cold look.

'_No_, I do _not_. But she speaks the truth, however out of turn.'

'A pity,' sighed Phaere, looking anything but disappointed by the trouble she was stirring. 'I recall one with such a tousled shock of hair who was _very_ pleasing to look upon. Still, your other males seem capable enough.' Phaere smiled, letting her eyes rake keenly over the three men sat about her.

Veldrin merely shrugged. 'They serve their purpose.'

Solaufein watched the males. He would have expected them to be eagerly encouraging the attentions of a powerful female such as Phaere, but all kept their gazes fixed firmly on the table; Veldrin had a tight hold on them, it seemed. This lack of interest had clearly irritated Phaere, the woman's tone suddenly brusque as she returned her attention to Veldrin.

'Well, enough of this. My spies have reported back with intelligence indicating that their may be three suitable sources for the Elder Blood we require, from the creatures that hold territories neighbouring onto our own. The nearest Beholder warrens apparently have an Elder Orb residing within them, one of the Kuo-Toa tribes are under the rule of the mad prince who will serve just as well and, of course, the Illithid city to the east have their Hive Mind. Here are maps showing the locations; the closest is half a day's travel from here, though it will undoubtedly take longer to infiltrate the place.' Phaere placed the scroll of velum into Veldrin's waiting hands, her manner grave. 'You know what is required, Veldrin, and what is expected of you.'

Veldrin nodded once.

'Tann, Nydren, go and fetch the others; we leave within the hour.'


	90. A dagger of the mind

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Baldur's Gate', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

_Author's note: I feel I should mention here, that the following chapter, while not strong enough to warrant an increase in rating, does contain some scenes that some readers might find more mature in content. If anyone feels this may offend them, then please just PM me and I will send you the 'aeroplane edit'._

**A dagger of the mind**

Fritha kept her eyes down, tracing over the back of the two dark hands she had rested on her bent knees. They had been there so long now, she felt as though she had committed every inch of that cramped room to memory. It was a good thing they were drow or she doubted they would have all fit inside, the room made up of three curved walls and two plain doors: one solid, the other barred and leading into the cell next door and, most importantly, both locked. Everything barring the doors was covered in mottled stone tiles of blues, pinks and greens that made her head ache to look at too long, almost as though colours were ever so subtly moving. Not that Fritha had any reason to look up; the scene had not changed since they had awoken there. The seven angry scowls borne solely for her, the air clouded with animosity, so thick Fritha fancied she could taste it; a bitter mist of heavy pointed sighs.

They had been just outside the city gates when Fritha had told them she had decided where they would be harvesting the Elder Blood. The others had tried to dissuade her, had said the Kuo-Toa or Beholders would prove easier targets, but Fritha would not hear of it. She knew what would curry the most favour with Phaere, knew just how she would present her prize to Ardulace and her daughter, and no one was going to rob her of that advantage.

Which is why they were now languishing in an Illithid cell and everyone was quite content, some could even say _obliged_, to blame her. The voice behind her eyes trilled a kindly laugh.

_Now, did we forget the teachings of the sages so soon? Pride cometh before a fall._

Fritha allowed herself a smile, comforted by the camaraderie of it; the Illithids would get such a prize in her, two minds for the capture of one.

**…**

Jaheira stared up at the tiled ceiling, the others sat in silence about her, their stance and outlook just as bleak as her own as they awaited their inevitable meeting with the Illithids. They had been imprisoned just as they had been taken, no attempt made to disarm them, though it made little difference. To meet them in the Underdark would have been unfortunate enough, but to be caught there in their hive, where the creatures could communicate telepathically over distance and slay with but a thought…

At best, they would be made thralls, at worst, they'd be food. Jaheira sighed; they were the walking dead.

The druid leaned back and let her gaze drift about her. She had a place on the long stone bench that ran along the back of the room, Imoen, Valygar and Anomen taking up the rest. Aerie and Haer'Dalis had found a place at her feet, the tiefling leaning back against the wall and gently stroking the head laid in his lap, Minsc on Aerie's other side. And furthest from them all sat Fritha, in the far corner on the other side of the room, her back resting on the door to the adjoining cell, eyes downcast and mouthing in silent conversation with herself. The druid watched her smile and a voice at her side, shrill with anger, cut through the heavy stillness.

'How can you sit there _smirking_ after what you've done?'

Jaheira winced. Imoen in her new guise, her slight frame no longer huddled next to her, but sat up, dark face alight with anger and streaked with frustrated tears. Fritha was staring back at her impassively and Jaheira knew this would be it; the thing had been building between the pair for too long now for this to be defused peaceably, though she felt it was her duty to try, gently placing an arm across the girl's shoulders.

'Now, Imoen-'

Imoen shrugged her off, an accusatory finger thrown at the girl opposite. 'You've doomed us all! We all wanted to go after one of the easier marks, but, no, you insisted we hunt the Illithids and now look what's happened!'

'Imoen,' interrupted Aerie, glancing warily between the girl and Fritha as though worried one of them would suddenly explode with the avatar of a dead god, 'Fritha did not know this would happen. We should all just calm down, blaming each other will help no one.'

Imoen did not hide her scorn. 'Oh, Aerie, save your spineless 'let's all be friends' rubbish for the circus!'

'Do not speak to her like that!' snapped Haer'Dalis.

'Imoen is merely voicing her opinion,' interrupted Valygar sternly and in a manner that indicated he could feel quite a bit of sympathy for it, 'No one is attacking Aerie.'

'No, you're just attacking Fritha!'

'And so what if we are?' snapped Imoen, whirling back to the girl still hunched in the corner before them, her attention returned to her knees. 'You've been like this for days now, swaggering about like you're Bhaal Himself. Well, you're not! This is your fault, Fritha! Don't you care? Don't you care you've murdered us all? _Say something!_'

Silence. Fritha was still gazing down at her hands, looking small and frail and, for a moment, Jaheira thought she would finally let them in, her voice hoarse and trembling with emotion.

'I've read so many books like this; where the hero has lost their path and suddenly realises the error of their ways. They always say something like, _"Ugh, I've been such a fool, pushing you all away, making things worse; please forgive me…"_

Fritha looked up, her face twisting with a sneer as she spat the words at them.

'But this isn't a book and I don't feel like that, so _sod off!_'

Imoen's stricken cry pierced Jaheira to her heart. 'Anomen was right; you _are_ a monster!'

'Imoen!' shouted the knight, Minsc looking just as horrified.

'Girls, Boo says we must not fight!'

But Fritha was shaking her head, eyes still fixed on her friend as she made to rise.

'Oh really? A monster, is it? Well, just be thankful one of us is! You may cry on about me being hard and cruel and some terrible beast of a person; well, I wonder how long we would have lasted if I was being as _pathetic_ as the rest of you.'

'And how would you know?' demanded Valygar, 'You never allow us to leave the inn.'

'Well, haven't _you_ changed your song?' Fritha laughed bitterly, 'You said it yourself, Valygar: what are we willing to do to _fit in?_ Anomen and Jaheira know what it takes. How easy it is to sit there and judge! To watch as your enemy dies a sword's length away –how nice! Not for you the intimacy; the body grasped to yours, both locked in frantic embrace as you wait to hear that _snap!_ I am your monster and your saviour both! Look upon my darkness as you follow me to the light; shake your heads in disappointment as you trample the bodies of my fallen; revile me even as you _fall_ to your knees in tearful gratitude! _I am your-_'

'So, we were not the only ones to be caught in the Illithids' web.'

Her tirade died in an instant, Fritha whirling to meet the sallow angular face that had appeared at the twisting bars of the adjoining cell, his voice undulating with an alien accent and ironic humour both. 'Greetings, blade-thieves, I thought we had lost you to the sahuagin's feasthall, though I see you sport different skins now.'

Fritha sighed deeply. 'Oh, _arse! _Look, I know you lot are all hell-bent on _revenge_, but this really isn't a good time for us_._'

The githyanki captain nodded solemnly.

'No, nor we, but destiny has bound us in the same fate. We of the Githyanki attempted to planeshift, but our ship was caught in the Illithids' psionic webs. Now we are forced to fight for the Illithids' enjoyment. These seven are all that is left of our crew. We are just returned from the fighting pit and we hear from the jailer that we two groups are scheduled to fight next.'

Fritha just barked a bitter laugh. 'Well, at least you'll get something out of it: the killing of your _blade-thieves_ and in front of a crowd too. Of course, you might not win…'

'We will no longer fight for the enjoyment of our most hated enemies!' roared a voice from somewhere behind him. The captain barked something in his own guttural tongue into the cell at his back and all fell silent once more. Fritha sighed as he returned his attention to her.

'So, what now then?'

The captain sent her a critical frown. 'We of the Githyanki bear a special hatred for the Illithids, one that overrides the blood-debt between us… for now. Should we join as allies, we may be able to find away from this place, where one would have failed.'

Fritha turned back to those behind her, a room of people she had not long ago been screaming at, and gave a contemplative shrug.

'What do we think then?'

A round of glances followed by a scattering of tentative nods; Fritha turned back to the door.

'All right then, what's the plan?'

'As you likely know, the Illithids are strong here in their home. They have the power to slay at will and escape is impossible. But we of the Githyanki have power of our own and I believe we may be able to disrupt the Illithids and allow another to make an escape. When we are called to battle, we of the Githyanki will meditate within the arena, pushing back the minds of the Illithids and holding them still. You may then open the arena doors and make your escape. We will keep them distracted as you search their twisted city. Kill the Hive Mind and the Illithids' power will be gone, all doors will be freed and the path out, both astral and physical, will be opened.'

Fritha nodded once. 'You're on.'

The captain showed her a mouthful of pointed uneven teeth in what could have been his attempt at a smile.

'Then ready yourselves; the time for battle is at hand.'

**…**

Long tense moments in that dark tunnel cramped together waiting, a nervous energy building between them. Anomen was close behind her and Fritha would have told him to step back had she thought enough about it. The portcullis rose, the ogre thrall pressing them forward with a grunt and suddenly they were out, the arena stretching above her, row upon row of squirming faces staring down at them as the Githyanki filtered in similarly from other side. The thing that struck Fritha was the silence, not the fervent roar of the bloodthirsty crowds, the air instead thrummed with a quiet chittering, just on the edge of her hearing, as though it was bypassing her ears to hum across her brain.

The Githyanki were taking up their positions on the other side of the arena, Fritha deploying her own group with a few barked orders, the chatter to the air finally fading in anticipation of the command that echoed through her mind.

_FIGHT!_

And fight they did, but not each other, the Githyanki immediately dropping to their knees, the air vibrating as they pushed back the minds of the Illithids. Panic in the stands, the creatures gliding hastily to the exits, some clearly sending out orders while they could, the gates at the far end of the arena swinging back as three umberhulks pounded into their midst.

'Valygar, Minsc, get on the gates,' Fritha shouted, throwing a hand to the large wooden doors behind her that had yet to have some foe sent through, 'The rest of us protect the Githyanki.'

Fritha ducked, thrusting at the narrow chink between the sections of armoured carapace, the creature moving just in time, sending her blow glancing off its shell, Haer'Dalis on its other side trying the same. Anomen and Jaheira were having far more luck than she, stave and mace causing damage wherever they landed, Aerie and Imoen behind them calling their magics. One umberhulk was already on its back, the unpleasant scent of burnt hair lingering about them.

A shout from Jaheira and a second of the creatures met its end, a vicious jab crushing its small mandible-dominated face. Fritha danced back as the umberhulk took a swipe at her, its attack finally giving Haer'Dalis the chance he needed, the creature screeching as he drove the two short blades in between the thick armour plates, and hurriedly withdrawing them again as the creature rolled on its side.

Behind them, Valygar and Minsc had just managed to unbar the gates, their smaller forms making it all the more difficult even if their previous strength seemed unaffected. Fritha glanced back, the Githyanki now seemingly protected by their own psionic bubble –they looked as safe as anything was in that place.

'Fritha!'

She followed them, racing down the narrowing corridor to pile through the small door at the end, Valygar slamming the door shut behind them, looking as though he would have liked to bar it as well, though there was no lock. The room was little more interesting than the cell they had left, just a small circular chamber, three doors leading from it, Fritha moving to the centre already giving her orders.

'Right, we need to find a way to the Hive Mind. Aerie can- _What?_' she cried, frustrated as she finally turned back to see the gathering of wary faces, 'Gods, are you all _still_ angry at me, because this really isn't the time.'

Jaheira stepped forward to broker the peace. 'Now, Fritha, we are not angry-'

'The Hells we aren't!' snapped Imoen, 'The way you've been treating us lately -screaming at us back there, just leaving us to rot in that inn, while you go skipping about the city with Phaere!'

Fritha snorted. 'Oh, come off it! Phaere calls me and I go. And why should I take you along? Quite apart from the fact you spoke out of turn within mere _moments_ of meeting the woman, the more of us out of the inn, the greater the risk of us being discovered. I call upon you when I've need.'

'So you just _use_ us?'

'Oh, grow up, Imoen,' sighed Aerie, 'that is what leaders do.'

'Yeah, and just look at where she's led us!'

'Yes, and now I'm getting you out.'

Imoen's scornful laugh rang about the small chamber. 'Ha! If it weren't for those Githyanki, we'd still be stuck in that cell! You've done nothing!'

Fritha quirked a knowing smile that was sure to infuriate her. 'Haven't I? The Fates will provide, Imoen.'

'Stop _saying_ that!' the girl shrieked, 'You're not special, you're just a- a monster!'

'Imoen!' shouted Anomen, looking furious that his one worst indiscretion would not be allowed to fade. But Fritha just laughed gently.

'Don't worry, Anomen, you can't keep parroting the same insult and expect it to have the same sting. Truth be told, there was only _one_ instance when that word hurt. Besides,' she sighed, sheathing her sword as though resigned to having to delay their escape for an explanation, 'I am not a monster. But this place requires a certain act, and I do not think you like that I make it look so effortless.' She shook her head. 'I am sorry I brought this doom upon us; you think it arrogance, but Phaere will hold a special hatred for the Illithids since they shamed her with capture, as will her mother on whom all humiliations reflect –a strike against the Illithids will bring great favour with our only allies, and it is favour we need if we are to find those eggs.'

'Then why didn't you just _tell_ us that?' cried Imoen. Fritha shrugged.

'I seem to recall a time when the others, at least, trusted me. Perhaps I am mistaken -the memories are fading…'

'Oh, Fritha,' Anomen sighed. The girl's face was hard once more.

'Save your whimpering; it helps no one. We are wasting time- Aerie, can you summon some sort of map of this place?'

The elf shook her head. 'I'm sorry, I think there may be too much latent energy in the air already for me to be able to summon a clear plan –oh, but I might be able to create a compass that will lead us to the source of great psionic energy nearby. It should lead us to the Hive Mind.'

'Wonderful. Imoen help her. The rest of us-'

Her command was lost as the door behind them flew open, a brief glimpse of the arena showing the Githyanki still knelt in ritual before the doorway was filled by their ogre jailor, the creature joined by two Kuo-Toan thralls as they burst into the room. Aerie and Imoen hurried back, letting the others rush forward to meet the creatures as they worked on the spell, the elf trying to block out the sounds of the battle as she worked.

'Jaheira, at your flank!'

'I see it. Minsc, will you mind your backswing!'

Imoen was at her shoulder, watching as Aerie drew the runes straight onto her palm.

'The rune for _power_, then _mind_, then _attune_-'

'Try the one for _focus_, it might work better –here,' a tingle as Imoen quickly sketched it onto her palm, the power in her hand growing with every symbol.

'How are we doing there, Aerie?' Fritha panted, the elf glancing up to see her turned to face them, Anomen and Valygar shoving the bodies back out into the arena as Minsc waited to shut the door.

One final rune, a flash of energy and it was done.

'Right, I think we've got it,' Aerie announced, a golden arrow of light floating above her raised palm. 'It's pointing northwest.'

'Of course,' snorted Valygar, 'the one direction there isn't a door.'

Fritha shrugged. 'Right, north it is then.'

The Illithids seemed to have marshalled their forces in the time this had taken though, umberhulks and other thralls released throughout the complex, the group battling onward, the occasional Illithid caught in the mêlée, seemingly more by accident than intention –Fritha could not imagine that the creatures would willingly enter battle without their psionic abilities.

'Hurry!' shouted Minsc, Fritha just whipping through as he slammed the door shut on the two remaining umberhulks, the surface shaking as the creatures collided with it and then all fell silent.

They were in yet another circular chamber now, though it was thankfully empty, unlike the last three had been, all of them cut and bruised from their running battle. Two doorways were leading from the other side, Aerie and Haer'Dalis already before them trying to decide the way, Imoen hovering behind Valygar and Jaheira as the woman prepared to relocate his shoulder.

'Minsc, come here, I need something for him to brace against.'

Minsc smiled to her as he passed, Fritha sending a glance to the door behind, before turning her attention to her arm, blood running from some unseen wound to patter on the tiles beneath.

'Do we know the way yet, Aerie?' she asked absently, wondering if the cut was worth the hassle of removing her shoulder guard, the metal easily parted by the umberhulk's long claws.

'Ah, not quite yet…'

'Should we even be doing this?' asked Imoen of the room, 'Getting the blood for Ardulace, I mean. They _are_ going to use it to summon this ally and attack the surface.'

Fritha shrugged mentally, trying to worm a finger into the gash in her armour to assess the wound beneath.

'The only thing keeping us alive at the moment is our alliance with Despana. We go back in failure and we go back dead. Besides,' she sighed, giving up on her arm –it had already stopped bleeding, 'for all we know, this is but one of many ingredients; we want to stay in the city long enough to locate the eggs, then we need to follow orders.'

Fritha turned with the intention to join Aerie at the doors, only to walk straight into Anomen, his new form shorter than hers by a disturbing inch, though the look of insipid worry on his face was more than familiar.

'Your arm, Fritha.'

'It's nothing.'

'Perhaps-' he ventured, moving to take it. She wrenched it back with a pain that flared all along the limb.

'I _said_ it's nothing!'

She turned her back on him, no longer wanting to speak with Aerie or anyone else, the girl walking a few paces to linger on an empty side of the room, her mind providing her with any company she desired.

_Gods, one moment when you're not telling him what a snivelling _dog_ he is and he thinks it's all forgiven between you. And I can't _believe_ they fell for your apology._

'I wasn't lying; I am sorry they feel this way. They don't understand what this place requires… perhaps it is better off that they don't.'

_Now don't start on with that, petal; that slave, those pit fighters, they asked for all you brought them -as did this lot here today._

'Oh, don't,' muttered Fritha, her embarrassment surfacing anew as she recalled her tirade of self-proclaimed divinity.

_Come now, you have to admit it was pretty funny. Where did all that come from?_

'Oh, I don't know. I don't even believe half of it. I'm just glad the captain interrupted me before I screamed claims of my shining divinity.'

Warm laughter behind her eyes. _I am your GOD! Ah, priceless. But you could be though…_

'Fritha?'

She snapped back to find the others staring at her; more than a few of them were frowning.

'We've decided?' Fritha asked, strolling over to them. Aerie shook her head.

'I'm sorry, but I really can't tell, it just holds its point west.'

Fritha shrugged, drawing her sword to point at the north-western door. 'No matter; this one then.'

**…**

All figures whipped around as they entered, the handful of Illithids rushing vainly to meet them and protect the huge glass vat behind, scores of milky white brains suspended in the putrid grey liquid.

The fight was short and brutal, and moments later their group was standing, splattered in the milky white blood, the fallen Illithids scattered about them. Fritha sheathed her blade; her arm was bleeding again, her own mixing with the Illithid blood to trickle down her arm in rose pink paths. She smiled at the strangeness of it, and stepped forward, the words suddenly echoing across her mind and she could tell the others heard it too, a hundred voices serving one consciousness.

STOP. YOU WILL NOT HARM US. THE GITHYANKI WILL BETRAY YOU. SPARE US, KILL THEM AND WE WILL ALLOW YOU TO LEAVE.

'The Githyanki enabled this escape,' began Fritha, speaking the words aloud more for her companions' benefit that its, 'even if they try and kill me afterwards, they earned this.' A nod to the elf, 'Aerie.'

NO!

The word screamed through her mind, Fritha vaguely aware of the others doing the same as she winced, cradling her head, Aerie ignoring the pain to raise her hands. Electricity danced across the pool, the viscous liquid seething and, at last, her mind fell silent. Imoen stepped closer, peering at the steaming grey pool with revulsion, whorls of heavy white blood seeping from the brains within.

'Mmm, brain soup.'

'There,' sighed Fritha, dipping a hand in and swirling the vial it held around to ensure an even mix of liquids, the warm slime clinging to her arm as she withdrew it. 'Let's get this back to Phaere.'

A tingle behind them, the air quivering; the Githyanki had arrived.

'You have killed the Hive Mind,' confirmed the captain, without pleasure or pride, 'we are free to leave this place.'

'Well, don't let us keep you,' encouraged Imoen.

The captain made no reply, just stared about them all, eyes finally coming to rest on Fritha.

'When we next meet, we will be allies no longer.'

Fritha sighed absently, scraping the last of the slime from her arm. 'Yes, yes, see you later then.'

A puzzled frown and the Githyanki were gone. Fritha rolled her shoulders and drew her blade; they had a fight to the exit yet to face.

xxx

A day later and they were at last back in the city. Fritha left the others at the door to the inn, the girl heading straight to the Female Fighters' Society to deliver their prize. A slave showed the way, leading her up the curving stairwell to halt before the entrance to the large training hall, the room empty save for one combatant, Phaere fighting with one of the practise posts that lined the edges of the hall, a fine sheen of sweat highlighting her muscles as she ducked and parried.

'Er, mistress-'

'I _told_ you I was not to be dis- Veldrin!' Phaere cried, whirling back to find her there and suddenly she was marching over to them. 'Veldrin, you have returned! You were away some time; there were fears you had been killed.'

Fritha smiled, her reaction encouraging. 'Not killed, but captured –let us just say the devourers will not be daring to attack any daughters of Ust Natha for some time to come.'

Phaere laughed, her expression twisting back to her customary frown as her focus shifted to the slave still lingering uncertainly behind them.

'You may _leave!_ Come, Veldrin, we can speak of this in my rooms.'

**...**

Phaere whirled to her as soon as the door was shut.

'You have the blood?' Her face lighting with a before-unseen joy as Fritha handed her the vial. 'Outstanding Veldrin! We must get this to Matron Ardulace this instant.'

And Fritha sat at the table, accepting Phaere's offer to help herself to wine as woman moved into her bedroom to wash and change, Fritha describing for her their trials with the Illithids –taking care to add that they at the last betrayed their githyanki allies and left them dead in amongst the corpses of their most hated enemies. She could hear Phaere's smile a room away.

Ardulace was every bit as pleased as her daughter, though far less eager, the woman giving the vial she had been presented a modest smile before concealing it safely beneath her robes.

'You have done well, daughter; rise both of you,' she ordered mildly, Veldrin ensuring she was just a fraction behind Phaere as they moved to stand before the woman, the small library empty save for they three. 'The Spider Queen smiles upon us this day. With this the ritual may finally be begun.'

Phaere could barely contain her jubilation. 'Praise Lolth! Despana will rule Ust Natha as the greatest house in memory!'

'Indeed,' warned Ardulace soberly, 'but we must be cautious, daughter, ever cautious. There are a many within the city and without that would see us fail, and there is much still to do before our house may lead the armies to the surface.'

Fritha could taste it; the moment was finally arrived when confidence and conceit had reached their peak, her voice tempered with just the right amount of hesitance as she ventured, 'Forgive me, mistress, but what of the rumours -that the path to the surface is guarded by a dragon?'

Ardulace indulged her with a condescending laugh.

'I think you will find we have taken the tooth from her bite.' The two women shared a knowing smile, Ardulace turning to lead the way. 'Come Veldrin, you have proven yourself worthy of this honour.'

Back down to the entrance hall they went, but they did not leave the temple, the guards stepping forward to open those bright silver doors and there it was, the hall of worship, a huge circular chamber of pale lilac tiles, a stone altar set in the centre, the surface stained deep russet with centuries of sacrifices. No rituals were in session at the moment though, a scattering of acolytes supplicated before it, keeping up a constant chant of prayers and praise, the image of a spider carved from obsidian suspended above, crystal lamps reflecting on its eight ruby eyes as though it was alive, its form mirrored by the many giant spiders that spun and scuttled in the beams about it, the sacred creatures given the freedom of that holy place.

Ardulace was already moving forward and Fritha followed, trying to somehow will herself smaller, shrinking back from the consciousness that suffused that place. They did not proceed into the temple proper though, instead taking the stairs that followed the curving wall up the right of the room to a plain door, Ardulace dismissing the two Handmaidens on guard there as she brought a small golden key from her robes.

Fritha felt the magic prickle her skin as she followed her through the open doorway, the air thick with wards and a stifling heat, two golems stood on silent sentry either side of the glowing grate opposite, the small room lit by the silvery glow of the three perfect eggs. Fritha felt a smile pulling at her mouth and she let it blossom as all her hopes bore fruit. They were smaller than she would have expected, little larger than yellow-skinned melons the Athkatlans had imported from warmer Calimshan, the three packed carefully in fleece and laid side by side within a long metal case, the air about them rippling with the heat from the brazier beneath.

'There, Veldrin, our leash upon the dragon.'

Fritha moved forward a step, but went no closer, her awe one of the few genuine emotions she had expressed down there.

'They are beautiful; I look at them and I see power.'

Ardulace merely smiled, ushering them back out on to the stairs, the golden key turning in the lock to be concealed under her robes once more, before she led them back down to the entrance hall.

'I shall go now and begin the preparations. The ritual is complex and requires much planning -ah, but a few more days and we will be ready to strike!' The woman turned her attention to her and Fritha dropped her face even as she heard the cold pride swell. 'Veldrin, you have done House Despana the greatest of services and in the coming victory you will be a female without equal. But now it is time for you to celebrate; go and revel in your victory.'

The pair bowed and remained so until Ardulace had turned and left. Fritha kept her expression carefully neutral in her growing hopes, though Phaere was hardly as cautious, the woman's eyes fixed upon the closed doors and there they stayed for a long while afterwards.

xxx

All eyes snapped to her as Fritha burst through the door, two bottles of the dark wine hanging awkwardly from each hand and a grin on her face.

'Wine for everyone!'

'You have news?' pressed Jaheira as soon as the door was shut.

'Only the best! House Despana were the ones who made the deal with Irenicus, they hold the eggs even now. They're at the temple of Lolth. I've even seen them –admittedly in a room thick with wards and guarded by golems and priestesses both.'

Jaheira seemed relieved in spite of this. 'At least it is a lead.'

'Yes,' nodded Fritha, 'and with it comes a plan. With the Elder blood, they'll summon this ally –_no_, I still don't know what it is, Imoen- and when the city marches on the surface, the Matron Mothers will likely turn their attentions there and, with the eggs under less scrutiny, we can enter and steal them back.'

'But what of the elves?' asked Aerie, 'Won't that leave them to battle the drow and this ally?'

'Well, I'm sure they can hold their own for a while, until we give Adalon her eggs, and then she can help them if she wants.' Fritha sighed, her good humour waning in face of their doubts. 'I know it's not the greatest plan, but it is the best hope we have of making it out of here in one piece. Come on now, help me open this wine.'

It was not much to celebrate, but with everything that had happened lately, all seemed willing to see the best in it. Fritha quickly retired to her room to wash and change, and something of her old self seemed to have returned as she padded back through, barefoot in deep ink blue trousers and her favourite green jerkin, the girl sat on the sofa, one leg pulled under her, as she laughed at Imoen and Haer'Dalis.

'So, what _are_ the lust chambers actually like then?' the girl teased. Haer'Dalis's expression was carefully neutral.

'I surely would not know, my robin.'

'Oh, did Aerie not take _you?_ Aerie, I'm impressed.'

'Really, Imoen,' the elf laughed airily, 'if you are _that_ curious you should merely visit them yourself.'

Imoen grinned. 'You're right, Aerie; how about it, Vals?'

Valygar choked on his wine, though whether from her wink or her nickname it was hard to determine.

'_Vals?_'

Imoen was nodding brightly. 'Yeah, I think it suits you, brings out a more carefree side to your character.'

'You have a more carefree side?' muttered Anomen. Valygar shrugged.

'Not that I was aware.'

Fritha smiled, ruffling the girl's hair. 'Sorry, Imoen, I don't think it will stick and, besides, that nickname is already taken by young Valsben of Imnesvale.'

'Gods, Fritha, not another of your admirers, I hope; I'll be counting them on my toes soon.'

Fritha laughed along with everyone else, shaking her head. 'No, no, he was a little young yet for me –though his fiancée took quite the shine to Anomen.'

Imoen sent the knight a sneer. 'By Mask, was she mad?'

'I wondered the very same myself, my lady,' he quipped, and even Imoen could not begrudge him a smile as those about them laughed.

The knock at the door almost drowned in the noise of it. Fritha was still smiling as she rose for it, the girl having a quick conversation with whoever was on the other side and the room behind her was silent as she shut it again, marching past their inquiring looks to disappear into her own chamber.

'Fritha?' call Imoen, thrusting her wine at Valygar as she made to stand and follow, when Fritha reappeared in the doorway looking grave. Her boots were back on, the girl busy strapping her long dagger to her hip. Jaheira frowned.

'Fritha?'

'It was a messenger from Phaere. I am to attend a gathering tonight at House Despana. The male is waiting outside to accompany me.'

Imoen's look of disappointment could have broken a drider's black heart.

'You're going out?'

'That's what I said, didn't I?'

'You're going to a party,' the girl glanced about the rest of them before confirming, 'with _Phaere?_'

Fritha sighed tersely. '_Yes_, with Phaere. Is there problem?'

'_No_, I was just wondering when she became your new best friend.'

'Probably about the time you lot became so fucking annoying.'

'Oh, yeah? Who died and made you Bitch Queen of the Realms?'

'Well, I would say Jaheira, but here she is, whole and hale before us. _Look_,' Fritha snapped over the predictable cries of her name, 'I cannot refuse Phaere and we all know it. Why do you lot always have to be so bloody difficult?'

'Because we're worried!' cried Imoen.

'At least, allow someone to accompany you,' reasoned Anomen.

'No, you are all rubbish at this!' Fritha held up a hand to continue over the cries of outrage, 'With the exception of Aerie and Haer'Dalis, and I have no reason to take a male when there will be so many there anyway, and I have no idea what entertainment they will be laying on at this thing –I don't quite trust Aerie's wholehearted participation if we're going to an orgy of torture and tight trousers. I'm going to this gathering and I'm going alone, so you're just going to have to get on with it!'

A room of downcast faces. Fritha sighed, seemingly wrestling with herself as she added, 'We _are_ getting closer, just- just try to enjoy the rest of your evening.'

A moment to turn and straighten, the girl shaking back her long white hair with an imperious toss of her head and she was reaching for the door, Veldrin once more.

xxx

'There, mistress, that platform houses Ust Natha's first and greatest mage academy –it is said the founder created the whole building in but a day with his sorceries, though it was so many centuries ago and none still live to confirm it.'

Fritha said nothing, merely nodded for him to continue. Her escort was quite chatty once he realised that daring to speak to her was not going to be rewarded by some harsh dismissal or worse, the messenger showing her the sights of his native city as they made their way to the seat of House Despana -speaking of which.

'And there, mistress,' he continued, pointing to the large stalactite before them, the tip descending well bellow the level of the walkway to be lost to the darkness, 'That is where the mighty House Despana holds it power. The house was founded…'

Fritha let his noise wash over her, glad to be able to put off her act for a few more blissful moments. There were many who could have said that she was born to this role, but it was hard all the same, showing even the harsher side to her nature an effort in the growing void within, and something not made any easier by the constant and very obvious disappointment she saw in the others each time she did.

They reached the entrance and the messenger fell silent once more, pounding the large metal ring three times into the stone door, a slave appearing to show her through to a large, well, throne room for want of a better word, beautiful crystal lamps suspended above, the bright mosaic of purple, black and gold spiders winking underfoot. The hall was crowded with drow, slaves moving among them with trays of silver cups, the gathering looking all the greater, reflected as it was by the band of polished obsidian tiles that encircled the smooth walls. There was a dais set at the far end, a large throne in the centre, still empty even now –a deference to Matron Ardulace, she suspected- an arrangement of smaller chairs set about it where a group of clearly high ranking females were seated, watching the throng, Phaere at their centre and smiling as she saw her.

'Veldrin, you have arrived. Excellent, now our celebrations may truly begin.' She stood, nodding to the guards at the door, the men leaving at her gesture. 'My mother has a gift for us, Veldrin, a reward for our service. And here arrives our entertainment,' Phaere continued, raising her voice for the ears of all, the crowds falling back to the edges of the room, a thrill of anticipation lighting more than one face as the guards led two pale-skinned surfacer elves towards the dais, battered and bloodied, but still quite whole, the men stripped of their armour and weapons, and Fritha felt an icy dread fill her stomach. Phaere smiled, retaking her seat and gesturing to the empty chair beside her for Fritha to do the same.

'Theses two were taken by our scouts in one of our initial raids. We brought them to our fair city that they may get a taste of the Ust Nathan hospitality we will be bringing to their city.'

A murmur of grim laughter travelled the room. The two elves either did not understand drow or were merely trained to ignore them, the elder of the two staring up at Phaere from the foot of the steps, his face set with a stern pride, his younger companion trying to affect the same, the soft glow of the lamps glistening on his sweating skin; he was barely more than a boy and he was clearly terrified -something in which Phaere was taking great pleasure.

'Listen to me, surfacers,' she continued in elven, Fritha knowing enough of the tongue from her studies to understand her. 'You will now fight each other for our entertainment.'

'The elves will never raise a hand against their kin,' barked the elder warrior. Phaere laughed, his defiance merely prolonging her pleasure.

'Oh, but fight you will. The pale elves and their nobility: so easy to manipulate. You will fight and attempt to kill your young brother here, if only to spare him from a worse fate. The victor of the bout is to be tortured to death in sacrifice to the glory of Lolth. Guards, a sword for each of them. Now take your positions.'

Fritha watched, her face a mirror of those about her, an eager smile plastered to it as she tried not to twitch with every blow. The elves duelled with a fierce speed, even the younger one focused as they each fought to spare the other from such a fate, and Fritha wondered if either of them had ever wanted a kill more. She felt sick.

_Not long now, petal, just keep still, not much longer…_

The elder elf feinted left, not even bothering to guard against the slash to his leg as he brought his sword up and the lad coughed up a shower of blood, the liquid pattering on the tiles like a scattered applause as the blade pierced his lung.

He collapsed to the ground, his killer falling soon after him through more from a wretched exhaustion than any physical wound, the elf gazing down at the blade he still grasped as though contemplating using it on himself when the two guards were upon him, wrestling it from his hand, the sword clattering to the tiles as they dragged him to his feet and back to the dais, strong hands at his neck forcing him to kneel before his patron. Phaere smiled generously.

'Very good, surfacer, you truly seemed to savour the kill; perhaps you were not such good friends as we had first assumed.'

'Black-hearted monster! I spit on your name and your goddess both!'

'Take him to the temple,' snapped Phaere, 'I want to hear his screams all the way from the altar.'

Fritha watched as the guards hauled him upright, a nervous fear twitching in her heart.

_Now, Fritha, petal, there isn't anything you can do for him- Fritha- Fritha, no!'_

She turned to Phaere.

'He fought well. Perhaps, I should escort him with them; it would not do for our prize to escape his captors and get loose in the city.'

The woman smiled. 'Well thought, Veldrin, you may go.'

Fritha nodded her bow, rising to trip quickly down the steps and catch up the guards who were roughly escorting him out, the elf dragging his heels and struggling vainly, his efforts making it all the simpler.

_Fool! Don't do this! You'll kill us all!_

'Move your feet, filth!' she snapped, striking him sharply between the shoulder blades, the guards unprepared for this shift in weight and he dropped forcibly to his knees –just at the point where lay his dead friend. His reflexes were keen, the discarded blade suddenly in his hand and he had straightened, cutting the nearest guard from groin to chin before any could react.

But _she_ was not so caught out, her dagger already singing through the air, his bright red blood arcing out like a fountain as she cut his throat.

'Well struck!' cried the guard behind her. Fritha whirled to him, the hatred _very_ easy to come by.

'Bite your tongue! I should have cut lower; he may have lived to meet the Handmaidens yet!'

Phaere nodded succinctly, sauntering down from the dais with a commanding smile. 'True enough, Veldrin, but you reacted quickly and well. Guard, remove the bodies –their sight sickens me.'

**…**

Fritha leaned back in her chair, taking a long draft of wine and feeling very much outside of things as she watched the people about her laugh and talk. Musicians, all slaves, had been brought in after the _entertainment_ had finished, the beat-heavy, undulating music filling the room and the majority of guests were lost in dance, her eyes drawn to the dark stain that lingered in the centre of the hall, the chaos of feet tramping indifferently over it doing nothing to help it fade.

Fritha did not feel bad; she felt nothing and that was even more worrying, the weight of her actions hanging on her, a dull burden upon her heart. She knew what she had done was wrong, an awful, terrible thing, but she had done it for the right reason. At least, she thought so, but without any feelings on the matter, guilt or otherwise, she was finding it hard to decide. An evil for a good; did that mean it somehow cancelled out? That she did not feel bad because, indeed, she should not? She did not know –yet.

Oh, there were such things to look forward to should she eventually get back her soul.

'Veldrin,' called a voice somewhere to her left, Fritha straightened as the crowds parted before Phaere, two males following in her wake and Fritha recognised one as the short well-muscled man from her bedroom days before.

'Veldrin, are you still over here sulking?' the woman laughed, 'Come now, I know you desired to see that elf dragged screaming to the Handmaidens, but your instincts do you credit. Here, this will help you to a better mind. Yajei.'

Phaere looked to the well-muscled man at her side, the male producing a small vial of clear liquid from his pocket and placing a few drops upon his tongue, Phaere already upon him, their mouths closing in a hungry kiss. The long-haired male on Phaere's other side was holding a similar bottle, the man letting a few drops fall onto his waiting tongue with an expectant look. Fritha rolled her eyes, impatiently snatching the vial from him.

It was very sweet, like syrup only much less viscous, as thin even as the rum she had long left behind. She ran her tongue over her teeth, the feel of the smooth slick ivory somehow more intense and she was suddenly very aware of the hairs that were just brushing her shoulders and the jerkin that clung to her back and the heart that was beating in time with the music. Phaere was leaning on the male, Yajei, a feline smile gracing her features as she watched her.

'There now, Veldrin, is that better?'

Fritha nodded, suddenly unable to stop grinning. Phaere laughed.

'Good. And now we dance.'

Fritha had lost all track of time. She was vaguely aware of the others leaving the dance floor, though Phaere had made no indication that she wanted her to follow and Fritha had stayed there, losing herself to the rhythm as she swayed and spun, enjoying the sense of closeness with the strangers who moved similarly about her, all one within the music. The crowds shifted and, every now and then, and she would catch a glimpse of Phaere, reclined upon her chair like a queen as various males and the occasional female waited upon her every whim. Fritha felt herself smile as she turned and was faced with her own reflection in the polished obsidian panels that lined the hall. It seemed not even Adalon's power could disguise the true nature of her hair, the straight downy tresses reverting to frizzy curls in the humidity.

She turned and dipped to the music, letting it fly about her as it willed and catching Phaere's eye in the process, the woman straightening slightly to beckon her across.

'Veldrin, you have been upon the floor for hours now –such endurance; you put my males to shame.'

Fritha just smiled, brushing the untamed tangle of curls back from her face.

'I like to dance.'

'Indeed, though your hair seems to disagree… Galinid, give Veldrin your tie.'

The long-haired male did as he was told, loosing his hair from the bright green cord to hand it to her, not foolish enough to presume to help her himself after before –the men of the drow learnt quickly.

'So,' continued Phaere, watching as Fritha combed her hair through with her fingers and deftly tied it back, 'how are you enjoying our entertainments here in Ust Natha; are we outshone by Ched Nasad?'

Fritha was already shaking her head 'No, no, not even close. I feel… I feel whole.' She laughed, suddenly filled with a wild joy that no charade, however vital, could quell, 'I feel _whole__!_'

**…**

Fritha stretched where she was sitting, shifting to throw her legs over one armrest and lean back against the other. She was tired, her previous instance of ruthless mercy still gnawing at her and she had not even herself for company –her mind still refusing to speak to her since their little _disagreement_. The stimulants had worn off at about the same time the gathering had finally disbanded, Fritha going with Phaere and an _honoured_ few upstairs to continue the revels. A burst of laughter from the group of males playing some sort of dice game by the firepit, their small company kept in constant flux by the demands of the females around them, the men being called away to pour wine or accompany a woman into one of the various adjoining rooms. They had seemed just as happy to attend to her earlier on, but she was not even drinking now and had no need of anyone but Phaere, the woman disappearing an hour ago with her current favourite and another male who Fritha did not know, and Fritha did not dare leave without at least informing her.

She closed her eyes and just managed to suppress a yawn. She never thought anything could be more boring than Deril's party, but here she was. At least, her feet didn't hurt.

'Veldrin,' came that familiar voice, Phaere appearing in the doorway opposite and only half dressed, no sign of her men and Fritha suspected this appearance was but a break between bouts. 'Veldrin,' she purred, closing to her and Fritha rose instinctively, the woman letting a hand trail down the side of her face. 'My beautiful Veldrin, the jewel of Ched Nasad. You are enjoying the celebrations?

'Yes, indeed,' she lied. Phaere smiled, lightly patting her cheek.

'You look weary, my pet, you should return to your quarters at the inn. I may well have a task for you tomorrow and it would not do for you to be tired. Alak, Tebryn, you will escort her.'

xxx

Jaheira pushed the steamed molluscs about her plate, no stomach for breakfast even when it had been _she_ who had insisted they all go down to the tavern as usual, the sounds of the others eating about her grating on her already fraught nerves. She had tried to wait up for her the night before, as the others had trailed reluctantly off to their beds, Anomen finding her asleep on the sofa early that morning, the man grimly informing her he had checked her room and Fritha was still not returned.

One by one the others had rejoined them in the suite's common room to hold a nervous meeting. It was hard, assuaging their worries when still so riddled with her own, Jaheira assuring a distraught Imoen that if something had happened to her friend, then someone would have at least arrived to tell them by now, if not to secure their arrest. The best thing they could do was just to act as though everything was normal –the irony of such words not lost on the druid as she sat there in the body of a drow, in a city leagues beneath the ground.

The creak of the doors, every head at their table whipping to the sound and the relief over them was tangible as Fritha entered with two men, the girl laughing at something one of them had said, leaning closer as though to kiss him when instead she slapped him sharply across the face. Neither he nor his friend were offended though, the men smiling broadly as they bowed and together left, Fritha turning to swagger up to their table and throw herself into the nearest empty chair.

Jaheira barely trusted herself to speak, her voice holding none of the cold indifference she usually tried to express as she sighed, 'Veldrin, you were away all night; where have you _been?_'

Fritha merely shrugged, nodding her thanks to Haer'Dalis as the man passed her a cup of ale.

'Told you, a party -though I suppose it was more of an orgy towards the end.' She yawned widely and rubbed the back of her neck. 'Quite boring actually. The gathering itself though was enjoyable enough –the dancing especially, it went on for hours, a whole orchestra of instruments and the drums! So deep, so loud, shuddering inside me,' Fritha stretched eloquently, sighing with just a hint of a groan, 'Ah, I feel as though I've lost my maidenhood.'

Imoen snorted the ale she had just drawn into her dish, the faces of those around her twisted with shock and Fritha sent them a scornful look. _Hypocrites!_ What she only spoke of they had all done; who were they to suddenly get all prim?

Ah, enough of this; it was time to sleep.

Fritha drank deeply, setting the cup down and about to leave when the doors banged open again and a male wearing the wide-sleeved coat of a messenger entered, the mark of House Despana bright on his chest. He glanced about the room briefly before his eyes came to rest upon their table and Fritha watched as he marched straight across to kneel next to her chair, taking a plain mother-of-pearl box from his bag to proffer it to her.

'For you, mistress.'

Jaheira sent her questioning look and Fritha took it without a word, removing the lid to reveal a set of beautiful jet combs; the larger one in the centre, the shape of a rising sun and inlaid with silver, it was surrounded by four others, each double-pronged like snakes' tongues with a pattern of spiders carved upon the bridge.

'There is a note, mistress,' came the messenger again, and she turned to receive the square of folded parchment, breaking the seal to read the easy flowing hand.

"_If your nature was tamed as easily, you would not serve me half as well._"

Fritha smiled slightly. Phaere's compliments may not have been particularly abundant, but she could not deny that when they came they made an impression.

'Wait here,' she ordered casually, rising with the box in hand and returning to her room, laying it carefully upon the dresser to root in her bag, finally withdrawing a long string of pearls, the globes glowing a ghostly white in the light of the lamps. It had been with the things gifted to them by the rebel prince in the City-of-Caverns and probably served some sahuagin quite well as a choker, though for her it was nothing less than a rope and had to be looped over at least twice to make it anywhere near wearable.

It was a deeply extravagant gift, an easy match of the one she'd received and she lay the beads down next to the box on her dresser, enjoying their rattle before she stooped to pull from her bag a sheaf of vellum and a handkerchief, the white linen now silk of pallid yellow.

Half the dresser was already covered in her styluses and inks, and she selected a dark red one, enjoying the slightly jarred feeling to her writing as her hand formed the unfamiliar script.

"_I slit a Kuo-Toan throat for these; every drop a measure of a life ebbed away._"

She smiled as she looked over the verse, before adding underneath, "_May they serve your neck better._"

The yellow of the silk seemed to have given the pearls an almost osseous tinge and with the dark red ink already drying to a russet on the fine vellum, it made for a very morbid gift. Phaere would love it.

She placed both the pearls and note upon the handkerchief, gathering up the corners to tie with the bright green cord Galinid had given her, before returning downstairs. The messenger had taken a chair in her absence, though he stood quickly when he saw her.

'Return this to your mistress,' Fritha dismissed without a glance, turning to her own companions to add, 'I'm retiring for a few hours; Phaere might be sending a summons over later –see that I am woken the instant it arrives.'

xxx

Jaheira drew a steeling breath, holding it for an instant before releasing it slowly as she raised her hand and knocked, opening the door on darkness.

'Fritha?'

A gasp, Fritha suddenly upright in the gloom and visibly relaxing back against the scattered pillows of her bed as her eyes found her.

'Ah, Jaheira, it's you.'

'You said to wake you when Phaere's messenger arrived. We are to meet her over at the city gates within the hour.'

The girl was nodding, rubbing her knuckles over her sleepy eyes. 'Good, good, thank you.'

Jaheira felt sympathy twist her heart; she looked so tired.

'Another nightmare?'

Fritha just shrugged, swinging her legs from bed to pad over to the large stone bath, the girl turning the valve and steam began to rise in delicate tendrils as hot water gushed forth.

'How have Imoen's been?'

Jaheira sighed, feeling suddenly exhausted herself, and sinking onto the bed she'd just left, the blankets still warm. 'She seems to be coping…'

Jaheira watched as the girl crossed to her bag, pulling out various bottles to set them on the desk above.

'Perhaps, if Phaere sends her slave back over here, she can have a massage; I found it very relaxing.'

Jaheira shook her head, wondering just where her young friend had gone. 'You truly are enjoying it here, aren't you?'

Fritha snorted. 'You've been speaking to Anomen.'

'And what if I have?'

'Oh, it's none of my business. Like I once said to Aerie, if either of you want to make an honest man of him-'

'He is in love with _you_, Fritha!'

'No, Jaheira!' she snapped, straightening with a jerk, her anger suddenly fading in a sigh as she dropped her attention to the desk, 'No, he's not. He told me back on the ship: he follows for duty, no more.'

The druid watched her absently play with one of the bottles.

'You still feel something for him, don't you? How else could you be so, if it was not still hurting you?'

But the girl just laughed. '_Feel_? I remember what it was like to feel, but do I anymore? No, there is nothing there now.'

Jaheira sighed, heeding her to move on to the unwelcome task that had brought her there.

'Fritha, I want to talk to you.'

'To me or _at_ me?' the girl quipped, back at the bath and pouring a decent measure of perfumed oil into the churning waters.

'_To_ you,' the woman repeated firmly, 'Fritha, we all spoke last night after you left. There are worries concerning the line between your act and your true feelings in this charade. That perhaps you are, ah-' How had the bard phrased it? '_losing yourself to the role._ Your words in the Illithid Hive-'

'I've already apologised for that,' Fritha interrupted flatly.

'Well, yes, but that you said them… and last night –I understand that you had to go and even alone, but your anger at us goes beyond all endurance -the fact we can do nothing but wait, while you take everything upon your own shoulders, and the strain is beginning to take its toll.' Jaheira hung her head, ashamed to admit it. 'We did not just talk last night, Fritha, we fought. Imoen was in tears again and Aerie wasn't much better, even Minsc lost his temper in the end. If you could just talk to them, try to help them see that you are still yourself and calm their worries. I understand this act is difficult for you-'

'Do you?' the girl asked quietly, staring back at her and Jaheira had to fight against turning away, 'You know what I have had to do to maintain our illusion here, Jaheira -do you think it ended there?' She turned away, watching the oil's ever-changing patterns in the swirling water. 'Do not speak to me of feelings and difficulties. I act as I must to keep us alive; it takes all my energy and I have not the means left to coddle you lot as well.'

Jaheira was on her feet, marching to her side, the girl dancing back a step as though frightened of her passion.

'Fritha, listen to me, _please_. We followed you; different as we all were, you were our link, you were the heart of this group and without you it is floundering! They are losing faith in you, not as a leader, but as a person!'

Silence. Fritha was gazing up at her, the distance between them much lessened by their new forms and Jaheira could see her own image reflected in those pale yellow eyes. When she spoke her voice was softer than she had heard it in a while.

'Then help them. Our roles have changed, Jaheira; where once you led, now I do, and where once I eased the path of our companions, now another must take my place. This act… I make it look so effortless, and I am sorry I do, because it is not… I cannot be the person I was, and you cannot help me, either with this pain or the task upon us. But you can help them. Keep them together. I will get us out of here alive; you can make sure there is something left for me to save.'

Jaheira stared back at her, wanting to cry 'no!' Wanting to grab and shake and soothe and just make her come back, that smiling young girl who danced and laughed and took such joy from life. The druid dropped her face; was there anyone less suited to the role? She sighed.

'I will try.'

Fritha nodded and turned back to the water.

xxx

Phaere and Solaufein were in their usual positions just beside the city gates, the former watching the marketplace with narrowed eyes while the male behind her leaned back against the railings, sending a sullen frown to anyone who dared glance his way. It was Phaere who saw them first, the woman grinning broadly as she found them in the crowds.

'Veldrin, it is good you have arrived! Up until now, I have only had the company of the wretch, Solaufein.'

Fritha smiled slightly. 'Had I known you were in such dire straits I would have come sooner.'

Phaere's face lit with her laughter. 'His pathetic melancholy nearly drained me of my good humour; how easily you restore it, Veldrin. Well, shall I be brief then and send you on your task?' the woman continued, throwing a poisonous glare to the still sulking man behind her, 'You would like that, would you not, Solaufein?'

'Just get on with it,' he spat, at last riled, and Phaere glowed, she and Fritha sharing a spiteful smile at their small victory.

'Very well then. The Matron Mothers have decided the deep gnomes have not been showing enough fear of late and so it is time to teach them the error of this. A small patrol of young scouts was sent out on a similar task some days ago, but failed to return. It has, therefore, been decided that you are to finish the task.'

Even Solaufein's cool indifference could not be maintained in the face of this insult.

'You… you would have us kill _gnomes_? I am to waste my time on this triviality? I have better things to do, woman!'

Phaere arched a coldly contemplative eyebrow. '_Better things_ than to serve the Matron Mothers? Than Lolth?'

'As if the Spider Queen cares what we do with the gnomes!' Solaufein shouted, Phaere squaring up to his insolence as others in the marketplace behind them turned to slyly watch.

'Do not argue with me, male! You have been instructed to go and you shall! Leave now, slaughter one of their pathetic patrols and bring me back some trophy as proof of the deed! Farewell.'

Solaufein watched her stalk off through the crowds, a path clearing before her, his hatred and frustrations building to a momentary madness as he roared after her, '_May the Spider Queen bite at your heart, bitch!_'

The iron grip of fingers snapped about his arm and he whirled, hand upon his sword hilt ready to strike out at the sorry fool who had dared laid hands upon him. Intense yellow eyes stopped him dead.

'Silence, fool,' hissed Veldrin, the woman rigid in her stance and barely moved but for the hand slipped forward to grab him, 'Do you wish to bring upon us a most _unwanted_ interest?' He followed her eyes as they shifted pointedly back to the marketplace. Before the stall in the far corner, flanked by two acolytes as she let her stern gaze travel the citizens about her: Handmaiden Imrae.

Solaufein drew in a long breath and reined in his temper as Veldrin released him to offer calmly, 'Indeed, if you feel _that_ strongly about attending to this, we can go without you.'

Solaufein glanced back to her, looking for some sign she would betray him of his reluctance later, but her face told him nothing. He sighed inwardly, wishing and not for the first time that he did not have to be suspicious of every little thing.

'Are you sure you can handle-?' he began, before shaking his head, 'It is an insult to even ask you.'

'I am sure we can manage; I don't even know why the Matron Mothers wish to bother in the first place, but who am I to question?'

Solaufein scowled, his attention shifting back to the marketplace Phaere had just left. 'This was no task from the Matron Mothers. Ardulace, or rather, _Phaere_ wants us out of the city.'

Veldrin quirked a knowing smile. 'And now _you_ get to stay… Well, banality awaits.'

And with that she turned to go.

'Veldrin, you do not expect-' cried Ilmyn, Veldrin's voice even as she cut him off.

'I _expect_ you to hold your tongue, male, unless you wish to lose it. Farewell, Solaufein… good hunting.'

He nodded once and watched as she barked a few short orders to her group and together they fell into formation and followed her through the gates.

xxx

'Veldrin,' cried Aerie, hurrying to close the gap between them as they left the tunnel and set out eastward back toward the svirfneblin settlement. 'Veldrin! Do you truly intend to go through with this?'

'Of course, she doesn't!' snapped Jaheira, clearly taking her earlier promise to heart, though her approach needed work. Aerie was still waiting to hear this from the source though, Fritha skipping forward a step to feign a theatrical swoon.

'Oh, that you should even ask such a question; have I fallen so far in even your starry eyes?' she teased, though it lacked her usual venom and the elf took no offence anyway.

'You have a plan then?'

Fritha smiled, turning to continue their path.

'I have many plans.'

'And do you _care_ to enlighten us of them?' snapped Anomen. Fritha giggled lightly.

'And ruin the surprise? Come now, Tann, is it so very difficult to work out? Phaere wants a trophy and we will fetch her one.'

And under her instruction, they made their way back to the site of their slaughter but days before, the bodies of the young drow scouts now stripped of equipment and quite a bit of flesh; in the Underdark nothing went to waste. Imoen had been rather distressed by the sight and the smell was hardly pleasant either, and by Jaheira's suggestion they moved further east towards the gnome village to await the svirfneblin patrol for whom their once opponents had themselves been sent.

The Spider Queen, or perhaps the more benevolent Tymora, was smiling on them. Only an hour later and the rattle of armour broke the silence they had been stood in, Fritha waiting until they were almost upon them before stepping from their cover to halt the six-strong patrol with but a word and demand the leader's helmet.

The gnomes had been predictably surprised by this, but Fritha was not in the mood to offer excuses -or perhaps she just did not want to break character- the girl bluntly offering them the choice of handing over the helmet or she would be taking it with his head, and it fell to Aerie to quickly explain that they had been sent to kill them for their perceived arrogance towards the drow, some mindless slaughter to remind them their dark neighbours were to be feared, but such task was, quite frankly, beneath them and the proof of the deed would be enough.

The gnomes had still been reluctant to give up a helmet for Phaere's prize, though it seemingly stemmed more from wariness at their mercy than the request itself, as though it was some sort of trick to catch them for a worse punishment. Fritha was fast losing patience with them, the metal singing as she drew her blade.

'I'm not going to ask you again- give me the helm or I will take both it and your lives with it and leave your bodies for the spiders!'

A hastily whispered discussion, and the leader stepped forward as one approaching the executioner's block to remove his helm and place it reverently in her waiting hand.

Fritha smiled cruelly and sheathed her sword. 'Good, now off you go and tell your masters that if they wish to avoid their pathetic settlement being wiped clean from the face of these caverns, they had better come crawling on their hands and knees to our Matron Mothers with tithes and tributes.'

Her act was flawless and it left Jaheira cold. The druid watched as they bowed and hurried off to take news of the encounter back to their village, Fritha turning back to the rest of them with a cheerful smile.

'There, I think that went rather well.'

'You would,' muttered Imoen.

'Young Haliue,' said Minsc warningly. Fritha ignored them both, turning expectantly to Anomen.

'Your mace, Tann; the honour of the kill can go to you.'

Anomen handed it over without a word, Fritha setting the helm on the dusty ground before them and hefting the mace lightly before striking it once to put a large dent in the temple. Just a moment to draw her knife, and she was merrily smearing her bloody palm about the inside, the girl seemingly proud of her handiwork as she finally finished, gazing over the battered helm with a fond smile, blood from her sliced hand running over her fingers to pat on the ground below.

'There, perfect.'

**…**

The march back to the city had been uneventful to the point of boredom, apparently leaving certain members of the group with a good opportunity to forget about the dangers of that place and focus on the really trivial concerns.

'My feet are killing me,' Imoen whined as they finally left the marketplace, the welcome sight of the inn looming before them. 'Six hours round trip and all to fetch that stupid helmet; Phaere had better appreciate it.'

Fritha frowned, pushing open the doors before her. 'Phaere-'

Was right in front of them, the whole of the inn watching the woman no less than scream at the male in front of her, Solaufein facing up to her with a reckless arrogance Fritha had never expected of him.

'How _dare_ you disobey my orders! _Insolent male!_'

'_Your_ orders? I was led to believe they came from the Matron Mothers!'

'_Worm!_ Is the mighty Solaufein losing his stomach for blood? The Spider Queen would be displeased to hear such, I think.'

'I save my wrath for the drow's true enemies! Lolth knows this, as does my own house.'

'It is not for you to decide, male!' Phaere shrieked, looking like she would cut him down where he stood, 'I shall have your bloody heart ripped from you on the altar should you continue to speak!'

Solaufein barked a cold laugh. 'You should be so fortunate, Despana _bitch!_ Act and you risk war between our houses. How would Matron Ardulace see that?'

'About as favourably as I see _this_.'

Fritha felt her body tense, her head dropped on instinct as she felt the woman and her two attendants sweep in the doors behind her. Phaere's face was a mask of undisguised horror.

'H-Handmaiden Imrae.'

'Indeed.' Cold red eyes fixed immediately upon Solaufein, his head already lowered as the priestess closed to them. 'You need to learn deference to your superiors, male. Take him to the temple for instruction.'

The two acolytes stepped forward to escort him, the man shaking the hand roughly from his shoulder and turning to stalk from the room; if he was going, he would do so under his own will, the two women hurrying in his wake. Fritha watched him pass, thinking herself overlooked in his current troubles when he turned to catch her eye and she fought to keep her expression neutral in her rising dismay.

The whole room seemed to be holding its breath as the Handmaiden turned her attention finally to Phaere.

'As for you, daughter of Ardulace, I suggest you better control your temper, lest your mother hear of any more such scenes of you humiliating yourself.' Imrae's face twisted with utter disgust. 'Arguing with a male in the tavern before all –such _emotional_ outbursts are not fitting for one of your rank, and Ardulace may come to feel you would benefit a return to the temple for a continuation of your _education_.'

'Yes, Handmaiden.'

The priestess nodded as well, quiet talk finally returning to the tavern as she turned to sweep out, leaving Phaere stood in the middle of the room looking rather lost, the woman clearly shaken and trying to affect her usual cool bravado as she turned at last to notice them.

'Ah, Veldrin -do not look so wary, my pet; Solaufein told me how he deserted you at the gates, the _arrogant worm_. But I knew _you_ would not be foolish enough to defy me.' Phaere smiled, reaching out to accept the helmet, 'Very good –oh, you are wounded.'

Fritha glanced down, as well, examining her now bandaged hand with a grin.

'Yes, one of the little worms caught me; he squealed like a rothé calf when I gutted him.' She gave a bark of laughter that Phaere shared. 'Yes,' Fritha continued blithely, 'all slaughtered and in such a way as to leave no doubt of their assassins.'

Phaere nodded, seemingly more herself by the moment. 'Excellent, I'll warrant the worms are scrambling to make tribute as we speak. You should rest now, Veldrin, I will take news of this to Matron Ardulace, but come to my chambers tomorrow morning, there is something I would discuss with you.'

Just a moment to see her nod and Phaere turned on her heel to sashay out.

'Something she wants to discuss with you; I don't like the sound of that,' murmured Imoen.

'Perhaps she has another task for us,' offered Aerie.

'Then why not say here?'

Fritha let their chatter wash over her, watching Phaere's retreating back with tired eyes and wondering what it had felt like to be so frightened.

xxx

Fritha watched the lamps above her, the pale yellow crystals bathing her upturned face in their weak glow and, if she narrowed her eyes just enough, she could almost pretend it was the high winter sun she had long left. The others had retired a while ago, but she had remained there in the tavern, slowly making her way through a bottle of the dark heavy wine and thinking as the place emptied about her.

She was dying.

Before it was just a word, but lately… She could feel it now, not a feeling of emptiness, of something draining away as she had once perhaps believed it would be, but a sharpening of things, everything about her, sights, thoughts, even feelings brought into keen focus. Her memories were fading; who she had been, now no more real to her than the character in some story she had read long ago, her very being fixed and focused solely on her one last desire: to get them all out of there alive. The others did not understand, could not, they thought she was losing herself to something evil… Perhaps she was, and she wondered if even sweet Durlyle still felt his sacrifice had been worthwhile…

_Well, if not that's his problem- you're doing what you have to and it's not like the others are helping. _

Fritha snorted and raised her cup for another mouthful. 'Amen, sister; that they are not.'

_They all hate you. _

Fritha sighed. 'No, they don't, they just don't understand me now. _I_ don't understand me now, but neither do I have the will to worry about it. This is about basic, physical survival and if this is who I must be to get us out of here and her soul back, then so be it.'

Fritha glanced up as the doors swung open.

_Solaufein's here; we'd best stop for the moment._

Solaufein walked down the main aisle, the tables about him empty for the most part and he was glad of it. He would never have willingly shown any weakness, but the fewer pairs of eyes he had to maintain his stance for the better. He held himself up straighter as a pair of red-eyed females glanced up to watch him pass and was rewarded with a painful twinge all through his back. The Handmaidens had been thorough; Phaere's power was growing that even the temple of Lolth had taken note.

Solaufein did not know why, after almost a decade of her goading, he had suddenly snapped. It was true that Phaere had been exercising her authority more and more since Veldrin had arrived, but she was no worse than how she had been when she had first returned from the Handmaidens all those years ago, the girl thirsty to prove to all that she had no feelings for him, or anyone else for that matter. But perhaps it _had_ been to do with Veldrin, not the change it had wrought in Phaere, but the way her arrival had highlighted the difference between the two women: one so angry and hate-filled and quick to temper, and the other so calm and cool with that rare dark humour. The way she never raised her voice, or seemed to feel she had to prove herself by debasing her subordinates, or-

His thoughts stopped there as his eyes drifted unconsciously to the corner that usually housed her group and he found her at the table. She was looking fair, even by her standards, leaning back in her chair with booted feet resting nonchalantly on the table before her, her fitted green jerkin showing every supple line and long white hair bound back with thick gold bands. She was gazing up at the lamps, her expression unusually pensive, sad even, though it was gone the instant she noticed him.

'Greetings, Solaufein,' she called out as he approached, taking her feet from the table to straighten politely, 'Help yourself to wine.'

He nodded his thanks and sank into the chair opposite, her eyes watching his every movement as he took a cup from the tray before him and poured himself some of the dark liquid.

'The Handmaidens kept you all this time?' she inquired casually, not waiting for a reply as she continued. 'I am sorry; it was not my intention to earn you a reprimand.'

Solaufein snorted with the expected contempt. 'Your pity is a weakness.'

But she merely shrugged delicately. 'And yet, it remains.'

Solaufein watched her as she mildly took another sip of wine. How easy for her to do and say the things he had held in his heart for almost all his adult life, and he wondered from where it stemmed: the arrogance of someone who was unconcerned about the unwelcome attentions such open kindnesses could bring, or perhaps it was the company… Did she see something in him, something that showed her such compassion would be tolerated, and he recalled her fleeting look of dismay as the acolytes had taken him.

'I thank you,' he began slowly, watching her face for any reaction, good or bad, 'But it was not your fault. I acted rashly. So,' he continued with a sour sigh. 'You enjoyed your venture out of the city? The indiscriminate slaughter of a dozen deep gnomes; it must have been quite the test of your skills.'

He wondered, for a moment, if she would take his mockery as an insult to her, rather than the one who had given them the task, but the girl merely snorted, utterly unruffled in either case, it seemed.

'I do as I am ordered and I present to Phaere what she wishes to see.' She sent him a measured look over the rim of her cup. 'We are all players in this game, Solaufein, and fill our roles as best we can. It is just that some of us are having to do a touch more acting than others.'

He stared back at her, while under the table his hand twitched over his sword hilt. Did she know? His voice betrayed nothing of his fears.

'And do you present to me what _I_ wish to see?'

Veldrin smiled, something of the previous sadness back to her eyes as she confessed, 'Perhaps, but I will certainly not work to convince you either way.'

She leaned forward and topped up their cups, adding another half-inch to his even though he had yet to touch it and he took the small sliver vessel into his hand as he finally questioned, 'So, what are you doing here?'

'Thinking.'

'About?'

'Ched Nasad,' she sighed, her eyes drifting back up to the crystal lamps above them. 'We have the same enchanted stone lamps about most of the city, but in the main hall of the Female Fighter's Society there is something quite different. There is a rare species of fish found living in the nearby caverns that has developed a unique luminescence to distract potential predators. From the high rafters of that great hall a dozen huge glass bowls are suspended, each teeming with those bright little fish, the glow they emit changing as they swim and distorted by the water, so the room ripples with light.'

Solaufein swallowed a mouthful of the oily wine, wetting his lips to offer, 'It sounds very beautiful.'

The girl shrugged, unusually bitter as she took another long draft. 'It is gone to me now –it is pointless to dwell upon it.'

'Do you miss Ched Nasad?'

'I miss not having to dance to others' whims, but apart from that,' she shrugged again, 'places are all the same in the end. Have you ever left the city? –been to another, I mean. After all, we have _all_ visited the surface on occasion.'

She was smiling to herself at some private amusement, perhaps recalling a glorious victory over some surfacer settlement and he wondered how she would laugh if he told her about his own more fondly remembered experiences: sneaking up to sit in the long grass under the leafy roof of the forest he knew grew just above those lofty caverns and try to catch a glimpse of his beloved Eilistraee's moon.

'I have been to no other city, but the surface, especially the lands near here are well known to me.'

Veldrin looked surprised. 'Truly? I know there is path, indeed the first path, to the surface near to here, though I thought a dragon guarded the way.'

Solaufein smiled slightly; the tavern gossips had been hard at work.

'You know of the dragon? She does indeed guard the main path, but there are places in the caverns nearby where narrow tunnels lead up to the surface. They are only wide enough for small groups though, not the armies they are amassing now and the grounds around here are known for their instability; the fissures and tunnels change from tenday to tenday.' He made a show of glancing about him. 'But I am sure discussion of the local geology is not what brought you here tonight.'

The girl nodded, making no attempt to hide the desire in her eyes as they raked over him with new interest.

'Perhaps, but they say that the teller makes the tale… We could talk on this privately, if you wish; my room is just upstairs.'

He gazed at her, feeling the hungry burning of his blood. He was supposed to be moving away from this: congress for just the sake of it. But it had been a while and perhaps it was not merely her physical aspects he found so appealing. She was watching him, still mild and calm not the least bit ruffled as she added bluntly, 'If you don't want to, just say; I'm hardly ordering you.'

Solaufein smiled slightly and dipped his face. 'As you will it, _mistress_.'

Her burst of laughter sealed the thing.

**...**

The small common room of their suite was empty, the girl leading him across and straight through the door directly opposite to her own chamber, her belongings scattered about and giving it a more comfortable feel than he was expecting. Veldrin had already unbuckled her sword, throwing it to land on a pile of clothes in the corner as she continued their previous talk.

'There, take the chair, if you will. I shall order more-' her words lost to a sharp gasp as he pulled her to him, his lips instantly finding her neck. A moment's scuffle as she shoved him roughly back, clearly shocked, a hand already drawn back to strike him and Solaufein felt his stomach twist as he realised he may have misinterpreted her offer. But her surprise was gone as quickly as it had surfaced, her expression unreadable as she gazed up at him, and when the blow came it was it was no more than a caress, light fingers tracing down his cheek and she was still frowning slightly as she leaned in to kiss his throat.

Ched Nasad, it seemed, was a world away from Ust Natha. She did not bite or strike or claw, the only occasions her teeth were borne: when she would arch up her body to graze her mouth along his ear, the tickle of her breath only heightening his pleasure. She had set a pace much slower than he was used to, her hands running lightly over his back and flanks, urging him deeper as she quivered under him, her whole body tensed and trembling slightly, as though unseen muscles were straining for something.

The thing was done now, the pair laid in the bed, silent and quite apart, Veldrin's pale yellow eyes trained somewhere above her as she stared into the middle distance, her face as unreadable as her thoughts.

His voice was hoarse after so long in silence.

'Did you take pleasure?'

His question broke the mood.

'Yes, very nice,' she sighed dismissively, turning her back on him as she nestled down in amongst the blankets presumably to sleep. 'You may leave now.'

Solaufein sat, shifting from the bed to quickly find his clothes and throw them on and he left the room in silence; Ched Nasad or Ust Natha, some things were the same all over.


	91. Traitorous hearts

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Baldur's Gate', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Traitorous hearts**

Fritha ran her fingers through her hair and straightened the scabbard at her hip, somehow more aware of her body than normal, as though she was suddenly keenly sensitive to the fact that it was not her own as she followed the slave up the dark stairwell. She had slept later than she usually did, spending the time waiting for her customary bath to fill standing before the mirror, staring at the naked body which housed her now, her consciousness twitching inside her, wanting to break free. The previous night seemed unreal, her mind conjuring memories that felt like they belonged to someone else, and perhaps that was what it had taken: something so out of character to finally remind her of just who she had been. There was no time to fret or ponder on it now though; the slave had stopped, knocking politely on the door before them.

Fritha smoothed her hair and checked her sword for the last time as he showed her inside and any more fidgeting would have to be violently suppressed. It was not so early that anyone would still be abed and indeed Phaere was up and sitting at the table reading a long scroll, the glow of the words softly lighting her face.

'Veldrin, you have come. Sit,' she offered, furling the scroll and gesturing to the chair opposite, Phaere topping up her glass with the jug of water next to her and indicating to Fritha she may serve herself some as well. Silence as each took a sip, Phaere setting her glass back on the table with a chime that opened the proceedings.

'Veldrin, I would speak to you of Solaufein.'

Fritha swallowed her cough with great difficulty, drawing a few more gulps in an effort to hide it, though Phaere seemed not to notice, her eyes distant as she continued.

'Soon, Veldrin, the time for my ascension will be at hand, but there is one final obstacle, a disgrace from my past that must be eliminated before I can take my rightful place.

'And that disgrace is Solaufein,' Fritha croaked, still fighting against a cough.

Phaere nodded gravely. 'Indeed, it is obvious to all there is a past between us, though many here would never dare acknowledge it. Long ago I took him to my bed; an amusement of my youth, no more or less than any of the other men I enjoyed, but Ardulace believed I cared over much for him.'

'And did you?'

'It did not matter!' snapped Phaere, 'That she could believe I was capable of such weakness was enough to shame me. I was sent to the temple to re-learn the ways of our people, to learn again to appreciate the screams of those sacrificed upon the alter, the joy unrivalled that comes from the slaughter of your enemies and the hunger to serve Lolth, and I was shown, in complete clarity, the weakness, the pathetic, hollow _lie_ that is love!'

Fritha sent her a contemplative look. 'You did love him, didn't you? No one who had never been in love could hate it quite as much.'

Phaere looked furious, mouth already open to refute it, but Fritha forestalled her. 'Do not worry, I imagine more than admit it have once succumbed to such feelings, and are all the better for it in the end.'

Phaere's anger was gone, her face lit with a guarded curiosity. 'You speak of one with experience.'

There was silence between them for a long time and when Fritha spoke again, so charged was the air, it was as though the whole city was listening with baited breath.

'There was a male once, long ago, back in Ched Nasad, who was allied to our house and for whom I began to develop a deep regard.'

Phaere was rapt. 'What happened? Were you discovered?'

'No,' cried Fritha with a relieved laugh, 'He was killed before that could happen, praise be to Lolth! He died in a raid on the surfacer filth and protecting my retreat, no less. And that was when I realised it, as I stared down into his beautiful dead eyes: love is nothing but a weakness, and we drow are better off without it.'

Phaere drew back, reclining in her chair to fix her with a measured look. 'Then you will perform this task for me? You will kill Solaufein?'

Fritha's answer was suitably prompt. 'I will.'

'Matron Ardulace _has_ forbidden me to act against him and risk war with his house while our ascension still hangs in balance; to heed my request is to go against her.'

'She will not trace it back to us.'

Phaere smiled broadly. 'Good, very good. The time is coming when I will have power beyond imagining and you, Veldrin, will be at my right hand.'

Fritha said nothing; what comment could she make on plans for a future that was already doomed.

xxx

Their shared common room had seemed even smaller than usual that day. It was getting on for midnight now and many of their group had retired, though some of them were still awake, Aerie sat upon the sofa, Valygar in the chair next to them, while Imoen herself was curled on the floor at his feet, her head resting on his knee. He did not seem to mind, in that he had yet to move or push her off and perhaps he felt it too, the comfort in the closeness of another, whoever they were. Fritha was in her room, just as she had been all day, the girl returning from her meeting with Phaere before Imoen had even risen that morning and no one had seen her since.

Aerie had tried to take her some dinner when the slaves had arrived with their own meal, the elf returning with a full tray and a shake of her head, Fritha apparently sat at her desk, though not at work, the chair and girl both turned to face the room, Fritha just staring at the unmade bed, and she had not even looked up as she had dismissed the elf.

Jaheira had just gone to check on her again, the sound of her voice growing louder as she backed out of the doorway.

'As you say, Fritha -just let us know if you need anything.'

A click of the door as she finally pulled it closed on her assurances. The druid sighed, lingering there a moment, before she mustered the energy to return to her place beside Aerie.

'She is the same –barely speaks. Just says she is fine.'

'Do you think she could be losing her mind?' offered Valygar, 'She is under much strain.'

Imoen snatched her head back from his leg with a wounded look. 'No! Don't say that!'

'It is merely something we should consider, Imoen.'

On the sofa, Aerie was shaking her head 'Fritha is as sane as she ever was.'

'That is not saying much,' muttered Valygar. Jaheira sent him a stern frown.

'This act is not easy for her, however well she seems to have taken to it. We just need to-'

'Oh Fritha,' Aerie cut in nervously, the girl suddenly in her doorway and buckling on her sword, 'are you going somewhere?'

'Yes, I have something to do for Phaere.'

'What?' cried Imoen, 'Has she given us another task?'

Fritha sighed and gave an indifferent shrug.

'Not as such, but Phaere has plans for us, of that I am sure. We just need to stay low and await her orders. I will continue to earn her, well, trust is not the right word, but I will continue to prove to her our value as allies. And that is where I go now.'

She was almost at the door when Aerie's hesitant call halted her.

'Fritha… we- we understand that things are not easy, at the moment, but you can rely on us to help you- you only have to ask.'

The girl smiled; it looked sad.

'Thank you, Aerie. I will likely be a while; don't worry about waiting up for me.'

**…**

Solaufein started at the click of the door, on his feet an instant later and whipping about to see her enter. He had not been abed, despite the lateness of the hour, the man dozing at his desk and fortunate it had been, too; had he been properly asleep he never would have heard her. He watched as she quietly pushed the door shut behind her, no sign of the slave, his mouth finally responding to his commands to croak her name.

'Veldrin?'

She was armed; it would have given him more pause if she had not been, but something about her stance was different now, a certain hardness behind the usual careless bravado as she laughed quietly.

'My, this is a bit awkward, isn't it? Don't worry, Solaufein, I'm not here for _that_.'

And if she was not visiting his chambers in the dead of night for that, then there was only one other reason it could be.

'Phaere has sent you to kill me,' he provided.

Veldrin laughed again. 'And I can see why when you anticipate her so easily!'

Solaufein shrugged. His sword was leaning against the desk, within reach, though he wondered if he would even go for it when the time came.

'This has been festering between us for a long while now; it was only a matter of time.'

'But can you read my intentions so well, I wonder?' Veldrin continued, yellow eyes studying his face with an intensity few would have dared, be they of similar rank or not, when, at last, she seemed to decide something. 'I will not kill you, Solaufein, unless no other path is presented to me.'

'You would defy Phaere?'

'She is not my master –she craves your death for pride, not necessity. Solaufein: the last reminder of her one past weakness. How she despises you for it.'

Even Solaufein, master of pretence, could not hide his surprise.

'She _told_ you?'

'About your relationship, yes. A pair in love torn asunder and one tortured to the point where she even believes that the affections she once cherished are now nothing more than a failing. A very sad tale; that I even felt pity for you both is a testament to it.' She smiled absently. 'The feelings do not come as easily as they once did.'

'For our kind they do not usually come at all.'

Veldrin laughed again, though there was a melancholy behind it.

'Well, where _I_ am from it is quite expected of you. Truly, I wish the surface were the same as here –it would save me a lot of nagging.'

Solaufein could barely contain his shock. 'You, you are a _surfacer?_'

She bobbed a succinct nod. 'Indeed, I am.'

'And the others who are with you: _all surfacers?_'

'Oh, yes. You're not going to turn us in, are you, because then I really _would_ have to kill you.'

Solaufein just shook his head. His knees felt suddenly weak and he sank back into the chair behind him.

'Why are you telling me this?'

Veldrin's pretty face pulled into a sympathetic smile, the expression unfamiliar enough to make his heart rattle.

'I sense you can be trusted with the secret of it; you are not as others here.'

'And neither are you, it seems,' he laughed uncertainly, 'though you have managed to maintain the charade better than I. You have the truth of it; I long ago lost my lust for the pointless killing Lolth seems to need to sate her. There, a secret for a secret, but allow me another, if you will: what are you doing here?'

She shrugged. 'Just passing through in pursuit of someone far worse than Phaere or Ardulace, though their plans have halted me somewhat and so they will have to end. But that is by the by, the issue currently at hand is what we are to do with you. I do not wish to kill you, but I must be seen to be following Phaere's orders and she is quite adamant about your end.'

Solaufein swallowed dryly; his next words would change his life forever.

'There are places within this city where even Despana's gaze cannot pierce the shadows.'

'She requested your piwawfi cloak as proof of your death.'

He rose again, taking it from the stand next to him to hand it over and a shared nod concluded the thing, the woman giving him an appraising frown as she spoke again. 'No doubt your eyes see further than mine in these dark caverns; if you wish to join us when we depart, then do. There is a place for you on the surface… it is very beautiful.'

xxx

Fritha sighed, the climb seeming steeper than usual. She had dismissed the slave in the entrance hall, the girl knowing the way well enough by now to make it alone, the long dark stairwell coiling about the inside of that building, the innards of some great black beast. She was tired, of these tasks, of this act, her whole body aching for a rest that no amount of sleep could afford, though it would be nice to be given the chance anyway, the hour well past midnight now –hopefully Phaere would not be eager for a blow by blow account of her _kill._

The woman was where Fritha had left her the previous day, sitting at the table, though Phaere was on her feet the instant she entered, marching over to her, her face laying bare her heart and filled with a nervous anticipation.

'You have returned, Veldrin, you –you are uninjured…' she cut in suddenly, her suspicions evident. Fritha nodded, ready with her tale.

'Indeed. I told him I had been sent by you with more orders and ones he did not like. Poor fool, his back turned and grumbling away like some petulant child as he stooped for his clothes.' She smiled. 'He did not even see the blade.'

'And his body?' pressed Phaere.

'I had a mage of my group provide me with a scroll of immolation. He is no more than ash.'

Fritha passed to her the cloak she had bundled under her arm, Phaere receiving it with a flicker of some lost emotion. Regret? Relief? Fritha could not tell.

'All love is foolish,' Phaere sighed, the mantra girding her heart as she turned to throw the cloak onto the armour stand behind her, and they retook their places at the table. 'You have served me well, Veldrin, and now there is one final task for you. You have betrayed your Matron once before now –I assume you have no qualms about doing so again, not when you have everything to gain. I have a plan which will place me as Head of House Despana even as we take our place as the rightful ruling house in Ust Natha. You know of the ritual whereby Ardulace will summon the drow an ally to aid our armies when we make our attack? It is a demon prince, an infernal creature of terrible power. The Illithid blood will summon it and the dragon eggs we have been holding to ransom will be the offering to secure his services.' Phaere gave a spiteful laugh. 'Ha, those eggs will be destroyed before Adalon can even muster herself to stop us.'

Fritha felt her heart sinking, all her plans crumbling before her eyes. 'The eggs are a _tithe?_'

'Indeed, I should have liked to keep them, as well; a fine memento of my ascendance, but such sacrifices must be made.'

'Will that not invoke the dragon's wrath?'

But Phaere merely smiled. 'You forget, Veldrin, we will have the demon's service by then. It will slay her easily! In the coming attack, House Despana will have opened the way and provided our most powerful warrior both; our house will be pre-eminent and it is _that_ house I would rule.'

The woman stood, beckoning her over to the low chest that sat next to the fire pit, Phaere opening it to remove a simple hide bag that much belied the treasure it contained: three shimmering eggs, the glow bathing their faces as they both leaned over the prize.

'Here, Veldrin, I had these made in secret. Tomorrow morning the city will be sealed and a service begun at the temple: prayers for Lolth's blessing in the upcoming war -it will last all the day and well into the night. Make your way into the temple by stealth, swap the real eggs for these and return them to me. I will have the wards lifted, but the golems will remain; remember, my mother can suspect _nothing_. When the time of the ritual has come and she goes to present the demon its tithe, the creature will discover her gift as false and kill her for the insult.'

'And then _you_ may step forward with the true eggs,' concluded Fritha. Phaere smiled broadly.

'Exactly! And come our success, _you_ will sit at my right hand.'

Fritha forced a grin and nodded as well. Come their success, Fritha would likely be dead, though whether by dragon or drow still remained to be seen.

xxx

Jaheira started, sitting up in bed with a jerk that wrenched her neck, Imoen sending her a fearful glace as their door rattled in its frame, Fritha's voice suddenly audible as she pounded upon the surface.

'Up, everyone, up! Group meeting in the common room _now!_'

The pair of them rose hurriedly, Jaheira letting a hand rest on the girl's shoulder as they entered, Imoen smiling briefly at the contact before she moved away, slipping past Valygar and Minsc to find a place in the slowly filling common room of their suite, Anomen already Fritha's side, his concern evident.

'Fritha, are you well?'

'Fine, Anomen, just sit down and I will explain.'

'Fritha, what is it?' asked Aerie, the elf looking as anxious as she felt, her blanket still wrapped about her, Jaheira taking a seat on the sofa beside her and Haer'Dalis, while Imoen dropped to sit at their feet. Fritha glanced about them all, movements sharp with a nervous energy.

'We all here? Good. Phaere has just given me these.'

A sweep of her arm as the cloak she had draped over the chair behind her was whipped back, three silver eggs glowing within the bag beneath.

'The eggs…' whispered Aerie. Fritha nodded.

'Yes. Fakes, and ones good enough to fool anyone but Adalon, I should think. The eggs are not just hostages to secure Adalon's co-operation, they are to be an offering to their ally, a demon prince, to sway it to their side. Come the first hour the city will be magically sealed by Matron Ardulace, and a ritual for Lolth's favour begun. Phaere wants us to wait until everyone in the temple is otherwise diverted in worship and swap the eggs, effectively murdering her mother and making her the new Matron of House Despana.'

'Helm's mercy,' breathed Anomen, Imoen echoing his shock.

'Phaere's got some nerve, I'll give her that.'

'So, what do you plan?' asked Jaheira, Fritha giving the eggs a pensive frown.

'Well, I've given this some thought and the easiest path, as I can see it, runs so. We wait until tomorrow as Phaere instructs, steal the eggs and give them to her. When Ardulace dies during the ritual, the seal on the city will end and we can slip away in the chaos that follows. I know Adalon threatened to end our illusion, but I get the feeling she's not as all-seeing as she makes out; she could not tell us where her eggs are within the city, for a start. I believe we'll have a narrow window to escape.'

'Adalon will want revenge,' said Valygar bluntly. Fritha seemed unfazed.

'Adalon will be busy enough fighting that demon they've summoned; I'm sure we'll be able to slip through. Solaufein told me there are many ways up to the surface, not just the one Adalon guards; we can find one and leave by that.'

'And -and we just _let_ the eggs be destroyed and a demon be released on the elves?' cried Aerie. Fritha's head whipped to the girl.

'Must we fight the _whole_ world's battles for them? I'm sure the elves can look after themselves and, as for Adalon, as I recall she is not helping us, she is _blackmailing_ us.'

Aerie looked furious. 'I cannot _believe_ you are considering this, Fritha.'

'Boo says we gave Adalon our word we would aid her,' added Minsc defiantly, 'he will not break it!'

'Yes, _Boo_, but Adalon also told us that Irenicus and Bodhi were here in the city, and since that was a hideous _fib,_ I'm thinking our deal is off.'

Imoen was nodding vehemently. 'I'm with Fritha on this, Adalon just used us.'

Anomen sighed. 'Whatever Adalon has done, we cannot let her eggs be used to summon such a creature. A demon prince released upon the surface could result in countless deaths before the elves can contain it.'

'And what of _us?_' cried Fritha, clearly despairing of them, 'Are you willing to _die_ to save those elves, to save the eggs?'

'There has to be another way!' pressed Aerie.

'Fine!' shouted Fritha, seemingly reining in her temper with some difficultly, the girl sparing a glance to Jaheira as she offered, 'Fine, we vote on it; all in favour of the plan?'

She did not bother raising her own hand, nodding both to Imoen and Haer'Dalis, the man trying not to catch Aerie's eye as he raised his hand as well, their five remaining companions staying pointedly motionless.

Fritha laughed at this unsurprising defeat. '_Gods_, you all want to survive, but only on the noblest of terms. Ah, fine then, if there is no keeping you from it. Our second and suicidal option: we break into the temple tonight before the city is sealed, steal the eggs and make a run for it.'

Jaheira frowned, reluctant to be the one to speak against her when she knew how hard the girl was trying.

'Fritha, you yourself said the way was guarded, warded… it would be impossible to get through without Phaere's aid.'

But Fritha was shaking her head and looking as though she just _knew_ was going to regret her next.

'There may be a way…'

xxx

Jaheira gazed up at the tall domed building next to her, at least three different storefronts sharing the wide base, the signs above the doors the only thing to indicate they were places of trade rather than mere residences. Behind her Anomen shifted, eyes fixed on the stairwell they had just descended, the three girls before her chattering amongst themselves in their much reduced company.

Fritha had wanted to take with her only the three women for this larceny, but Anomen had insisted and then later begged that one of the more martial men be allowed to accompany them should they meet any trouble, Fritha eventually giving in with rather unkind comment that he could join them in case of any heavy lifting.

'Here, I think this is the place,' Fritha murmured, closing to the nearest door, 'Aerie, come help me with the wards.'

A moment of feverish muttering, Imoen moving to join them just as the door swung back and Jaheira pressed after the others to enter the gloomy shop, the room lined with shelves all bearing jars and books, small tables of boxes set about them, a large counter set the length of the back wall.

'Right,' whispered Fritha, scanning about her, 'Jehind told me the rope was suffused with such magic that we could sneak a rothé beast into the temple of Lolth with its power, so I doubt it will be easy to fi-'

'Found it!' called Imoen cheerily, Jaheira turning to find her stood before what would have looked to anyone else, herself included, like the plain shelf of a bookcase, a small section now slid back to reveal the hidden alcove behind, Imoen's proud grin as bright as the treasure she had just uncovered, the rope coiled within and glowing softly. Fritha smiled.

'That's it. Grab it and let's-'

Jaheira blinked, the darkened shop suddenly gone, their group now stood before a long low table of polished marble, many silk cushions scattered about it, while glowing crystal lamps lined the centre, brightly coloured hangings covering the walls of the lavish apartments in which they now found themselves. The room was empty save for two drow, the taller wearing the dark indigo robes of a mage or scholar, while the other was dressed in a tunic and trousers of vibrant pinks, yellows and violets, many gold bracelets rattling upon his well-muscled arms. He obviously thought the combination dashing; Jaheira thought he looked like a circus tent. He grinned as he saw them, a satisfied, feline smile, the man sweeping the wide-brimmed hat from his head in deep bow, the soft lamplight glinting upon his shaven skull.

'Greetings, honoured females.'

Fritha was staring back at him with an expression of woeful resignation, as though she had always known in her heart that her plan had been doomed from it conception.

'Oh, _Hells_.'

The man straightened with a practised smile, setting the hat jauntily back upon his head as he replied, 'Indeed. Can I take it from your reaction that you recognise me?'

Fritha shrugged. 'Well, big feathered hat, shaved head, Imoen's taste in clothes-'

'Hey!'

'Let us just say I can make a guess, Jarlaxle Baenre.'

'The head of Bregan D'aerthe?' Jaheira heard herself gasp. He turned the smile upon her.

'It is so, pretty lady. That you have heard of me makes this all the easier and before you begin, your reputations precede you, as well –the svirfneblin I visited were _most_ enlightening.'

'You did not hurt them, did you?' cried Aerie quickly, the guarded eyes looking her up and down as Jarlaxle assured, 'No, no, it seemed mere threats were enough –you are not kin, after all.'

Fritha called the gnomes something _very_ uncomplimentary. Jarlaxle laughed, returning his roving eye to their leader once more.

'Ah, and Veldrin -or should I call you Fritha? Your act was flawless.'

She snorted bitterly. 'Clearly not.'

'No, indeed, if not for one minor thing, I would have been as fooled as any other of this city. You mentioned you had a similar rope to mine, one taken from a sahuagin. I doubt there are many here who would know as much, but there are no sahuagin settlements near Ched Nasad. It was something which could be easily explained away by many means, but it was enough to bear investigation, nonetheless. But what should be discovered when we reach the tunnels, but surfacer tracks –old, but still clear enough to follow and leading all the way to the gnome village.' The drow smiled. 'You play your role here very well, Fritha, and I must say, I do like your disguise; are you always this captivating?'

'So they tell me.'

'Ah, I wish I could see it,' he sighed, raking his eyes over her form as though trying to imagine it and in a way that Jaheira felt he would have liked to do a whole lot more than _look_ at her; behind her, Anomen was twitching. 'But, alas, it cannot be so. The tale I told you as the merchant Jehind, though false of face was a true enough account and I believe I have just found a way to get my revenge and my payment both.'

'You wish for us to fetch the wardstone to House Jae'llat?' confirmed Fritha. Jarlaxle laughed good-naturedly.

'Oh, no, there is no doubt much treasure within that house, but my eyes are set upon a rarer prize, and one within the lich's possession. Deirex protects a set of gems, as he does the wardstone, which contain the souls of House Jae'llat's founding Matrons and it is _those_ I want.'

'So is this the part where you threaten to tell the city about us if we won't help?' snapped Imoen.

'Well, I _will_ be forced to reveal your disguise should you refuse, but I do have a better incentive for you. Visaj.'

He nodded to the robed male behind him, the man stooping to gracefully sweep a, so far unnoticed, cloth from the table next to him, a clutch of three silver eggs shimmering in their long metal case.

'You have the dragon eggs!' cried Aerie. Jarlaxle shook his head, smiling at her apparent naivety.

'No, no, these are but more replicas.'

Imoen was frowning. 'But how did you know that we would want them?'

'There is very little that has occurred here since my stay which has escaped my notice, with my eye out for revenge and all that. Phaere is not the only one who keeps the service of furtive artisans. Indeed, _Jehind_ was going to pay you another visit himself soon, now he had some new secrets with which to secure your cooperation. But it is much better that you came to me.' Jarlaxle's eyes took on a stern cast. 'I know who you are, I know why you are here and I can make a very good guess at what Phaere wants you to do. With these eggs, you can keep the true prize for yourself and distribute the fakes about the city as you will -and all for a few gems. I would say I am offering you a bargain.'

'As would I, under usual circumstances,' agreed Fritha, 'but the city is going to be sealed in but a few hours and there is no way we can get both your gems and the eggs in time to escape.'

'I am sorry,' Jarlaxle tutted, 'but I really must insist. However, think on it like this: by following my path, you will have these forgeries with which to exchange the true eggs. You can keep those safe, watch as Phaere and her mother _both_ attempt to offer their ally the false eggs and, once it kills them for the insult, you will be free to stroll from here in victory –much more appealing that fleeing from Ust Natha like criminals, no?'

Fritha gave a resigned sigh; she had no choice how ever he presented it.

'Yes.'

xxx

Visaj transported them back to the darkened shop with but a flick of his hand, the group returning to the inn to quickly explain to a rather displeased group of men the revision to their plan, and it was barely an hour later that they were gathered before the colossal twisting mage tower that rose like a thorn in the east of the city.

No one was about and Fritha had a distinct feeling that the earliness of the hour had nothing to do with it, their group standing before the enormous misshapen doorway, the opening seeming to swallow any light brought to it, the stone frame carved to liken the giant maw of some screaming creature.

Fritha glanced to the elf next to her. 'So, are there any sort of wards upon the entrance?'

Aerie shook her head. 'Not that I can detect. Perhaps Deirex is just working on the assumption no one is going to be foolish enough to want to enter.'

'Well, he's got that wrong,' muttered Imoen. 'After going on and on to Fritha about that rope's _amazing_ powers, you'd think Jarlaxle could have at least leant it to us.'

'Perhaps it would have made little difference,' offered Haer'Dalis, 'the magic of the rope might be strong, but lich's have great power of their own. Consider, my robin, if there was no danger, Jarlaxle would have likely just sent his own men to retrieve the gems.'

Fritha drew her sword to lead the approach. 'We should be prepared for battle, then.'

'Good. Boo does not like all this sneaking about.'

'Well, at least one of us is happy,' muttered Valygar, eyeing the dark tower before them with a clear dislike of the magics it no doubt held.

Through the doorway, the veil of shadows sweeping silken over them and leaving Fritha with the lingering sensation that she could suddenly be far away from that city, even that plane. The room about them was pitch black, the walls hemming them in as they found themselves before a set of black stone steps which were curving, not up as the tower would have suggested, but down into the darkness.

'Curious…' murmured Haer'Dalis, 'this recalls to me the time our troupe-' he stopped at their assorted frowns. 'Ah, perhaps a tale for later.'

'Let's hope so,' muttered Fritha, the girl beginning their descent, Valygar the last of them to step onto the staircase and it seemed that was what it had been waiting for, the steps all merging into one and suddenly they were falling, the more agile members of their company managing to roll to their feet, others just sent sprawling as they were swept down into a dark stone chamber. The shadows were so deep as to obscure the walls and the only source of light was from the creature stood before them, a black-skinned desiccated corpse no less that glowing with the magics that maintained its existence, the lich draped in robes so thin and worn they could have been its burial shroud, its voice rasping from age-cured vocal cords.

'Who _dares_ to breach my sanctum?'

Deirex plainly did not much care about their answer through, the creature immediately rising into the air, energies growing between its raised arms. They scattered on instinct, diving for the dark edges of the room. Through another veils of shadows and Fritha found herself suddenly alone, no sign of her companions or even the lich, the girl stood in a narrow circular room, empty and quite unexceptional except for the various-sized holes that peppered the grey stone walls about her.

'Imoen? Jaheira?'

Fritha's head whipped up as a voice cackled overhead.

'I will hunt you one by one –your souls will be my _feast!_'

She snorted wryly. 'He is going to be so disappointed when he gets to me.'

_This is no time for humour! We need to find a way-_

Fritha's scream cut off the instruction, the girl dancing back as snakes of every size began to writhe and pour from the holes about her, others dropping from above. Fritha was almost helpless in her fear, one arm held over her as she fought to keep them from her hair, her sword swinging wildly about her knees, the creatures already entwining about her legs.

_Calm down, it's just an illusion. _

'_Just_ an illusion?' she shrieked, violently shaking the fangs from her arm, the snake whipping through the air to join its fellows in the writhing carpet that now surrounded her.

_Do not underestimate the power of belief! The lich will toy with you, feast upon your fear and when it tires, it will kill you. But we've still some time left yet. We need to find the door. Focus now; do you see it?_

Fritha cast about her wildly, trying to will her eyes past the magic and-

'Yes, yes, I see!' she cried, diving for the plain stone doorway that had just emerged before her, 'Now wha- _ahhhh!_'

The bottom dropped from her stomach, that awful moment of near floating as she realised there was nothing beneath her before the inevitable horrors of gravity kicked in.

_It's all right. It's an illusion, remember; we're not in any danger._

'Until I hit the ground!' she screamed.

_You won't'_

Fritha looked down, a _very_ real-looking stone floor speeding up to meet her and felt the ripple of doubt behind her eyes.

_Oh, or maybe you will. Quick, do something! Think of something!_

Fritha cast about her frantically, the stone walls smooth save for-

It was not just a lunge of her arms, or even body, but every fibre of her being flung itself towards that cornice. Her chest smashed painfully against the walls with enough force that she almost lost her grip, her legs dangling useless beneath her, unable to find purchase on the seamless stonework.

_All right, now look about you; there has to be another door. There!_

It emerged as the others had: a black doorway just below her on the other side of the tunnel.

'Oh, gods…'

_You can make it, trust me!_

She bent her knees, bracing them against the wall, drawing a breath along with her courage as she pushed backwards with a jerk and hope.

She landed heavily on her front, though it felt strangely like it should be her back, Fritha raising her face only to grow more confused as her white hair fell, not about her shoulders but straight up from her head, as though she had suffered a particularly bad fright. She shook herself, the girl making to her feet with a hand clamped to her scabbard and bag and coming to the nauseating realisation that she was standing on what appeared to be the ceiling of a plain metal chamber that put her in mind of the planar sphere, large circular vents taking up most of what should have been the floor.

'Oh, this is very disturbing.'

A shrill scream echoed somewhere below her.

'Imoen!'

_Leave them! You can't help them now; we need to keep searching!_

'Searching for wha- Oh, no!'

The vents below her had opened, water bubbling from them at a furious rate.

_Now, just calm down._

It had already reached her hair, the white tendrils swirling in the eddies and currents to make playful patterns, the voice doing nothing to quell Fritha's worst fear.

_Don't panic, it's just an illusion, you will only drown if you believe it._

'I believe it! I believe it!'

_Calm down! Just ignore it. Focus for the door._

But Fritha had her eyes closed, the girl breathing out on instinct to keep the water from her upturned nose, her lungs filling with fire as they screamed for air, and any second she knew she would break and the water would come rushing in to quench them.

_Just open your eyes! Find the door!_

She wrenched her eyelids back, the water stinging her exposed eyes, and it was there, a plain black doorway rippling before her, her lungs protesting at the air-stealing effort as she reached a hand towards it.

She fell through the doorway as though she'd the weight of an ocean behind her, Fritha sitting up to find herself perfectly dry, the room she was currently in very different from those previous, just a small, circular chamber of black stone and lit by the icy blue flames that were roaring about the top of the tall obsidian pedestal set in its centre, where, suspended within the globe of fire, a narrow glass vial winked and rippled.

Fritha took a step closer, already feeling the flames' heat against her face.

'Is that what I think it is?'

_Yes, the phylactery! No, wait- You can't-_

But Fritha had already drawn back her sword, the blade singing towards the podium only to rebound violently.

'It's shielded!'

_From weapons, yes, only an unarmed hand can take it down._

'Are you joking? It's on fire!'

A guttural roar echoed somewhere above them, and Fritha felt the panic within her rise.

_Come on, we don't have time! It's just an illusion! Just take it! Just take it now!_

Fritha's scream pierced the air, the vial chiming on the stone tiles as she cradled her hand to her chest, the skin cracked and raw.

'You _fuc-_ oh, gods, my _hand!_'

_I'm sorry- I lied. But we hadn't the means to dispel it! Come on, quick, destroy the vial!_

A sudden flash of magic and he was there, Deirex suspended in the air before her, the room effulgent in the fire of his eyes.

'YOU!'

_Quick! Now!_

And the creature could do nothing but watch as Fritha raised her sword awkwardly above her head to bring it smashing down onto the vial in an explosion of splintered glass.

'_Noooooo!_'

The roar faded with it form, the ages finally taking their toll upon the body as it crumbled to dust before her eyes. With Deirex died the illusion, and suddenly they were all there, stood in a large an quite unremarkable room of plain grey stone and little furniture, the doorway back to the city just behind them.

'What!' cried Minsc, letting the point of his greatsword drop dispiritedly to the tiles with a plangent clank, 'Where has gone the mighty gorgon?

'All illusions,' breathed the elf, gazing about the room in awe, 'just like the circus.'

'_Just_ like the circus,' Jaheira hissed, bloody hand clutched to her thigh, Aerie hastening to help her as Anomen strode over to Fritha who, for once, was glad to surrender to him her blistered hand, Valygar giving the broken shards of the phylactery an appraising frown.

'How did you find it?' questioned Anomen as he finished with the salve and began gently winding a bandage about her hand. Fritha opened her mouth to answer-

'Well, I-'

'_No, don't tell them, petal; they'll just think you're mad._

'I- I just stumbled here by luck.'

'By luck? But how did you even leave the room you were first trapped within? There was no door in mine.'

'Nor mine,' chimed Aerie.

'Well, there was in mine!' snapped Fritha, Valygar thankfully forestalling any further pursuit.

'It burnt you when you smashed it?' he asked, finally straightening from the pool of jagged glass. Fritha shook her head.

'No, when I knocked it from the pedestal.'

Imoen snorted. 'Arrogant prat! Why do mages always put their _dangerously _important artefacts on display?'

'Do you include yourself in that?' quipped Valygar.

'Not likely! If I had a soul jar, I'd hide it right at the back of my drawers, stuffed inside a pair of old stockings. Course, I'd have to have a soul to put in it…'

Haer'Dalis had moved to make a search of the large bookcase behind them, Imoen still laughing to herself as she moved to join him.

'Do you think these are them?' she asked, opening the case of what could have been very extravagant marbles on the shelf below, each encasing a brightly coloured constellation that swirled hypnotically. The tiefling gave a shrug to indicate her guess was as good as his, and Imoen promptly scooped them into a waiting pouch. Back at the others, Jaheira was walking again, albeit with the aid of her staff, Anomen tying the final knot at Fritha's hand, the man still trying to get some explanation from the girl.

'But-'

'But _what, _Anomen? Do you think I'm lying?'

'No, Fritha, I merely, well…'

Imoen let her eyes flick to the tiefling next to her, holding up one of the tiny rainbow-flecked marbles.

'Do you think Jarlaxle'd notice if we borrowed one? Might be an improvement.'

'Do we have the gems?' snapped Fritha, Imoen quickly shoving it back into the pouch to bob a curtsey.

'Yes'm.'

'Then let's _go_.'

**…**

Jarlaxle was predictably pleased with the prize he had borne so little risk to obtain.

'Ah, look at them,' he sighed, gazing down at the gems he held with a similar desire he had shown the girls earlier. 'They are even finer than the tales would have us believe -what price do you think these will fetch?'

Visaj looked over them with coolly appraising eyes. 'Quite apart from their beauty, House Jae'llat has enough enemies for a bidding war; I imagine we can get at least four times their physical value.'

Fritha snorted. 'All this for coin? How dull.'

Jarlaxle merely answered with his customary grin. 'Well, we cannot all be fighting for- well, for whatever you are here. Besides, coin is only as dull as the means by which you win it.'

'Well, I hope you were suitably diverted.'

'I imagine I will be; come, sit and tell me of the jaunt.'

A moment's wary pause as they watched him take a seat at the table next to them, before one by one they joined him, the man seemingly keen to show off one of his "many" magical treasures, as Visaj served them from a tall pot of floridly-worked gold, Jarlaxle grinning at their gasps of surprise and delight as it produced a different drink each time, and spirits seemed light as they recounted their fight with Deirex, each as keen as their hosts to know what the others had faced within the tower, while, for her part, Fritha stoically maintained she had come upon the phylactery 'by Tymora's grace'.

Jaheira pulled the door shut behind her, half expecting it to fold up and disappear in a flash after the magics she had borne witness to lately. But the shop remained as they had found it, dark and closed, a lower rumble in the air signalling the marketplace in the level above was slowly waking with the day. Ahead of her, the others had already set off for the stairwell, Imoen still chattering excitedly about their meeting –or, at least one part of it.

'I can't believe that pot! I was just thinking the other day how much I'd like some apple juice, and there it was, just like Beth used to press!'

'Haliue, calm yourself,' warned Aerie gently, 'this is not a talk for now.'

Imoen spared a moment to glare at her back, before turning brightly to the girl at her side.

'What drink did you get?'

Fritha glanced up distractedly. 'Hmm? Oh, nothing… Mine tasted of nothing.'

Anomen was frowning, Imoen opening her mouth to reply when it happened, a sudden charge rippling across the city, a shudder running through every soul in that teeming cavern. Even Fritha noticed it, a hand laid on her bag and the three fake eggs upon which so much now rested.

'That's it. The gates are sealed; there is no way back now.'

Imoen rolled her eyes, sending Jaheira a grin as they set off again.

'Right, no pressure or anything.'

xxx

And so they returned to the inn to wait for that day to wax and wane once more. Perhaps she had heeded Jaheira's previous request, or perhaps it was merely her own choice, but after they had all retired for a few hours to sleep, Fritha had spent the rest of the day in the suite's common room with them, rather than staying within the seclusion of her chamber as she usually did. It did little to help though; the girl sat calmly reading a book in that growing air of tension and merely serving to put the others on edge, and Anomen was glad when she finally packed the volume away in favour of dinner and a final discussion of their plans.

It was very late now. Phaere had told Fritha she would lift the wards after midnight, when the worship would be winding down and there were fewer people about to question their passage. In the chair opposite, Fritha sighed, closing the book to which she had long since returned, and stretching half-heartedly.

'Right, I imagine it's late enough now. Imoen, Aerie and Jaheira, go and make any preparations you must. The rest you, well, you may as well get yourselves off to bed; there is little you can do.'

Not one of the men who were to be left behind moved, though Fritha was hardly paying any attention anyway, the girl already on her feet and padding off into her own room to gather her belongings. Anomen drew a deep breath and made to follow. Her room was dark, the few lamps unlit and doing little to hide the chaos of clothes and equipment that were strewn about it –she had clearly made herself at home. Fritha herself was seated at the dresser, straightening from pulling on her boots to dab a bead of scent behind each ear, the bandages still about her hand looking overly white in the gloom, the girl finally noticing him in the reflection of the glass before her. She frowned.

'You aren't here to plead to be included in the plan, are you?'

Anomen sighed, sinking on to the bed behind her with a shake of his head. 'No… I think the plan a sound one, and taking any men to the temple would be an unnecessary risk.'

'Then why are you here?'

He tried not to wince at the sharpness of her tone.

'I just wanted to talk with you, it has been a while since we've spoken.'

'And what is there to suddenly talk about? Nothing has changed.'

'No,' he agreed quietly, 'it has not. I spoke to Jaheira, what she said- Fritha, it is not just duty that binds me here.'

The girl snorted humourlessly. 'No, at the moment, there is an illusion, three eggs and a large silver dragon too.'

Anomen sighed, frustrated in his desire to just press his sincerity into her.

'Fritha, whatever has passed between us, you have to know that I still-

'You ready to go, Fritha?' came Imoen from the doorway. Fritha was on her feet in an instant.

'Most certainly.'

And Anomen was left alone in the darkness.

…

The plan went perfectly. In fact, the most trouble Fritha had was not laughing, she and Jaheira stood at the back of the temple as the druid let her consciousness flow outward, flashing like a whip crack across the minds of the dozens of spiders that usually milled docile about the main chamber and driving the suddenly incensed creatures into the waiting congregation. The Handmaidens were all at once screaming commands and trying to maintain order, the protection of a single warded door easily overlooked in the chaos.

Aerie and Imoen had later described their own adventure, Imoen picking the lock for the pair to slip unnoticed into the chamber, temporarily immobilising the golem guardians with a rune etched simply upon their clay. That tense moment as Imoen swept eggs from brazier and they waited to see if the constructs reacted; that gleeful swell of victory when they realised it had worked. A moment to make the exchange, Phaere's fakes left for her mother, while the true eggs were spirited back across the city, the Handmaidens left in the temple lining up for punishment those guards and acolytes foolish enough to have fought back.

Back in their suite, Jaheira went to fetch Jarlaxle's forgeries from where she had hidden them in Minsc's room and they gathered together in their common room, a sense of relief hanging over them as the women described their triumph; the end was in sight.

'It's nearly over, isn't it?' sighed Aerie, the girl leaning upon Haer'Dalis as he put an arm about her. 'We've finally got the eggs.'

Minsc looked positively overjoyed at the prospect.

'See, Boo? Soon we will be back under the sky, towering above our enemies once again!'

Anomen was nodding, his eyes shifting to Fritha, though the girl had not noticed. 'This time tomorrow and we may well be leaving here.'

'And not a moment too soon,' added Valygar, 'I am tired of every woman I see staring at me like a piece of meat.'

'You mean they don't do that on the surface?' giggled Imoen from where she was seated upon the rug before the two clutches, the true eggs upon the hearth keeping warm, the others set before it, the girl turning back to the glowing silver broods with a tired frown.

'Right, we swapped Phaere's fakes for the real ones and now we are going to give Jarlaxle's forgeries to Phaere and keep the real ones ourselves.'

'That's the plan,' sighed Fritha, unfolding herself from where she had been curled upon the sofa. 'And I had best get on with it. Pass them over, Imoen; Phaere will no doubt be pacing the floor.'

Imoen obliged her, raising herself up on her knees and gathering the forgeries into her arms with a yawn, careless in her exhaustion, the smooth eggs slipping against each other and there was an awful moment where she seemed to juggle all three of them, her arms tightening to catch two, leaving the third to drop into the swirling blue flames.

'_Imoen!_' cried more than one voice, Fritha halting them with a sigh.

'Don't worry, it's…' but she could not finish her assurance, the egg, unharmed for its fall and laid in the flames, the heat awakening in it some latent magic and the word emerged upon its surface in clear plain letters that only Imoen had the heart to voice.

'Fake.'


	92. The hidden knife

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Baldur's Gate', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**The hidden knife**

'Veldrin, you have returned… I heard of the commotion at the temple, but…'

Fritha closed eyes, trying to ignore the feeling that she was dooming them all as she handed over the soft hide bag, Phaere immediately opening it on three bright, silver and ever so genuine eggs. Her soft gasp of delight sent a cold dread shivering over her.

'Ah, you are a marvel, my beautiful Veldrin, you are, indeed. Thank you, you have performed well…' Phaere was smiling, as genuine as the eggs she held, and, for a moment, all the soft beauty of her face was allowed to shine through, Fritha given a glimpse of the woman whom Solaufein had once loved. But it did not last, the smile taking on a hungry cruelty as Phaere laughed, 'And just think, this time tomorrow and _I_ will be the new Matron of House Despana!'

She moved over to the table where a long case was waiting, the heavy dark stone glowing with an enchanted heat. 'There,' Phaere sighed, letting long fingers run over the silver shell with a gentle affection as she placed the last egg within. 'I commissioned this case for them that they may be kept at temperature without a brazier –our prize is no good to us if it is dead.' The woman turned back to her, face stern once more and perhaps even a little guarded –Veldrin was, after all, the one person left in that city who could still ruin her plans. 'Now go. The ritual will be performed tomorrow night –I will send for you when the time comes.'

'Yes, mistress.'

**…**

Fritha gazed up at the building she had just left, trying to imagine where Phaere was now hiding her treasure, the prize that would bestow upon her control of that House, power over that entire city. The pity was, she could certainly think of worse people to rule it. Fritha sighed and turned to continue her path back to the inn, the streets quiet at that early hour of the morning. The fact their end seemed so certain now had left her feeling rather calm, as though just doing her best, whatever the outcome, was all any could expect of her.

Their room was just as she had left it: tense. Imoen was knelt upon the hearth rug playing distractedly with the three fake eggs, Valygar pacing behind the sofa where Aerie was flipping back and forth through her spellbooks, desperate to find something that could help them, Haer'Dalis next to her and trying not to fidget, while Anomen stood in the far corner watching Jaheira and Minsc's _very_ heated discussion.

'Boo says we never should have handed over those eggs!'

'Well, then Boo wants to get us all killed! Come the morning, Phaere would have merely arrived here looking for them and she would not have come alone or, indeed, peaceably!'

'Come the morning, young Aerie may have found a way to fix the eggs or unseal the gates!'

'Only Matron Ardulace can unseal those gates, Minsc, even-'

'Fritha!' exclaimed Anomen, marching over to her at the sound of the door, 'What happened? Did Phaere say anything?'

Fritha shrugged, mildly taking a chair and everyone seemed to gather about her.

'Only that the ritual will be performed tomorrow night, or I suppose tonight actually, since it's the morning now, however early.'

Aerie gave a miserable moan, Imoen shaking her head.

'Oh, not good, this is not good!'

Jaheira was on her feet, trying to regain some semblance of calm in the increasing air of panic.

'Now, just listen, everyone-'

A bright flash, Aerie's small scream making more than one of them start.

'What, by Silvanus-?' But Jaheira's question was already answered, the smoke instantly dissipated by its flapping wings as a small blue imp appeared in their midst, the creature shaking his head like a disappointed tutor as it gazed down at Fritha.

'Oh, Mistress Adalon is not very happy with you, godling. Her eggs are still in peril, and she is threatening to end the illusion!'

'We had no choice!' cried Imoen, 'If we'd given Phaere the fakes, we'd have been discovered straight away –we're going to get them back, we just need more time!'

The imp looked doubtful. Fritha sighed.

'If Adalon ends our illusion now, then we will definitely be unable to rectify this, and she will lose her eggs for certain. Return to your mistress, tell her to be patient, we will retrieve them yet.'

'Mistress Adalon, will not like that.'

'Yeah, well, Mistress Adalon can just _fu_-!'

'Imoen!'

'Ooo, Adalon was right to pick you peoples –you are just like drow, all bicker and squabble. I will tell her, but she won't be happy.'

Jaheira sighed tiredly. 'Are any of us?'

The imp regarded her a moment, seeming trying to decide whether an answer to this was expected, before he gave up either way and he was gone. Fritha drew a deep breath; it was time to remember who she had been.

'Right, the eggs are delivered to Phaere, now we just have to see about getting them back.'

'You make it sound so simple,' snorted Valygar.

'Do I? I doubt it will be, but I shall try to keep the plan so. As I see it, we have two problems. Since we are trapped here until Ardulace is dead, Phaere needs to believe everything is continuing according to her plan. Therefore, we need some decent forgeries that we can exchange for the real eggs _and_, once we have those, it will be a matter of gaining access to Phaere's apartments.'

'Where only _you_ have ever been,' Imoen reminded with more than a little resentment. Fritha refused to bite.

'Phaere holds quarters on the top floor of the Female Fighter's society –not so difficult to find, for there is only one staircase up, but it has many people coming and going at most hours; getting in and out unseen will be difficult, and then, of course, there is searching her apartment. But that is all incidental while we have nothing to exchange for the eggs.'

Minsc sent Jaheira mutinous glare, but said nothing. Fritha ignored it, letting her eyes drift over them, this decision perhaps the most important she had made yet.

'Jaheira, Anomen, Imoen and Minsc; you will go back to the shop that served as Jarlaxle's cover and try to make contact with him.'

'Jarlaxle?' exclaimed Anomen, 'That drow rogue? We do not even know if it was he who planned this treachery from the beginning!'

'He did not do this,' stated Fritha evenly.

'But-'

'No,' interrupted Jaheira, 'Fritha, is right. The man is well-reputed to be driven by coin and I see little way for him to profit by this betrayal.' She glanced to the girl next to her, 'You will not be attending, as well?'

Fritha shook her head. 'Phaere was nervous when last we spoke; I do not know if she is watching us, but it may look suspicious if we go anywhere as a group. The rest of us will wait here for your return. Whether you can contact Jarlaxle and find some way to replace the eggs will determine the rest of our plans.'

'And if we can't?' asked Aerie quietly. Jaheira was quick to bolster them, her desire to fulfil her promise and take the burden of it from Fritha heartening the girl more than any of her words.

'Then we will have to consider a new route to the eggs. Do not worry; this situation is not so bleak. We could betray Phaere to Ardulace, kill the Matron before the ritual -even take the eggs from Phaere as she means to present them to the demon. As long as the eggs survive, there is hope.'

Their talks ended, everyone rose in a brief flurry of activity, those who were going making preparations to leave. Imoen threw her bag across her shoulders and crossed to the door of her chamber, Fritha glancing up from the desk as she entered.

'So, we're off then,' Imoen began, her voice falsely hearty, brimming with a confidence she did not possess. 'It feels strange that you're not coming along, though.'

Fritha just nodded, closing to her to pat her shoulder –she would never get used to them being the same height.

'Jarlaxle will likely help you, though his aid may come at a price. But, as Jaheira said, this is not our only hope.'

'No,' the girl agreed shrewdly, 'but it's our best one, even with having to sneak back into Phaere's place to swap the eggs afterwards.'

Fritha sent her a contemplative look –someone would need to know…

'Yes… She had a long stone case ready waiting for them, infused with a heat of its own, so she did not even need to keep the eggs over a fire. Phaere's apartments are not so spacious though, just three rooms and not much furniture to clutter them up.' Fritha smiled slightly to the girl before her, 'I'm sure a keen eye would be able to find them.'

Imoen snorted. 'If you mean someone nosy like me, then just say so.'

They shared a smile, the first in a long while. It could not last.

'Imoen?' called Jaheira from the other room. Fritha gave her shoulder another bracing slap.

'Time for you to go.'

Imoen nodded, sharp face lit with a new intensity. 'We won't let you down.'

'I know. Just remember, Imoen, this act sometimes requires sacrifices.'

Imoen laughed, already half turned to go. 'Don't worry; Jaheira has all our coin ready to bribe him with. Hells, I'll give Jarlaxle everything but the tunic I'm stood in, if he'll fix those eggs.'

xxx

'Well, we're here,' snapped Imoen, feeling the pressure of what was resting on them weighing heavily on her as she gazed about the now empty shop, the bare shelves and tables bearing no hint of the goods they had once held. Fritha had made it sound so simple –just go there and find a means to contact him. 'What in Hells are we supposed to do now?'

Anomen was scanning about the room vainly, looking as fraught as she.

'Perhaps there is something left, some clue as to where he has gone or a means to contact him.'

Minsc frowned. 'Boo says we will find nothing here.'

'Well, that's not very helpful, _Boo_,' snapped the druid, 'Magic drew us from this place before, perhaps there is a way to trace the energies back to where Jarlaxle makes his stronghold.'

Imoen felt the impatience quiver through her, the magics building. 'We don't have time for this! We need to find Jarlaxle and we need to find him _NOW!_'

Imoen blinked, shaking the static from her hair as she gazed about her at the familiarly opulent room, the two men seated at the table glancing up to them with an equal surprise. Jarlaxle recovered first, brushing an indiscernible spot of dust from his sleeve as he rose to greet them.

'Well, I did not expect to see you again. Where is your leader, Fritha?'

'Never you mind,' snapped Minsc, ignoring Jaheira's quelling look, 'We have need to speak with you.'

'Clearly,' the rogue offered coolly, 'You are fortunate I am still about. Now what is it you want?'

'_Want?_' repeated Imoen sharply, 'I hope for your sake you truly don't know, mate!'

Jarlaxle frowned. 'I do not believe I like your tone, my lady.'

Imoen could not have cared less, the girl thrusting one of eggs at him angrily. 'These forgeries you gave us, perfect in every way barring one _minor_ flaw.' Flame burst around her hand, licking about the egg and slowly the word emerged, glowing gold upon the silver surface. Jarlaxle looked genuinely troubled.

'Ah… Well, Visaj, you did say we should have paid that artisan rather than blackmailing him.'

The man next to him dipped his head in measure apology. 'I regret my insight.'

'Well, then, let me see,' Jarlaxle continued briskly, taking the egg from Imoen's outstretched hand and giving it a glance over before presenting it to the mage, 'What do you make of it, Visaj?'

'It is a charm upon the surface, rather than a part of the egg itself. I may be able to remove it, in time…'

'Well, you had best get started then,' Jarlaxle dismissed merrily, 'and order a couple of the men to go and pay the artisan a visit –we can't have him swaggering about believing to have duped us, can we?'

Jaheira wordlessly handed the mage the small hide bag and he disappeared in a flash, Jarlaxle already moving to take a seat at the table.

'Well, now, while we are waiting, perhaps a drink?'

They joined him reluctantly, though more from feelings of their own urgency then any worries regarding his hospitality, the pot passed about the table as each of them served themselves with the tea that he and Visaj had been drinking but moments before.

'Well,' Jarlaxle continued once all were settled, 'now this minor crisis is well in hand, though I wonder what you plan once you have the fakes. Are you still in a position to just hand them to your patron?'

Anomen shook his head. 'No. Phaere required delivery of the eggs hours ago and we were forced to present to her the real ones –they are hidden now in her apartments.'

'Ah, an unfortunate situation,' Jarlaxle sighed, taking an unconcerned sip of tea. 'Still, she will be unable to assign guards to her rooms without drawing suspicion -if the eggs are within, it will take something considerable to drag Phaere from her apartments. Of course, you could always attempt to search them with her there -perhaps distracted by one of your company,' he offered, an eyebrow raised to Minsc; the ranger looked deeply perturbed. Jarlaxle shrugged, 'Though that in itself bears its own risks. But, either way, I wish you well in the endeavour.'

'Oh, you'll do a lot more than that, mate!'

'Imoen!' Jaheira hissed, but the girl's temper would not be silenced, Minsc seeming more than willing to back up her words.

'No, Jaheira –his _minor crisis_ could have got us all killed! The way I see it, you owe us.'

Jarlaxle sent Imoen a cool look. 'I do not take kindly to orders, even from ladies as pretty as yourself.'

'Ha! You have no idea –this body is nothing compared to the one I left. You'd be falling over yourself to do my bidding! You know it's going to be impossible to get into Phaere's without help.'

'You expect me to join with you?' he asked incredulously. Imoen snorted her derision.

'I wouldn't have you if you offered. Lend us your rope.'

Jarlaxle paused to draw another sip, clearly mulling this over.

'Well now… I would not usually bow to such requests, but, I will agree that in crossing me, this artisan has caused you some difficulties. Hmm, eight surfacers against the twisting intrigues of city's most powerful house… I always was one for the underdog…' He grinned suddenly, raising his cup, 'All right, let us drink to it.'

xxx

The others had been gone for hours now. Aerie leaned into the man next to her, Haer'Dalis patting her hand though he kept his eyes closed, trying to take what little rest he could seated there with her on the sofa, Valygar pacing the floor behind, while Fritha was curled in the chair next to the empty firepit. She had left the room about an hour after the others had, returning a few moments later with ale for them all before going quietly back to her book. Aerie let her eyes drift to her, the girl reading steadily, seemingly unconcerned by the fears that pressed on the rest of them, though for all that, she seemed sad. Perhaps she had already accepted their fate; she had been facing her own demise for over a tenday now –maybe the idea had simply lost its sting.

Behind her, Valygar sighed tersely. 'We should be doing something! Not just stood here waiting!'

'Nothing can be done until our hounds return with news,' reasoned Haer'Dalis wearily, 'Then we will know our next step.'

'They must have found Jarlaxle by now –they would have returned otherwise.'

'Do you think he's helping them then?' asked Aerie. She wished Valygar would just sit down, his pacing was making her feel all the more nervous.

Haer'Dalis shrugged. 'Either that or he has killed them.'

'Haer'Dalis, don't!'

'Jarlaxle won't have killed them,' offered Fritha quietly. 'He may have demanded another favour for his aid though; we must just be patient.' She glanced up from her book. 'The Fates will provide.'

'Well, this sparrow just wishes they would provide with a little more haste. I-'

Hammering on the door made them all start, though Fritha seemed to be expecting it, the girl rising slowly, eyes fixed on the portal opposite.

'Remember yourselves.'

The door burst open before anyone had a chance to cross and open it, two guards taking a place either side as Phaere stalked through looking angrier than Aerie had ever seen her, the woman reaching Fritha to strike her viciously across the face, her nails scoring the dark flesh.

'Did you _think_ I would not find out?'

'Find out what?' cried Fritha, voice waving between outrage and fear.

'You took him to your bed!'

'What? What are you speaking of?'

'Solaufein!' screamed Phaere, 'You bedded that _worm!_ There are rumours of it all over the tavern!'

Aerie felt her heart stop; and just _who_ had been the source of that? Fritha was defiant.

'They lie; I never took that wretch to my bed! Ask him yourself!'

Phaere's face froze and a silent understanding seemed to pass between the two women.

'He is… missing, so they say at the Male Fighters' Society.'

'I did not lie with him,' pressed Fritha. Phaere's face twisted with a cold smile.

'Is that so? Well, let us see if the Handmaidens can change your song. Take her.'

'What? No!' roared Valygar, Fritha whipping to the sound.

'Silence, _male!_' she snapped, shaking the guards off roughly as they made to escort her, 'I need not your arm!'

And she marched from there, bloodied face held high, a willing accomplice in her fate.

xxx

Jaheira pushed open the door, a fierce determination trembling through her heart, the weight of those eggs pressing in the bag at her hip, Jarlaxle good on his promise to mend them, as well as affording them other aid. It would be difficult, but with the magic of his rope they just stood a chance of gaining access to Phaere's apartments and finding the eggs. The others about her could feel it too, the building hope that perhaps they could _just_ snatch this from the fire and escape alive –this one final task barring the way between them and freedom.

'We return. We-' Jaheira stopped dead, unmindful of the others crowded before the door behind her as her eyes fell on the elf's tearstained face, Haer'Dalis and Valygar looking little better. 'Aerie? What has happened? Where is Fritha?'

'She- she's gone,' the girl answered tremulously, 'They came, they took her…'

'_What?_' roared Minsc, barging through them, fresh tears already streaking down Aerie's face.

'She went downstairs after you left, I thought she had just gone to fetch some drinks, but she did something, I don't know, probably bribed one of the servers or the innkeep to start it; you'd only have to tell a few people in a place like this…'

'Tell them _what?_' pressed Jaheira, Haer'Dalis taking up the tale as Aerie's tears caught up with her.

'The raven started the rumour that she had bedded Solaufein-'

'She _what?_'

'_Helm's mercy_,' moaned Anomen; he could clearly guess what had occurred next. The tiefling laughed nervously, looking anything but pleased.

'You have to credit it to her; the raven knows _exactly_ how to get a reaction. Phaere burst in here but half and hour ago, screaming like a succubus, and had her dragged off to the temple.'

'And you _let_ them?' cried Imoen, Valygar shaking his head.

'How could we stop them?'

'He is right, Imoen,' agreed Anomen quietly, his small frame slightly hunched as though he had just taken a heavy blow to the chest.

'Oh, _shut up!_' she snapped, already whirling to the woman next to her, 'We have to do something, Jaheira –Phaere could kill her!'

'I do not believe that was her intention,' offered Valygar firmly.

'Oh, and suddenly you're the expert on the drow, are you?'

'No, young Imoen, Boo says there is no time for arguing now!'

'Imoen, you don't know, you weren't here!' cried Aerie.

'No, cause if I was, I wouldn't have let her go!' Imoen shrieked, dropping her face into her hands to sob, 'Why didn't I realise? Oh, why did she have to do this?'

Minsc placed a hand on her shoulder, gently patting her back. 'Come now, young Imoen; Fritha is very brave, she will return to us soon.'

The girl said nothing, Minsc moving back as Jaheira stepped in.

'Imoen, I know you are frightened for her, but Fritha did this for us, to give us a chance to find the eggs and that is what we must do.'

Silence, Jaheira unable to look at girl before her, Imoen just shaking her off and mopping at her face as she turned away. A light knock rattled the door behind, breaking the stillness. Anomen moved first, opening it on a tall cloaked form, the figure drawing back his cowl to shake out his long white hair, grey eyes grave.

'I have heard.'

'Solaufein,' gasped Aerie to a background of uncomfortable glances, no one sure how to react; Fritha had always made it look so easy.

'What are you doing here?' barked Jaheira, taking up the role of head female, 'They said you were missing.'

Solaufein frowned, closing the door behind him to gaze about them all. 'Veldrin did not tell you? Phaere instructed Veldrin to kill me, but she refused. I agreed to disappear to further the lie of my death –she told me about you all, that you are surfacers.'

'She told _you?_' choked Anomen, Jaheira mind echoing him, though she was too stunned to form the words, the girl apparently engaged in plots as twisted as her mistress's as she had skipped about that city without them.

The drow merely nodded. 'She realised I am not as others here –she said I could join you for the surface, if I wished it. When I heard she had been taken to the temple, I feared the worst. I realise now that my worries were misplaced; Phaere still believes in your illusion, though I do not understand how such a rumour began to travel the city.'

'We think Fritha, the one you know as Veldrin, fabricated and began the tale on purpose,' offered Jaheira, 'A sure way to rile Phaere.'

'I see,' answered Solaufein after a pause, perhaps wondering why the girl had wanted to bring such trouble upon herself in the first instance.

'This is all absurd,' sighed Anomen angrily, collapsing in to one of the chairs, and those about him did the same. 'Phaere cannot believe it is true!'

Solaufein gave an impassive shrug. 'It does not matter whether it is true or not. Phaere is growing close to power, but she has got there standing on the shoulders of your Fritha. She is an asset and so Phaere will not kill her, but she needs for her and all others to see just who is in charge. She has likely been looking to do this for a long while. It is our way.'

'So what happens now?' asked Imoen quietly.

'Well, I would stay with you, if I may, and bind my fate to yours. Whether we escape to the surface or die trying, I am with you.'

Jaheira sighed and nodded once. 'An extra blade is always welcome, though it is slightly more complicated than that. Here,' she continued, opening the bag at her hip to show him the shinning treasure within. His jaw dropped in an almost comical surprise.

'Are those-?'

'Fake dragon eggs. Phaere has the real ones –the ones lying in the temple at this moment are also forgeries.'

'The dragon…' the drow concluded incisively, 'I had been wondering at the power behind your illusion ever since I learnt of it. You plan to use this opportunity to breach Phaere's apartments and retrieve the real eggs; I need not tell you that this will not be easy.'

Imoen snorted, more herself as she corrected tartly. '_No_, stealing them from the temple in the first place wasn't easy -compared to that, this will be child's play.'

Jaheira smiled grimly at his amazement.

'I fear she may be right; these eggs were not the only things which have been gifted to us of late.'

xxx

Fritha locked her jaw, her insides burning and she could imagine the skin peeling back, her bones charring as the pain roared through her, her teeth clenched together so tight she felt the enamel would crack, the girl holding it back until the very last instant, the scream finally breaking past her will to echo gloriously about them, an aria to her determination. And her reward was swift, the pain ebbing as the crackling rods were withdrawn once more from her torso by the eager-faced Handmaidens and she was allowed to catch her breath, hanging limp and panting roughly, this game between them the same for the last three hours.

But this time, it seemed, was the final round, Phaere's face swimming into focus as she stepped forward, the woman looking smaller from where Fritha was suspended upon the wall, the thick hide straps biting into her wrists.

'That is enough; take her down.'

Fritha collapsed to her hands and knees as the bonds were released, her limbs twitching fitfully. Everything hurt, the memory of the pain lingering within her body still and it was all she could do not flinch as she felt her presence above her. White hair curtained her off from the world, though Fritha did not need to see her face to hear Phaere's smile.

'Well, Veldrin, it seems you _were_ perhaps speaking the truth, after all –though, be warned, do _not_ give me cause to doubt you again. Guards, remove her.'

The door opened at her order, the rhythmic click of her boots echoing over the tiles as Phaere's footsteps retreated back, two pairs of strong hands scooping her under the arms to heft her upright, and Fritha's feet barely touched the ground as they whisked her from the room, the three of them flying along corridors until they finally halted.

'In here.'

She felt the rush of air as the door was shut behind her, the room they were in small and cramped with all three of them squeezed inside. Someone was pushing her down, encouraging her to sit on the small stool, no doubt used to reach the higher shelves of what looked to be the store cupboard they were crowded within, rows of jars glittering in the half-light.

One guard was already crouched before her, briskly rubbing some life back into her aching legs, the other stood at her side, a hand resting lightly on her shoulder as he pressed a small vial into her palm.

'Here, drink this.'

She glanced up, trying to focus on him through the mess of her hair, the familiar plain face looking strange in the close-fitting helmet of the temple guards.

'Je-Jehind?'

He looked mildly surprised at the address. 'You recall me?'

She smiled hazily. 'Of course, you're _far_ prettier than that Jarlaxle fellow – They've completed the exchange?'

'They certainly should have done!' Jarlaxle laughed, 'With Phaere out of the way and my magic rope, I doubt it was even a challenge.'

'You lent them your rope?'

'Yes, that Imoen of yours put forward a convincing enough argument for all her cheek. It was when we returned to collect it that we heard you were here.' He smiled wryly. 'Your own audacity was enough to pique my desire to see you one last time –now _drink_.'

The liquid was bitter, a pleasant numbness washing through her body as she swallowed.

'She went hard on you,' muttered the guard at her feet, his work finally finished as he rose and Fritha could just recognise the mage, Visaj behind the illusion he wore.

'I would not give her the satisfaction of too much screaming; thought I'd give them a decent chance to find them.'

'Can you walk?' asked Jarlaxle, 'It will look better if you can make it out of here on your own feet.'

'Yes, just give me a moment,' she sighed, slowly heaving herself from the stool, her mind growing clearer by the moment as the pain ebbed. 'The others are back at the inn?'

'Indeed, they are. Now come with us.'

The pair of them escorted her to the entrance hall, Fritha almost herself again as they reached the huge stone doors. Jarlaxle turned to her.

'And here we leave you. To say you have exceeded all my expectations would be a grave understatement.' He smiled, his verve impossible to hide behind any mask. 'I sincerely hope we meet again.'

**…**

Fritha limped up the last few steps and slowly opened the door. Jarlaxle's potion was wearing off, the pain making her limbs tremble, all faces whirling to her as she stumbled into their common room.

'Fritha!'

The scramble to vacate the sofa could have almost been amusing, though Fritha could not quite muster the energy for the emotion. She tried to lower herself on to it, her knees buckling under her own weight and she collapsed onto the violet cushions with a shuddering sigh, slowly pushing off her boots to lie down and, for a moment, the only sound was the hoarse rasp of her breathing. Imoen's whisper stirred the hair at her ear.

'Fritha, are you-?'

She raised trembling fingers to halt her. 'Where are the eggs?'

'Here,' came Jaheira, her voice soft and slightly thick as though she had a cold coming on, 'they are here.'

A dull thud as the warm metal case was placed on the rug before her and the lid removed, the shimmering silver glow bathing her face, and she could still see their light through her eyelids as she let them flutter shut.

Fritha smiled. They had won.

xxx

Fritha just had fallen asleep where she lay, the girl moving from the sofa after a couple of hours to sleep the rest of the day in her own bed.

It was just before midnight now and all were gathered in their common room making the last of their plans. According to Solaufein, the drow armies would have begun their attack just after sunset, when the light was no longer about to ravage eye and armour both. This ritual, to be held at midnight, was to be the decisive blow which would turn the battle in their favour –or, at least, it would have been.

The plan had been decided a while ago, their group and the real eggs going to wait by the gates until Ardulace unsealed them, either by death or design. Though even this was not simple; Fritha was likely to be called to the temple to enjoy a share of the triumph, a death sentence if any part of that tortuous plan went awry, and something that appeared to be upsetting for some of them.

'But, will Phaere even want you at the ritual now, after…' Imoen trailed off, unwilling to mention what had happened, even if it was the basis of her argument.

Fritha still clearly thought so. She had risen an hour ago to wash and dress for the occasion, the girl now wearing a deep violet tunic as she knelt before the large mirror Valygar had carried through from her room, Aerie stood behind her and using the combs Phaere had gifted her to pin her hair into an elaborate arrangement of loops and braids, her still cheek bearing the three swollen ridges from where the woman had clawed her.

And it seemed Solaufein was in agreement with Fritha, the man nodding wisely as he answered Imoen's doubts.

'Oh, Phaere will want her there. She will want to prove her power to all -and to Veldrin too.' He laughed grimly. 'That I could be there also, when she realises she is betrayed.'

'Yeah, well, she deserves it and more!' spat Imoen.

For the first time in a long while, Fritha spoke. 'Phaere does what she must, just as we all do.'

Solaufein was watching her reflection with an unreadable look, Anomen noticing to turn away, Imoen oblivious as she set to contest the point.

'But-'

A knock on the door halted her, Jaheira moving to answer it and barely opening it a foot, the room behind shielded from view by her long frame.

'It is a summons,' she said finally, passing the note the messenger had given her to Fritha, 'you are expected in the temple immediately.'

The girl stared at her reflection, as though, for a moment, trying to picture how she had looked before. 'There is none so sharp as the knife that comes from behind. Come,' she sighed, rising stiffly, 'it is time to finish this. All of you, take the eggs-'

The cries of outrage halted her.

'No, Fritha!'

'If the plan fails you will have no chance of escape alone!'

The girl sighed. 'And will it be any better a chance if I allow some of you to accompany me?' She shook her head, seemingly too tired to argue with them. 'Ah, as you will it. I will take two others with me: Jaheira and… Imoen. No, I will not hear any more,' she shouted over the barrage of voices, 'I can't take any men with me and you know it, so take that glare from your face for a start, Minsc. The rest of you go with Solaufein and wait by the main gates in the marketplace. They should unseal once Ardulace is dead. Go _immediately_ to Adalon –I will not hear any protests on this, Anomen. Wait with the dragon for a quarter hour, _no longer_. If we have not arrived by then you are to go without us,' she glanced to the only true drow among them, 'Solaufein can guide you to the surface.'

'But, a quarter hour is so little time,' pleaded Aerie. It was Jaheira, who refused her.

'If we do not return then something will have gone wrong and you will need the longest head start possible if you are to escape. This is greater than just us; Irenicus must be stopped. He attacks Suldanessellar now –who knows where will be next?'

The streets were deserted, the group parting ways in a whispered flurry of assurances as Fritha turned to lead them deeper into the city. The temple was alive with light, every window glowing in a rainbow of colours, purples, reds and blues, and they could hear the prayers of the priestesses even outside, the air thrumming with the chants of worship to their divine Spider Queen.

Phaere was awaiting them in the entrance hall, the woman smiling as she saw her, the pearls coiled about her neck rattling lightly as she nodded her greeting -both women wearing their alliance, though no other could read it, and if Fritha had felt as though she had at any point betrayed Phaere, it was then.

'Veldrin, you are arrived; good. The ritual will begin soon. Oh, and you have brought an entourage.'

Fritha nodded. 'Just a precaution should we meet any _resistance_ –I can have them wait outside if-'

'No, no,' Phaere cut in, 'they may attend; you are wise to think of such measures. Come, my mother is waiting.'

She led them through the many twisting corridors and finally into a dark chamber, the floor almost completely taken up by the huge summoning circle painted there in what looked suspiciously like blood, a small alter set before it and bearing the three glowing eggs. Ardulace was overseeing the final touches to the ritual circle, the woman looking up as they arrived.

'You have come, Veldrin –good. We may finally begin.'

She dismissed the Handmaidens with but a gesture, the priestesses hurrying to close the door behind them as Ardulace raised her hands, the charge of magic making Fritha's hair rise as the energies about them increased.

'O, Lord of the Abyss, I beseech you, come before us!'

The circle at their feet was glowing fiercely, casting the whole room blood red in its glow when a flash and he was before them, the huge black demon stooped slightly and wings hemmed in, his sheer size making the once spacious room seem tiny. He did not look pleased.

'YOU HAVE WRESTED ME FROM MY PLANE, DARKLING. THIS INSULT HAD BETTER HAVE GREAT RECOMPENSE OR I SHALL TAKE MY VENGEANCE IN BLOOD.'

Even Ardulace looked frightened, the woman stepping forward with a hasty bow.

'I have great reason, o Lord of fiends. I beseech you, lend your might to the drow in the coming war against the surface elves and for it I shall offer you these: eggs of a hated silver dragon, a foul creature of righteous light.'

The demon smiled, gazing down at the altar, Phaere's cruel delight reflected in his face. 'FOOLISH DARKLING, YOU MAY BE TRICKED BY SUCH SIMPLISTIC DECEPTIONS, BUT I AM NOT.'

Ardulace was backing away, the woman trembling. 'What do you mean? These- these-'

'ARE FALSE.'

She died with barely a scream, consumed in a flash of fire that left only the charred remains of her clothes and jewellery. The demon turned to Phaere, the woman hastening to remove the large bag slung at her hip.

'SO, DARKLING DAUGHTER, I SENSE YOU TOO HAVE AN OFFERING FOR ME.'

'I have, o Lord, the eggs you seek are here. I offer them as tithe for your service.'

The demon was still grinning, every sharp black tooth gleaming as he began to laugh. 'A GREAT TRICK HAS BEEN PLAYED UPON YOU, DARKLING DAUGHTER. THE EGGS YOU HOLD ARE ALSO FALSE.'

Phaere whirled to her, face lit with a wild fury. 'What? Veldrin, what have you-?'

Her outrage was cut short with her life. Fritha crouched down to where the body had been, slowly drawing a rope of blackened pearls from the charred remains of her armour.

'I have betrayed you, Phaere.'

'HMM, AN ENTERTAINING ENCOUNTER THIS HAS BEEN,' mused the demon as she straightened, 'SO, WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE NOW, BHAAL-CHILD?'

Fritha sighed. 'Your summoners are dead; leave this place.'

He disappeared in a flash of flames, the room suddenly dark as the light from the runes faded. Fritha turned to the others, Imoen and Jaheira stood silent beside her in the gloom.

'Fall in behind me, speak not a word if we are stopped, and if I go for my sword, prepare to run.'

xxx

To think he had awoken that morning contemplating just another day of his new life in exile, considering his limited options: whether go to surface as Veldrin had offered or stay in Underdark and try to seek out others of his kind, ones who also believed the drow had lost their way and who perhaps sought to worship a different kind of divinity outside that of the insatiable, jealous Lolth. And then Solaufein had heard that Veldrin had been led to the temple in disgrace and his fear had shown him his answer.

Such a strange day spent with her and the others of her company. They had been quiet, though not unwelcoming -in fact, they had barely acknowledged his presence, all caught up in their own concerns as they were. To think when he had awoken that morning that by the following one he would be stood with allies of his own before a great silver dragon.

The beast, Adalon, had been overjoyed by the return of her eggs, the creature taking the clutch gently into her mouth and carrying them far back into the depths of her lair before rejoining them. She was behind him now, waiting as they were for their final three to arrive. Solaufein glanced back, letting his eyes drink in the sight of her softly glowing scales before he returned his gaze to the blackness of the stairwell. It did not hurt to look upon her light, but it was uncomfortable after a while. He would need to get used to that though; the sun of the surface would be his enemy for some time to come. He hoped it would not make a burden of him.

Those about him were still wearing the dragon's disguises, his companions familiar in form even if not in manner, the male, Anomen, pacing nervously before the steps, Aerie stood with Haer'Dalis, the couple talking quietly while the two remaining males, Valygar and Minsc were also in conversation, the pair casting wary glances at him, though Solaufein ignored them. There was a tension to the air and he felt it too. It had been a long time since he had felt fear for someone other than himself- it brought back memories he would have preferred to forget.

He heard them before he saw them, the light patter of hurriedly descending footsteps clearly catching Anomen's ears too, the man whirling to the stairs as the three women stepped down into the chamber.

'Fritha!'

There was enough emotion in his voice to halt her, the girl pausing to let the two women precede her like a shield as the others gathered about them, Aerie looking almost tearful as she embraced the two women.

'Oh, we were so worried.'

'What happened?' pressed Valygar, 'Did everything go according to plan?'

'Yes,' Imoen announced proudly, 'In that Phaere got just what she'd coming to her.'

Fritha glanced to Solaufein, but said nothing, Jaheira continuing more helpfully.

'All went as hoped. The demon was summoned and then killed both Phaere and Ardulace for the affront. Our departure from the temple was noted, but not halted –at the pace Fritha was setting perhaps they felt it would be unwise to delay our errand. I don't believe the city is as yet alerted to their deaths, though I doubt it will remain that way for long.'

The group seemed to turn instinctively to Adalon, the dragon dipping her great silver head before Fritha.

'You have returned, god-child, and with your companions came my eggs. You sacrificed much for them and I am truly grateful. I am sorry I tricked you, but my desperation was great and it was the only path to them I could see.'

Fritha's expression was cold.

'You can lie to me; you can trick me; you can delay my own recovery, send me into that city and watch as I become the worst of them, all for your benefit, but do _not_ insult me with apologies.'

The dragon nodded; she looked rather sad.

'You are bitter –I understand and will delay you no more. I will work my way along the tunnel I once guarded where the drow and their surfacer cousins fight even now and aid the elves where I may. However, I would not suggest you join this battle, when either side are as likely to have a blade for you; your drow ally here may be able to find you a safer path to the surface. '

'And what of this illusion?' asked Anomen, more than one of the others looking eager for Adalon's answer.

'The illusion will end once you leave the Underdark.' She turned to Fritha, golden eyes grave, 'I hope you find what you seek in the end, god-child.'

**…**

Solaufein ducked the tree root that twisted down from the tunnel roof; they were growing close now, the rock finally given way to earth, the air damp and rich with the scent of it as they climbed.

He had led them through the Underdark at a breathless pace, making for the last tunnel he had used to reach the surface himself, Solaufein praying that the shifting grounds of the area had not closed it since. The gods were listening and they had been travelling steadily upwards for the last couple of hours, the way narrow and hard, a nervous energy building in him with every step. So many things were about to change forever.

He was at the back of their group now, no need to lead the way when there was only one path to follow, and he let is eyes linger on the fine mist of hair that was swinging before him as Fritha clambered over roots and rocks just ahead of him.

She was different. Not in form but attitude; no longer the confident female who had stalked about his city. The fearlessness he had found so attractive still remained, but it was coupled with an uncaring weariness now, as though she was not afraid simply because she had nothing left to lose.

He grabbed the root above him to aid his step, the girl glancing back at the deluge of earth to catch him watching.

'What is it?'

'Nothing,' he lied and, deciding it was as good a time as any to ask her, continued, 'I was just thinking… when did you realise I was not as my kin?'

Fritha shrugged. 'It was just a feeling I had. When Phaere discovered you had not joined us in slaughtering the gnome patrol, you did not tell her it had been my suggestion you ignore her orders –I suppose then was when I first began to suspect.'

Solaufein snorted crossly. 'I was a fool to let Phaere catch me and even more of one when I lost my temper with her in the middle of the tavern –as the Handmaidens at the temple were keen to show me. Though I need not speak to you of their fervour when it comes to punishing transgressions. It was cleverly done; very little would have torn Phaere from her apartments once the eggs were there –you seem to have a knack for reading people.'

She turned back to their path, stooping to duck beneath another gnarled root.

'I understand hatred. Love you or loath you, you were still one of the few people in that city Phaere cared about. I knew she would not be able to help but want revenge on me, however much I denied the rumours.'

Solaufein nodded slowly. 'Yes, I noticed your companions did not believe it either -I made no move to correct them, though I do wonder, knowing now what you are, why you lay with me in the first instance.'

Fritha frowned, her yellow eyes taking on an absent look as she considered it. 'I don't know; I just felt like it, I suppose. I've been wandering about for an age now with my virginity hanging on me like an albatross. Who knew when a better opportunity would arise?'

'Merely that? I am sure any male would be pleased to share your bed.'

'And what makes you say that? This form, you know, is but an illusion; I could be hideously ugly.'

Solaufein swallowed, unaccustomed to feeling so awkward; he had never considered that.

'Well, are you?'

The girl shrugged absently. 'No, I suppose not. Some would even say quite fair.'

He stared at her, trying to picture another face, another body behind the one with which he was so intimately familiar.

'What do you look like?'

A ghost of a smile. 'I am pale and short even for my race, with long gingery hair and a beard which I wear in two braids, an-'

'_Beard?_'

She nodded matter-of-factly. 'Yes, I am a dwarf, of course. Fritha: a proud member of the Stoneforger clan.'

'Oh!' came a delighted cry from their head, the girl, Imoen, peering upwards through a break in the earth, 'I think I can see light– it's- we're here!'

A feverish few moments of scrambling and they finally emerged sweating and grazed in the middle of a forest clearing, an inky sky of dark grey clouds visible through the web of branches. There was no moon, but even that could not mar the sudden swell of feeling in his heart, the air cold and damp and a breath of life across his soul.

The joy about him was tangible. Solaufein could not understand them, could not even recognise them, Adalon's spell fading to leave skins and mouths their own once more, though their happiness was clear in any tongue, a bubbling merry chatter much punctuated by the laughter of the pink-haired girl.

And then it stopped, a half-dozen elven scouts appearing from the undergrowth, each one heavily armed with bows held ready.

'Stand where you are and make no move towards your weapons!'

'We are not your enemies-' a tall, half-elven female began, though she was not allowed to finish.

'Silence! All will be held here while the general is informed. Any resistance will be met with force!'

And with that, two of the elves were sent for the general, the rest remaining there on guard, though no one of his company seemed particularly troubled –after what they had faced recently, the situation was likely little more than inconvenience.

Solaufein glanced to the sky, the darkness there giving no hint at the blazing light it would soon enough become. A few hours and he would be blind to that world, and he cast about their knees, the surfacer common feeling strange in his mouth as he asked of the pink-haired girl at his side, 'Ah, where is your leader, Fritha?'

She sent him a bemused frown.

'Fritha? Er, she's over there, mate.'

He followed her hand across the clearing to a huge bald warrior, the man shifting slightly as a dark-skinned male addressed him and there she was: a young, fair half-elf, her warm copper curls still arranged with the ornaments as they had been as a drow. She turned from where she had been speaking to the blue-haired man at her side, her dark eyes looking black in the gloom, and sent him a wan half-smile.

Solaufein laughed.


	93. Full circle

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Baldur's Gate', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

_For Baldur's Fan, who kept the faith._

**Full circle**

It was not much later when more guards arrived and their group was escorted deeper into the forest to finally come upon a military encampment, groups of elves gathered about the scattered tents, all well-armed and bearing the same wary scowl as their eyes followed their passage, the guards at last bringing them to a halt before a large pavilion of green canvas, two blond elves in grave discussion at its mouth.

'General, we have brought the prisoners.'

'Prisoners?' repeated Valygar coolly. The elves ignored him, the younger of the pair letting his gaze fall upon Solaufein and not bothering to hide his disgust.

'I see it was as I suspected: collaborators, General, what else could they be who would willingly travel with such filth?'

'Do not speak of-' Jaheira's defence was cut short as the young elf threw a finger at Fritha.

'Indeed, look, that one even wears their ornaments.'

Fritha was suitably conciliatory. 'My tunic's Calimshite linen; do you assume I am allied to that people, as well?'

'Stand down, Sergeant,' interrupted the older elf tiredly, the light from the torches glinting on his finely etched breast plate, 'she is correct; though worrying, such things prove little. Welcome, I am General Sovalidaas and I would have you know now, I do not trust you and I have no reason to do so yet, though that may soon change… I have little time to waste upon you, but my scouts said you arrived from the depths and I merely wished to see if the darkness of that place was in your eyes… I am undecided.'

Fritha merely shrugged. 'Oh, I'm sure it is there, though through little fault of the drow. Now, do you plan to tell us what this is about?'

'No,' the elf answered promptly, eyes catching something behind them and Jaheira turned to see a tall elf of white blond hair and noble bearing making his approach, two robed elves flanking him. 'Ah, here comes his Highness. Now we will find the truth in this. Prince Elhan has experience of the enemy and is well versed in matters of interrogation.'

'I've had more than a little experience of it myself,' muttered Fritha.

'So, these are the newcomers, General,' came the commanding and unusually deep voice as the Prince finally arrived.

'That they are, your Highness,' Sovalidaas answered promptly, both he and the sergeant raising their hands in respectful salute. Elhan nodded, eyes quickly assessing their company, before a shrewd smile was twisting his mouth.

'Well, I thank you for coming-'

'Do not waste your pleasantries on us,' snapped Fritha, 'we were given little choice. Now, who are you and what do you want?'

Elhan raised a cool eyebrow. 'Exactly the question I was going to put to you, though I am in a better position to make demands, I think.'

Fritha snorted darkly. 'We'll see.'

Jaheira felt her stomach groan, wondering how long before her keeping solidarity with Fritha and the girl's temper would get them all killed. Elhan thankfully chose to ignore her last comment though, the elf all business as he continued succinctly, 'I shall keep this brief and a few questions are all I need, regardless; you will speak what you know and my sages will detect any falsehood. Now then, something simple to begin with: you emerged from the Underdark, were you fleeing the drow or are you, in fact, in league with them?'

'_Oh for-!_ We don't have time for this!' Fritha shouted, 'Where are Bodhi and Irenicus? Are they still within your city?'

'You will answer our questions!' snapped Sovalidaas.

'_Gods help me!_ I did not fight my way through the Underdark all for the whim of that _bitch_ of a dragon, so I can be delayed here by _you!_ Where are Bodhi and Irenicus?'

'What do you want of them?' demanded Elhan. Fritha looked wild.

'To_ kill them!_ What _else?_'

The prince snapped his attention to the nearest sage. 'Does she speak the truth?'

The two elves shared a blank look, one shaking his head while the other offered nervously, 'I- I cannot tell, your Highness.'

'_Hells' teeth!_' shrieked Fritha. Elhan whipped back to them, a finger flung to the only elf of their company.

'You! Confirm her words!'

'It's true,' agreed Aerie, 'It's all true, we aren't here to fight you; we just need to find them.'

A glance to the sages to see their nods, and Elhan sighed, at last calmed. 'I see… Then whoever you are, we are on the same side in this, at least.'

'Good,' snapped Fritha, 'Now where are they?'

'Irenicus battles the remaining forces of Suldanessellar even now.'

'Then why are you here?' asked Jaheira, 'The drow are no longer a threat; those parties most eager for war are no longer in favour within their city.'

Sovalidaas nodded. 'Indeed, we noticed their forces were recalled some time ago; reports reaching us that whatever had bound the great silver guardian from her usual duties had been lifted. It was only when we made to return, we discovered Irenicus's greatest crime: Suldanessellar is gone.'

A sharp intake of breath about her, Minsc voicing their dismay. 'Such evil, to destroy an entire city!'

But Elhan was grimly shaking his head. 'No, it is not destroyed, thanks be -at least, not yet. But Irenicus has used his magics to seal and hide the city from us. I now believe the drow's attack on the temple ruins was merely to lure us out here, that we would leave the city weakened, ready for his infiltration.'

'You speak only of Irenicus,' pressed Fritha, 'where is his sister in all this?'

'I could not say, but…' the prince trailed off, glancing to the general, some spark of understanding passing between them as he continued slowly, 'Within the temple ruins was kept an artefact of great power: the Rhynn Lanthorn. It is attuned to the city; we could simply walk past the seals had we possession of it. The relic was stolen when the temple fell to the drow. We have been unable to divine its location with any accuracy since, but believe it lies in the far north west of here, somewhere within the human territories.'

Anomen nodded. 'Bodhi holds a stronghold in Athkatla. If Irenicus planned to seal the city all along, he must have known this relic could break it. It would have made sense that Bodhi be sent off with the object in her care.'

'So much trouble though…' sighed Aerie, 'what brought Irenicus here to begin with? We know he seeks great power, but outside of that…'

Elhan said nothing, the general offering after a slight pause, 'We could not say, we know only as much as you in this. The attack came without warning, born in the mind of one who is not known to us.'

The young sergeant snorted his anger. 'He dealt with drow, defiled the temple and brought war to our city! He is all we elves are not; the shame he has brought us is intolerable!'

'Shame?' repeated Haer'Dalis shrewdly, 'What shame for you is there in the flights of a bird outside your flock?'

The elf flushed scarlet. 'Well, only that we were unable to defend against him.'

Fritha glanced to the two sages. 'You want to confirm that?' She snorted at their unnerved expressions. 'Thought not. Right,' she sighed, turning back to the prince, 'we are tired to say the least. We will rest here, restock our supplies and set out for Athkatla with the high sun.'

'Wait,' Sovalidaas stalled as they turned to go, 'I fear this is not the last of it. What of your dark ally there?'

'Solaufein? What of him?' Imoen frowned, the man himself edging forward a step as he finally spoke up.

'I understand my presence here may cause some disquiet within you, but be assured I am a follower of Eilistraee and have long been awaiting a chance to leave my people for the surface.'

Elhan did not seem unsympathetic to his plight, even as he shook his head.

'That may well as be, but I fear I cannot let you just leave here; the recovery of the Lanthorn is paramount to our city's survival. If you were to betray us-'

'So what do you expect?' snapped Fritha, 'Us to just surrender him to you as a prisoner?'

'Well, that would be one option,' conceded Sovalidaas, 'though there is another. You may leave with them, drow, if you agree to be subject to a geas which will ensure your loyalty to our cause until such a time as you return with the Lanthorn.'

Valygar snorted crossly. '_More_ fell magics?'

And it seemed for once he and Aerie were in agreement, the girl glancing warily back and forth between the two men as she murmured, 'A geas? I am not so sure…'

Fritha was, though. 'If there is any truly evil magic in the Realms, then it is a geas; to take away someone's free will, it is worse than taking their soul.'

Solaufein turned from her to address the two elves in common far politer than any of they would have likely afforded their soon-to-be jailors.

'I would rather not put myself at the mercy of such powerful magics.'

Elhan nodded once. 'Then it is decided; you will remain here. You understand you will not be allowed the same freedoms given the rest of my warriors, but your stay will be tolerable. Arvden- the amulet,' the prince commanded, the sage to his left hastening to pull the heavy gold pendant from his pocket. 'Here,' Elhan continued, hooking the necklace over Fritha's outstretched palm, 'this relic is attuned to the temple ruins. Use it once you have the Lanthorn and it will transport you back here at once. I need not tell you that time is of the essence.'

Imoen snorted. 'Oh, you're more right that you know.'

They left the elves there, Fritha leading them to a clearing on the edge of the elves' encampment to make a camp of their own, a couple of soldiers arriving with tents, rations and other supplies not long afterwards.

Fritha leaned back against the broad trunk behind her, feeling the uneven pattern of bark through her tunic, the roots about her forming a twisted throne as she gazed out across the forest from her lofty perch, a steep bank falling away at her side, down to a river she could hear rather than see. The sun was risen, but only barely, the light mist that suffused in the forest a warm gold under its glow and she could see the disk of it through the haze. It was strange seeing it so clearly, that great burning sphere usually too bright to look upon, now so small and perfectly round, no bigger than a winter moon; such a small thing of such abundant importance.

She could hardly believe it was nearly the close of Hammer; they had been away from the city for over a month and her thoughts turned to her theatre, one of the few things of permanence left within her life. Were they doing well, still performing the Sorcerer's Bane? Or had they moved on to something else by now, her theatre the playground of some foreign troupe while her own players rehearsed some new drama. She hoped Higgold had recalled his promise regarding their next endeavour –she had had enough of tragedies.

Fritha leaned further back, letting her head loll against the rough bark. She was tired. She had been so filled, so alive with the burning desire to get them all out alive, she had not realised how exhausted it had left her. Down there, in the darkness, it had felt like an act, all feelings suppressed by the mask she had worn. But here in her own form she realised how little there was left within –just an empty yawning hole, more of her slipping away each moment and she could feel it stirring behind her senses, just waiting for its time: the essence.

_And that is why we should be finding a way to get in that city!_

'We are, but Bodhi holds the key to-'

_Ha! Don't try and fob me off with that! You'd have had them go after Bodhi whatever Elhan had said!_

There was no use in denying it, and the idea had been occupying her thoughts ever since the elves had told her. She had crawled from the Underdark with just enough rage and will left to fight the pair, but it seemed their encounter was not to be just yet –perhaps even at all… Bodhi would be killed a world away from Irenicus –if not for her soul, was there any need for her to face him at all?

_There is every need! He has your soul! We've spoken of this before -another fortnight and you'll be dead!_

'So?'

_So? SO? Why, you-! Do you want to lose yourself to that creature? Do you want to die, murdered by your own companions? We must fight against it! We must get your soul back!_

'Shush, give me some peace, all right?' she sighed tiredly, 'We can talk later.'

She felt the disgruntled mutter growl through her mind and then all fell silent once more, Fritha turning from the forest to let her attention drift to the others, her companions further back from the edge and busy about the small camp. It was harder to see them in their own forms once more, the looks of distress much easier to bear on faces she did not recognise; she was likely the first person to have ever felt so, but the Underdark had made her soft.

Aerie stood gazing about at the forest and clearly enjoying the sunshine, Haer'Dalis moving to wrap her in a cloak's embrace, the man leaning in to whisper something at her ear that made her smile. Anomen and Jaheira were further back still, looking over some maps the elves had gifted to them, Minsc nearby and dividing his attention between them and Boo who was scurrying about the grass. Valygar was standing on the other side of the fire, performing the stretches of his archery practise and distracting Imoen, the girl knelt by the firepit stirring the steeping tea, Solaufein knelt next to her and seemingly still trying to become accustomed to his new surroundings from the way he was gazing about them.

He had been allowed to stay in their company until the time they would depart, one of the elves who had arrived with their supplies, bringing a hat for him, shallow-crowned and wide-brimmed, as the farmers and shepherds often wore in the southern lands, the elf handing him a bundle of fine black mesh that was likely used to keep the insects from tents the warmer months and Aerie and Imoen had spent a moment helping him arrange it like a veil, though Fritha doubted even that would be enough to shield his eyes once the sun rose proper.

Solaufein glanced back to notice her watching them, his face unreadable beneath the veil, and Fritha was about to turn away when he was suddenly on his feet, approaching her with a cup of the just-brewed tea.

'Here,' he murmured, not waiting for an invitation as he sank down next to her, his back to the east as he folded back the veil, the pale grey eyes two pools of silver in the shadow of his hat.

Fritha muttered a 'thank you' and silence fell between them, the girl setting the tea untouched at her feet and turning her attention to her bag, removing her hairbrush, mirror and the small mother-of-pearl case in which her combs had first arrived. Next to her, Solaufein shifted, his gaze trained upon the company he had left as he observed, 'Your friends seem glad to leave Ust Natha behind, but you appear less happy.'

Fritha shrugged, moving her hands up to finally begin to take out her hair. 'The darkness was forgiving… there are things I must face in the light- _pfst!_'

He glanced back at her hiss, Phaere's tortures not so easily forgotten as she lifted her arms and the pain stabbed all through her back.

'Here, let me,' he murmured, hands already raised as though he would soothe the ache, the girl wrenching herself painfully out of reach.

'_What-_ What are you doing? Why are you here?'

Solaufein did not look hurt. He did not look anything, his expression carefully neutral as he offered, 'I... if my company is unwelcome-'

Fritha sighed, tiredly plucking the combs from her hair and letting it fall about her tress by tress as she placed each neatly back within its case.

'Where you sit is quite beyond my care, Solaufein, but if you want to start building lasting alliances up here, then I suggest you go back to the rest of them, because _I_ am on my way out.'

He frowned, clearly trying to translate the colloquialism. 'On your way… you are _dying?_'

'Yes.'

'That is it? You are dying, and that is that?'

Fritha smiled at his disbelief- hope was such a cruel thing.

'Well, I suppose there is a slight chance. If I can walk all the way back across Amn, kill a nest of vampires, get back here, enter an occupied city, fight my way through to Irenicus and retrieve my soul, then perhaps I may survive. So, yes, for all intents and purposes, I'm dying.'

He stared at her along while, his face shaded beneath the hat and heavy gathering of veil and when he spoke his voice was quiet.

'I- I am sorry for that.'

Fritha blinked once and turned away, his sincerity somehow making it worse.

'You know, you are the very first to have expressed such regret. For many it was lost in the worry at my sudden change in outlook.' She glanced to him with a wan smile. 'Let us just say that my recent performance in Ust Natha would have once been an act I would have found almost impossible to sustain. Some of the things I did…'

'I understand. There is much cruelty in that world –I, too, was forced to wear the mask and partake in much of it…'

But Fritha was shaking her head, the drawn smile back. 'Oh, do not mistake me, Solaufein. I am not ashamed of my actions -nor am I proud. I did what I did and that is that. Look at them,' she sighed, gesturing to the others as she finally took up her hairbrush, 'they wanted to crawl through the Underdark and emerge alive, as clean and beautiful as when they went in, like flowers sprouting from the ground. Someone had to get their hands dirty.'

He sent her a grave look. 'And what stains your hands, Fritha? I know of only Illithids and svirfneblin.'

'Oh, the list is much longer than that, but I am glad to say deep gnomes are not upon it.'

'But you-'

'Presented Phaere with a bloody helm, just as I presented her with your bloody cloak and we both know how dead you are.'

'You did not kill them?'

'No, because I did not have to. But I would have… had I had to. Just as I would have murdered you; just as I murdered Phaere… Are you sad I had to kill her?'

Solaufein shrugged, turning to play with the grass at his feet, letting the silken blades run through his long fingers.

'The Phaere I loved died long ago. When I knew you were to kill her I felt… relief and small amount of satisfaction too. It is hard, to have the woman whom you once loved torment you for a decade. I am no saint, Fritha, and there was much resentment in my heart, at first at Ardulace and the Handmaidens but over time, as I realised how Phaere had taken to her new role, it gradually began to focus upon her.'

Silence between them again, Fritha slowly stroking the brush through her frizzy curls, the chatter of the others mixing with the melodious murmur of the distant elves.

'So, what will you do here in our absence?'

Solaufein quirked a rare smile. 'I will try to aid our new _allies_ and grow accustomed to this light.'

'Yes,' Fritha sighed, raising her face to the pale sky, 'the glare does take some endurance…'

Another long pause; Fritha's hair was all combed through, though she kept up her brushing as she waited for him to gather his final question.

'Fritha, why did you lie with me?'

'I told you: I'm dying -I didn't know whether a better opportunity would arrive.'

He watched her face a moment, before making his conclusion.

'You lie.'

She snorted. 'Constantly, but never to myself and that I think I should get some credit for that.'

'You are ashamed now?' he pressed curiously. Fritha blithely shook her head.

'Oh, no; of all the things I did in Ust Natha, you were the least disagreeable. Why do you seem so stuck upon this? It wasn't like I broke your duck or anything.'

'Broke my…' he repeated; _that_ slang defying translation.

'What I mean is, it's not as though you hadn't done anything like that before.'

'No,' he conceded, looking almost embarrassed to continue, 'but with your reaction to me now… I do not like that idea that it was something done to maintain your act -that you were somehow _unwilling_…'

Fritha closed her eyes, her voice softer than she was used to hearing it as she sighed, 'Ah, well, then be assured, there were many instances down there that forced my hand, but that was not once of them.'

'I… am glad.'

'Fritha?'

Solaufein did not recognise the rest of his discourse as he turned to look up at the now tall, broad figure of Anomen, though the girl did not let the human continue long.

'Speak common, Anomen, we should oblige our guest.'

The man frowned, but heeded her. 'Fritha, your face, you should let someone tend those cuts.'

'They're fine,' the girl dismissed, taking up her mirror to give the three pink welts that still scored her cheek a detached appraisal.

'I have some salve here, Fritha.'

'I said, they're _fine_.'

'They could scar,' he pressed. She shrugged, lowering the mirror to go back to her brushing.

'Then they will scar. Besides, I rather like them; I look like I've got whiskers, and they go nicely with the star on my stomach.'

'The star?' repeated Solaufein, the girl nodding as she loosely tied back her bright copper mane.

'I got stabbed with a broken lance but a month back –the scar it left, a white starburst just above my hip.'

Solaufein thought it sounded rather pleasing, though the male above them was clearly not in agreement, Anomen's face twisted with a pained frown.

'Fritha, if you would-'

Fritha slammed her brush down onto the box with a resounding _crack_, the girl suddenly on her feet. 'Anomen, for the last time, _please_, just leave me alone!'

And she was gone, marching off through the trees, copper curls escaping with every angry step. Solaufein gazed up at the man she had left, Anomen staring after her with an unreadable look.

'I do not understand why you invite her ire.'

Anomen shrugged, eyes still trained on where she had been. 'Such would not have angered her before.'

'I understand she has changed, that she is not that woman anymore, but is who she has become so terrible? She is still strong and courageous, for all her sharpness. Can you not just accept her as she is?'

Anomen snorted humourlessly, but with so little effort it sounded more like a sigh. 'Accept her? You do not know of what you speak.'

'You loved her,' said Solaufein simply, Anomen whirling to him with a ferocious passion.

'We _all_ loved her! You could not help it! She was like the sun, so bright and good, bathing everything around her in light! Now she is just all anger and hate and that gods-awful weary look she gets when she is too tired to muster either… like now.'

'What happened between the two of you?'

The man shook his head, loathed to recall it. 'One of my _many_ faults is a tendency to let my temper rule my tongue. I said something, something unforgivable –not the first instance I have done so, but this time, she agreed with me. So I will continue to press my concerns upon her, because, selfish though it is, I prefer to see her spitting venom at me, than that drained look she gets when she is left alone, like she has already given up.'

xxx

Imoen ignored the painful tingle, enjoying the feel of the water flowing about her hands, sweeping over her skin like an icy silk, the outline of her fingers rippling just under the surface of the stream. It was nice there, stood beneath the trees with the water rushing about her calves, the mist that still rolled golden about them giving the place an ethereal air. Aerie was a little way behind her filling the group's collected bottles and flasks for the journey to come, the elf seeming not to mind that Imoen had yet to begin to help her in the task.

_In a moment_, the girl promised herself, stooping to splash some water up over her face and neck, the icy blast almost taking her breath away –the extremes were easier to feel nowadays. She had been wanting some time away from the others since they had left the Underdark, an opportunity to collect her thoughts and work out the feelings that were growing increasingly dull within her. And in the peace of that glade she had come to her conclusion.

'Here, throw us the big one, Aerie, I'll get it filled.'

'Oh, ah, thank you,' Aerie faltered, the offer seemingly catching her out. Imoen grinned as she caught the large leather flask.

'Nah, I should have helped earlier. It's nice here, isn't it? I _never_ thought I'd be happy to see another forest after the Cloakwood. It's good being on the surface again, too. I like the light- it reminds me of who I am.' Imoen drew a deep breath, forcing herself to look up and face, not only Aerie, but herself as well. 'I am sorry for how I was, Aerie, in the Underdark and before. I want to blame it all on my soul being taken, but that just seems like the easy way out.'

Aerie was already shaking her head. 'You've already apologised, Imoen, there is no need.'

But Imoen knew differently, the girl wading to the bank to heave the now full flask onto the grass and step out after it.

'No, there is. I spent all that time in the asylum lost in dreams of how things had been -it kept me going. And then to have Fritha finally arrive and find everything had changed… I just wanted things to return to the way they'd been, to find it all lost brought out the worst in me and without my soul there to stop it…' She shrugged; they both knew what she had been like, it was time to move on from it. Imoen sighed. 'My soul has gone and when I look inside myself, I find I don't like what it's left behind –all selfishness and hate. I know I'll have it back soon, but I don't want to just wait for that. I want to be like I was, be nice again, and not from my soul, but just with the force of who I am. I want to be a better person, right from the core, because if I'm not, then this Bhaal stuff in me, it's like it's already won.'

Aerie was smiling, the elf dusting off her robes as she straightened. 'You _are_ a good person, Imoen, right from the heart, and I think you just proved it.'

Imoen smiled too and a friendly embrace sealed the pledge.

'Oh, sorry,' came a voice behind them, the girls parting to see Fritha stood on the edge of the trees and about to take her leave, Imoen hastening to halt her. 'Fritha, wait! I want to talk to you.'

'What about?' she asked, trudging over to them. Her face was mottled pink in a look Imoen recognised from the many times in her youth some 'unwarranted' scolding had left her with the desire to cry, but with a burning rage that had dried up all the tears.

'Just- what's wrong? You seem angry-' Imoen paused an instant, correcting playfully, 'well, angri_er_.'

Fritha missed the joke, sighing heavily as she shrugged. 'Anomen, as usual –_why_ he can't just leave me alone. Anyway, what do you want?'

Imoen smiled, closing to lay a hand upon her arm. 'To say sorry. I know it was hard for you down there and I know that some of the things I did couldn't have made it easier and we fought more than once, but in spite of everything, I want you to know you're my friend and I still love you.'

Fritha face was blank. 'Oh. Right.'

Imoen felt the familiar hurt throb. 'That's _all_ you have to-' A terse sigh vented the frustration. 'I- I understand, Fritha. Don't worry, it will come back. You will feel it again, like I will…'

Fritha was staring back at her, a new intensity awaking in her eyes that Imoen had not seen since they first arrived in Ust Natha and, for a moment, she thought her friend would embrace her, Fritha's voice cool and quiet with her resolve.

'I will kill Bodhi for you, Imoen. I swear it.'

Imoen smiled and nodded; it wasn't quite a hug, but she understood.

xxx

The girls had returned from the river an hour ago, two elves arriving to escort Solaufein back to their camp a short while later, where he could make his prayers and sleep the rest of the day under guard as Elhan had decreed. He had left them all with the courteous wish that their mission was a successful one, the man singling out Fritha to express a sincere hope to see her again alive to which she dipped her head and said it was out of her hands.

The day was dawning proper now, the mist finally burning off as their group gathered about the firepit, the air over them heavy and reflective as they prepared to bed down for a few hours sleep. Jaheira watched those about her, her gaze drawn, as it was more often than not, to the girl at her side, Fritha sat upon her bedding steadily reading from the same green volume that had so occupied her in Ust Natha. She was quieter than she had been lately, the fire that had once dragged them through the Underdark now gone, replaced by a hunger that seemed happy enough feeding on something within when there was no immediate anger available, and Fritha looked rather ill in her old skin, her face unpleasantly gaunt, Jaheira trying to recall more than a handful of occasions over the last tenday where the girl had sat and taken a meal with them.

'Some thing to eat, Fritha?' she asked hopefully. The girl shrugged, still reading.

'All right.'

The woman felt a surge of triumph only for it instantly to be replaced with foolishness at such a petty, pointless victory.

'What are you reading there?' Jaheira continued in a sigh, plating up a generous helping of bread, dried fruit and seeds. The girl glanced up from the pages with an absent frown.

'Oh, just one of my old books. It's a romance of tender beginnings, standard hardships and the obligatory happy ending- I've read it twice before now and each time had me in tears from the second chapter.'

Jaheira said nothing, just looked at her, searching her so far dry eyes for something that probably wasn't there anymore. Fritha's frown intensified and it took the druid a moment to realise she had reached out to take the girl's hand.

'That it is lost to you now, does not mean it has departed for good.'

Fritha nodded awkwardly, easing her fingers from her own as she took the plate from her, laying it in her lap and tidying away her book as she prepared to pick through her meal.

'So, you have planned our route back to the city?'

'Yes,' the druid nodded, glad she seemed willing to talk after so many days of avoiding them, 'we can go by river for much of it -it could take as little as four days if we are fortunate enough to be able to get a boat the whole way.'

'Well, let us hope for that then, though I suppose we should be thankful we can make any way by water; it would take over a tenday by foot alone.'

'Ah, I know this may sound silly, but what are we going to do when we reach the city?' asked Aerie, the elf settling on her own bedding to join the discussion. Minsc laughed at the obviousness of it.

'Find Bodhi and take our revenge!'

Aerie looked reluctant to continue, her hesitance seeming to draw the rest of them into the conversation, as the men and Imoen pressed around.

'But, well, what if that doesn't get Imoen's soul out? What if Bodhi just dies and nothing happens?'

'We should have considered that,' muttered Anomen; his angry scowl indicating just _who_ he was blaming for the oversight, 'I will consult with the High Watcher upon our return.'

Valygar was frowning as well. 'Perhaps Bodhi will need to be captured and drained of it as you were.'

'By the Lady, I don't fancy that ride,' laughed the tiefling, 'that Reed berk was challenge enough!'

Imoen remained firm. 'It won't come to that. My soul will come back to me. Don't ask me how, I just know it will. When we first faced Bodhi in the asylum, I could feel it -it wants to come back and it's going to.'

'Imoen does stand a good chance of recovery,' offered Haer'Dalis practically, 'in theory, Bodhi is already dead.'

'And you, Fritha?' asked Aerie quietly. The girl popped a grape into her mouth with a careless shrug.

'I don't have an answer for you. Irenicus will need to be killed, come what may, and I will either get my soul back and live, or I won't and I'll die. _And_ I should probably mention here-' She whipped her head suddenly to the side, snapping at some unseen interruption, '_yes, I'm going to tell them, why not?_' Fritha turned back to them, 'I don't think I've much longer left.'

A round of nervous glances, Anomen voicing with the predictably tempered distress, 'But Imoen is a tenday further on that you, and she-'

'Has hardly been exhibiting the same signs, has she?' Fritha cut in dully, like she had rehearsed this all before, 'Bhaal's essence was not distributed evenly, Irenicus told me that. There is more inside me, much more, and in housing it, in suppressing the form it would have me take, it is eating me away.'

'How could you know this?' asked Jaheira, no doubt what she was saying was the truth of it.

The girl dipped her face. 'I just… sense it.'

'Sense it?' repeated Anomen sharply, 'Fritha, I understand you perhaps feel-'

'Oh gods, all right, Anomen, I was told it! I hear a voice, but not like the usual one, it –_Oh shut up,' _she snapped, shaking her head as though to rattle the demons it contained, '_they need to understand!-_ it knows things, things I could not know. I think it is my instinct or something, I _–oh, for goodness' sake, surely the more of us that know the better? Oh, fin- yes, fine then, you do that!_' She sighed deeply, at last turning back to them, 'It's sulking now.'

Anomen looked horrified. 'Fritha-'

'I'm not mad!' she snapped, almost pleadingly, 'The voice -it was like before at first, it helped. But we've been disagreeing more and more of late. It is very adamant about getting our- I mean, _my_ soul back, and at the expense of all else; it knows I am running out of time. Even now I can feel a tiredness creeping in -Imoen senses it too, don't you?'

Imoen looked almost embarrassed as all eyes snapped to her, the girl nodding uncertainly, 'I, well, yeah. I thought I was just tired from the travelling and the dreams, but it's getting harder and harder to wake up each morning.'

Fritha looked grim. 'Leave it long enough and one day soon you won't.'

'Imoen?' Jaheira pressed, the woman relieved to see the determined fire that had long ago left her friend's eyes.

'Don't worry about me; I can last till we reach Bodhi.'

'And you, Fritha?' asked Anomen quietly. Fritha sighed, picking absently at the heavily seeded bread.

'I can feel it even now, the essence grows closer to the surface. I cannot hold my temper as I once could, and soon I will not be able to hold it back either; in battle I would just be a liability. I think I've about a fortnight left, perhaps two tenday at the most, after that… well, even killing Irenicus might not make a difference.'

xxx

They had been seven days on the move now, setting out from the forests that ran along the Amn-Tethyr border to walk the two days to the river Jaheira had hoped would halve their journey. Indeed, all had looked hopeful as they found passage on an elven trading barge, the captain agreeing to take them as far north as Lake Esmel where Trademeet rose, a hub of commerce on the north-eastern banks. And so it was another two days on that ship, trying to keep out of the way in that already cramped boat as they travelled a river whose local name they did not know, though the elves had named it 'Viper's Tongue' in their own language, for the way it apparently forked so neatly at the source.

But Lake Esmel was as far as their fortunes lasted, the fog there so thick they could not see the other side of the lake as they sailed along the eastern banks, the frosted rushes sticking from the icy grey water like black spears, as though a whole army lay waiting beneath the surface. They disembarked to spend an hour or so stood on the freezing jetties, before soon coming to the realisation that no boats were leaving for Athkatla within the next few days, at least, and their group reluctantly set out for the city on foot.

The weather was very cold. The elves had gifted them tents; light flimsy-looking things that withstood a lot more punishment that their thin frames would have suggested. There was no snow, but the rain was relentless and more than a few nights those not on watch were awoken by the great rumbles of thunder, lightning forking across the distant hills.

Imoen trudged along, trying to ignore the cold wind and the way every blast bit at her exposed face, the skin tight with the wet and cold, her limbs aching under the weight of her laden pack. It had been a while since she had been forced to hike anywhere, months in fact, the weather much milder back when they'd travelled the Sword Coast, and, truth be told, she was finding it hard. They had been on the move before dawn that morning, walking the narrow forest road in a light drizzle that, like her pack, had only grown heavier as the day had worn on. At least this was their last night out in the wilds. They would arrive at their destination tomorrow: Athkatla, a city where she had already spent a tenday, though admittedly in a dungeon far beneath the crowded streets.

Imoen shrugged her aching shoulders and the pack they bore, and leaned into the wind. Every step took her closer to it and an animalistic thrill trembled through her stomach as she thought of her soul there just waiting for her, hungering to return from that cold, lifeless shell and she wondered how Fritha felt, when every step was taking _her_ further away.

Imoen glanced ahead, but could not see the girl past the collection of bodies that marched before her. It likely would have told her little anyway. Fritha had hardly spoken to anyone for days now, outside of commands or the mundane chatter that accompanied maps and ration. She did not seem angry though, or impatient to reach the city, or even upset, the girl just trudging through the days with a kind of sad acceptance. Sometimes Imoen would catch her gazing about the forests, which she realised Fritha must have walked a few times now as they closed upon the city, a certain wistfulness to her friend's manner. Imoen wondered what she would be like when they finally made it back to the elves. They still had no idea as to whether merely killing Irenicus would be enough to release her soul -Fritha seemed reluctant to discuss the subject, as though perhaps she had no plans for its occurrence.

Imoen winced, closing her eyes as a violent gust of icy wind howled over them, her hood thrown back with the force, and Valygar glanced back at her curse. She sent him a grin, shaking the wet hair back from her face and fighting to pull her hood back up as he slowed to walk next to her.

'I think I saw less water on the boat. What was it me and Fritha used to sing? _Rain, rain, go away. Come again another day._'

The ranger smiled slightly. 'We should be thankful; this time of year often yields snow, not rain.'

Imoen nodded, unable to suppress the wistful sigh that had risen in her –she was not normally one for melancholy, but the season made it feel almost obligatory.

'I know. I can hardly believe the Midwinter feast is tomorrow –it's almost Alturiak… Where has this year gone? You know this time last year I was living in Candlekeep –me and Fritha dancing about in the kitchens, _helping_ Beth make preparations for the feast. I remember, I'd wanted my hair curled for the party and later in the evening Fritha stood behind me with a bowl of water and a ripped up bed sheet, ragging my hair as I fidgeted and squirmed and made it as difficult as possible –and after I'd begged her to help too!' Imoen laughed fondly at the memory, and the night of discomfort that had followed. 'She had her revenge on me though, intended or not –those bloody knotted up rags poking me; I didn't sleep two hours together that night. What is it?' Imoen asked as she glanced up to find Valygar watching her with a smile.

'Nothing. It is just easy to forget how young you both are.'

'Ah, we're not young,' Imoen laughed, 'we're just immature –I'm one and twenty next month!'

Valygar was still smiling faintly to himself –that clearly sounded young to him, but did not feel that way to her. Candlekeep had been sheltered; a nice place to grow up, but it was hard not to wonder at which the price such safety had come. She had missed out on so many parts of growing up- well she would have, if she had bothered to yet. Imoen sighed.

'Twenty years old and I'm ragging my hair, twenty one and I'm fighting for my soul. It's strange how life seems to change so quickly.'

'And people too,' Valygar offered mildly, 'I notice your temperament has been much calmer of late.'

Imoen smiled at his phrasing –he could have just said she was being less of a cow, but it was nice that he'd noticed. She shrugged.

'Yeah, well, it's easier to see who we are in the sunlight- well, metaphorically, anyway,' she added, with a glance to the boiling grey sky. 'I'm trying to improve the person I am –you know, get you all used to what a saint really I am, before I get my soul back and I'm returned to my revoltingly righteous self.'

'I see. Well, I shall try to prepare myself for- damn!' he cursed, one of the leather straps on his pack suddenly giving way, the heavy bag released to swing from one shoulder.

'Careful there,' Imoen giggled, 'language like that once I've my soul back and I'll be in a dead faint.'

He snorted grimly, gently heaving off the pack to set it on the gravel path that was now more mere that road, Imoen leaning in with a werelight to aid his investigation.

'It it just where the rivet was through it,' he sighed, showing her the torn leather than lead up to the now empty hold, 'I can fix it once we stop.'

Imoen smiled, reaching forward an already glowing hand. 'Here, I can seal it until- hey!' she cried as he whipped it suddenly from reach, his face an angry twist of conflicting emotions.

'It is fine, Imoen; I can carry it with just one.'

'Oh, don't be an arse! The magics you've had worked on you of late, to get all pissy over a mending cantrip. Look, I've enough curses on me without you thinking one of my few attributes is one, as well.'

'What's wrong back here?' came a high voice next to them, Aerie and Haer'Dalis appearing through the curtain of rain, 'Why have you stopped?'

'No reason,' Imoen assured her, 'just Valygar being an arse.'

'Imoen! I merely expressed-'

'That I'm an evil mage, but a cantrip from corruption.'

'Oh, _that_,' said Aerie, like she knew just how that went.

'Now, Valygar,' tutted Haer'Dalis, 'these young ladies of the Art, they do not like their use of the Weave to be brought into question.'

The ranger remained resolute. 'Every man must follow his own beliefs.'

'Even if they're _wrong?_' goaded Imoen

'Even then.'

Aerie sighed, turning back to their path. 'Come on, we'll lose- oh.'

Ahead of them were the remaining four of their company, not striding off into the distance, but halted as they were about a well-cloaked man who was dragging a large covered handcart.

'Looks as though we have stopped,' offered Valygar. Imoen just bit back a snide exclamation of 'No, _really?_', instead raising her voice to shout, 'Here, Minsc, what's going on?'

The huge ranger turned back at the sound and was instantly ambling over to them in his easy gait.

'The merchant stopped to tell us that this path on which we would travel is flooded but a league away. The water was not deep, but it was fast moving and rising quickly. He entered, in what he sees now as folly, and barely made it across. That was an hour ago.'

They glanced up as the rumble of wheels caught their attention, the merchant on the move again and nodding politely to them as they made room for him on the narrow path. The map was already out as they rejoined the others, Fritha's eyes scanning over the fine lines as Anomen fought to hold it still in the blustery winds.

'Well, we will have to cut north through the forests. If the land is flooding here, the Sahon's Ford will likely be too dangerous to cross. We will have to head back up stream and cross at the Old Bridge. From there we can join the High Road tomorrow and take that route all the way to the city.'

'We would be in de'Arnise land,' offered Anomen quietly. Jaheira peered a moment at the map.

'Indeed. Old Bridge is barely a league from the keep. Well, if we are travelling that close-'

'No,' said Fritha firmly. Jaheira looked liked she'd been expecting that.

'Fritha, it makes sense.'

'No. We will continue until it is dark and then make camp.'

Another blast of icy wind howled about them, Anomen hurrying to furl the map before it escaped him; the druid was fast losing her temper.

'Fritha, we are barely two hours from the dusk! We are all tired and the weather could not be worse; we will seek hospitality at de'Arnise Keep.'

Fritha's face was set. 'Those who wish to, go with Jaheira. I am continuing on.'

Imoen glanced about her; the lines were being drawn up, Minsc and Haer'Dalis already looking like they would be joining Fritha in her obstinacy, Aerie hovering hopefully behind Jaheira.

'Please, Fritha, see reason; she might not even be there.'

This spell just standing had done nothing for Imoen, the brief respite allowing her to feel for the first time all day how exhausted she actually was. Every muscle was aching, her body soaked and cold; she did not understand the disagreement that had halted them and, in that moment, she just did not care about anything outside of the chance of somewhere warm and dry to stay the night. She edged forward, Fritha whirling back as the hand touched her arm.

'Fritha, please, just come to the keep, please.'

The girl stared back at her, face unreadable as she let her eyes flick about the rest of them. 'You do not know what you ask of me, Imoen. None of you do.'

Fritha shrugged her off, stepping from the path to set out northward through the trees.

'So be it; there is hardly enough of me left to feel the sting.'

xxx

Imoen could not see much of the castle in the twilight and the now driving rain, just an outline of high walls about the even higher keep within, the warm yellow squares of windows winking in the darkness. The drawbridge was already lowered and one of the two soldiers who were standing on guard at the gate seemed to recognise her friends, the man leaving his partner on duty as he escorted them inside.

Imoen did not realise how very cold she was until she stepped into those warm kitchens, the two cavernous fireplaces scorching the room with a sweltering heat and it was all she could do not to start divesting herself of her sodden clothes right there. The long room was all bustle, the scrubbed table in the far end surrounded by servants busy preparing vegetables or stirring large earthenware bowls, each as red-faced and flushed as she imagined she likely was, while at the stove two women, one stout and older, the other looking rather like her nicely plump daughter, were flitting between the many pans that were bubbling there, tasting the contents and adding various pinches of this and that from the bench at their side, the long seat shared by the young boy who was perched on the opposite end at the nearest fireplace, slowly turning the joint that was spitted over the glowing coals. Imoen's stomach gave a hopeful gurgle.

'Madam Elise?' prompted Jaheira politely. The older of the pair glanced up and suddenly her florid face was split with a smile, the old cook fussily wiping her hands on the stained linen apron that was wrapped about the barrel of her form and bustling over to welcome them in with barely a glance to the muddy water they were trailing through her kitchens; they were clearly held high in her regard.

'Well now, look what the winds have blown in! Welcome, welcome, I did wonder if I were to be seeing you good folk again. Darred, Enseph, take their cloaks and what-not. Charlotte, go and fetch her Ladyship.'

'The Lady Delcia is still in residence here?' asked Jaheira, surrendering her cloak and pack to the tall lad now at her side.

'Oh yes, though she is not about at the moment. She's is staying with friends in the city for the Midwinter feast and will travel back here-'

The creak of the door before them and a young woman entered in a gown of deep brown, her dark red hair twisted up and pinned neatly in place with golden pins that accentuated the arrangements of pearls and gold at her ears and throat. She had yet to notice them, half-shielded by the door as they were, the woman addressing the cook in politely authoritative tones.

'Ah, Elise, Charlotte said-' The girl stopped suddenly as her eyes fell on them, her face lighting in her elation, 'Oh my- _Fritha!_' She started forward, her step faltering in the face of Fritha's stony look, when Aerie had suddenly embraced her, the pair laughing as the druid fondly patted her back. 'Oh, Jaheira and Aerie -oh, you are all here; it has been so long! And where is Cernd?'

'Returned to his grove.'

'And with his son, no less –oh, Nalia, we've such a lot to tell you!'

Imoen glanced to Fritha, the girl hung back from the sudden press, her face unreadable, Nalia already drawn back from the two women and greeting the others.

'Anomen, I heard of your knighthood, I knew you would succeed. Minsc -oh and Boo as well, how are you both? And is that not Lord Corthala? Well met, sir.'

'Please, Valygar is fine.'

'And Haer'Dalis, I see they have yet to get rid of you.'

'How could they lose their leading man?'

Nalia laughed at his cheek, already moving toward her with a smile. 'And you must be Imoen; I've heard such a lot about you.'

Imoen did not know what to say to that considering she had no clue as to who this woman was, but she was saved any answer as the door swung open once more, a tall dark-haired man bearing a fine blue tunic and a rather strong nose entered behind her.

'Nalia dear, I heard we have had an arrival. Have Lord Cendre's retinue finally- Oh,' he stopped as he noticed then, his surprise gone as suddenly as it had surfaced as he sent them an affable smile, 'hello there.'

Nalia hastened to make the introductions. 'Ah, yes, Lundav, these are my good friends, the ones I travelled with before I joined the orphanage. This is Jaheira, Aerie, Anomen, Fritha-'

'Ah, no need for any introductions here,' he laughed amiably, 'This is the young lady who was good enough to entrust me with her delivery –I should shake your hand, my lady, bringing me to the acquaintance of my dear Nalia.'

'Delivery?' questioned Aerie. Fritha's face was blank as she answered her.

'I sent Nalia a letter. This gentleman was good enough to take it with him when he journeyed to the orphanage with the Illmaterans.' Her eyes dropped to Nalia's pale hands and the simple opal ring that so neatly encircled the fourth finger of her left hand. 'You are engaged: my sincere congratulations to you both.'

'Oh, Nalia, you're getting married?' cried Aerie, looking overjoyed at this revelation –perhaps she hoped to be bridesmaid.

'Congratulations, indeed,' agreed Jaheira, 'and when did this blessing occur?'

'About a month back –took me long enough to work up the nerve!' laughed Lundav, the man giving his fiancée's shoulders a gentle squeeze as though to prove to himself he had actually managed it.

'Now, I am sorry to interrupt you there, m'lady,' began Elise politely, 'but will you be wanting extra places set in the Great Hall?'

'You have guests?' asked Jaheira. Lundav nodded.

'Oh yes, all here for the Midwinter Feast tomorrow -though we've always room for more. When I heard of your arrival, I had thought Lord Cendre and his attendants had finally made it past the flooding –he must still be at the Golden Sheaf inn waiting for the roads to clear. I hope they can get through tomorrow.'

'We are sorry to arrive unannounced,' ventured Aerie.

'Nonsense,' dismissed Nalia, Jaheira hiding an approving smile behind her hand as the girl continued, 'You are welcome to join us, both tonight and for the feast tomorrow –though I see from your reluctance that perhaps you would rather not spend the evening in such formal surroundings.'

'I can have the table set up in the parlour if you wish, m'lady,' offered the cook promptly.

'Yes, please, Elise.'

The old cook smiled. 'So there's eight of you now, is there? And will you be joining them, my lady?'

'Oh, well,' Nalia faltered, clearly torn between her duties as hostess and her desire to see them properly. Lundav laid a hand upon her shoulder.

'Stay here with them, dearest, I can make your excuses.'

And Nalia smiled as he kissed the top of her head and cordially took his leave of them, the girl pink with a heat that likely had little to do with the kitchens as she turned back to them all.

'Well, let us see about getting you some rooms.'

Imoen was so glad to change out of her wet clothes and lie on an actual bed, she doubted she would have risen again until morning if she had not been so hungry, the maid Abbey arriving not long afterwards to inform her the others were waiting for her and escort her through the labyrinth of corridors to a small parlour, where a large table had been set and laden with a feast she had dreamt of since the Gate. No more the rations, or worse, the strange fungi and meats of the Underdark; there were dried fruits, cheeses and breads, a cold ham joint, a steaming tureen of broccoli soup, and a whole wooden tray set with preserves and pickles of every kind.

'Look, Fritha, lemon curd, your favourite.'

Fritha obliged her with a glance to the squat yellow jar, no more. Across the table, Nalia looked to be fighting against wringing her sleeves as she watched the exchange.

'Well, let us not stand on ceremony.'

Everyone took their seats, the initial expected silence as everyone served themselves and settled down to eat refusing to fade, the air over the table growing more uncomfortable by the moment.

'So,' began Nalia, taking up her duty as host to provide the opening, 'the weather is very mild this year. I recall last year the snows lasted until second tenday in Alturiak.'

Imoen sighed inwardly; were things so bad they were talking about the _weather?_ She kept her face down and focused on the far more interesting contents of the table, reaching forward to ladle some of the rich soup into her waiting bowl as Jaheira took up the small talk.

'Indeed, though this rain is just as disruptive. The main forest road is flooded.'

'Yes, we had heard that. I am very glad we funded the instillation of new irrigation ditches and dams in the lower farmsteads. I know farmland belonging to neighbouring estates have been quite badly hit.'

'You sound to have been busy,' offered Anomen, 'when did you take residence here?'

Nalia paused, counting the tenday in her head. 'About two months back. Before Isea's trial I heard he was under arrest at his house and petitioned the magistrates that I be allowed to return here as seneschal. Lord Fathington Roenall seemed happy to relinquish the post from his own man -perhaps he wished to distance the family from the place since it had been revealed how Isea was using it- and I was allowed to return, at first, by leave of the court and then once Isea was found guilty, my title and lands were restored to me by the Council.'

'And what of Isea?' asked Valygar.

'He was executed privately; with the slaving, piracy and smuggling, the Council decided an example needed to be set.'

'Good,' nodded Minsc sternly, 'Boo has noted too readily is justice lost to coin.'

Nalia dipped her head in agreement. 'Indeed. But, perhaps that is not a subject for now. What have you all been doing lately?'

Imoen snorted into her soup. 'Oh, because that's _definitely_ a subject for the dinner table.'

'Imoen,' sighed Jaheira with a frown, but Nalia was smiling.

'So, you are Imoen… I made Fritha promise to bring you when she came to visit me at the orphanage. I suppose our timings were a little hopeful.'

She glanced to the girl in question, perhaps hoping for some comment on this, but Fritha kept her head down. Imoen defused the tension with a laugh.

'I'll say. They've only just fetched me back –not that I'm not grateful,' she added quickly, 'cause I am.'

'You've only just arrived back from the asylum?' repeated Nalia, seemingly surprised. 'Where was it located then, somewhere to the east? The Windspears, or perhaps-'

'Spellhold was not to the east,' Fritha cut in quietly, the whole table seemingly frozen as she broke her silence. 'It was not even in Amn. It was situated on an island many leagues off the coast, though our route back from there was somewhat indirect.'

'I see…' said Nalia after a moment, this explanation clearly giving her no more clue than if Fritha had neglected to answer at all. Imoen sighed, feeling sorry for the girl.

'Come on, Fritha, don't leave her in the dark -we've had enough of that lately. My imprisonment at the asylum was real enough, but Irenicus was more warden than inmate by the time this lot arrived. He was waiting for Fritha there, took my soul for his sister and Fritha's for himself.'

'Your _souls?_' Nalia cried. Imoen nodded, swallowing a mouthful of bread.

'Yep, seems he needed them for a cure to something he and his sister were suffering. And then off he escapes through the Underdark, all the way to the elven city of Suldanessellar. We've followed him ever since.'

'But he took you souls? But- But how is such a thing even possible?'

Aerie shook her head gravely. 'We don't know, but he found a way.'

'And now we birds must find a way to fetch them back,' added Haer'Dalis, 'before the raven and the robin sing their last.'

Nalia was staring about the table looking aghast. 'Well, where are the mage and his sister now? Are they in they city? Are they fleeing you?' she questioned earnestly, as though she would pack them off on their pursuit there and then -and likely join them in it.

'Do not fret, Nalia,' calmed Jaheira firmly, 'Bodhi is most likely within her stronghold in Athkatla –we will deal with her soon enough.'

'And Irenicus?'

Only Anomen had the heart to say it.

'He has sealed the elven city; only his sister holds the key. We left him in Suldanessellar.'

Silence followed his words, the discordant chime and scrape of cutlery echoing out to fill the space their talk had left.

'So, when is your wedding planned for?' asked Aerie abruptly, 'Soon?'

Nalia shook her head. 'Oh, not until the spring, and it will likely come all too soon even then, for there is so much to be done. Lundav does not live here -he is just visiting for Midwinter with the other nobles, and much of the rooms must be changed about and prepared before he takes residence here after the wedding. I will have to move into my father's old room, for a start.'

Nalia sighed, looking, for a moment, sad as she confessed, 'Truth be told, I would rather stay in my old room, but there are expectations of my position and being lady of one's lands is as much about appearances as it is title.' Nalia shook her head again, brightening somewhat as her eyes fell hopefully upon the girl opposite. 'You know, I was clearing out my old clothes hampers just the other day and I thought of you, Fritha. I noticed you had taken my old green gown as I had hoped you would –tell me, did you ever find an occasion to wear it?'

The whole room seemed to wait for her answer. Fritha drew a sip of tea and nodded once.

'Yes, to Althan Deril's St Adulphi's Day celebrations.'

'How nice!' Nalia cried, seemingly glad to have something more light-hearted to seize upon, 'You enjoyed the evening?'

'Yes. We threatened to expose his practise of necromancy and blackmailed him into handing over his adoptive son.'

'_Sorry?_'

'Ah, the tale is a little more complicated than that,' interjected Jaheira quickly. Fritha sighed and pushed her dish away.

'Aren't they always? But I fear my talent for stories has since departed me -if I may be excused.'

And no one made to halt her as Fritha rose and left.

Nalia stayed where she was, although seemingly just for decorum's sake, the girl picking her way through the rest of the meal and some of the others would have likely joined her, if but for the fact that after a few days of dried rations eaten in the rain and cold, even this simple meal was like a banquet. Nalia made much more effort with the conversation though, a gentle murmur of pleasantries ensuring the rest of the meal was not borne in same discomfort in which it had begun. Perhaps it had been for the best that Fritha had left.

Charlotte and Abbey had just cleared away the last of the dishes, Jaheira and Minsc excusing themselves to return to their rooms, and it was only then Nalia politely rose herself, Anomen standing, too, to catch her at the door. Imoen pushed her chair back with a heavy sigh that was half-unease and half-full stomach, her eyes fixed on the pair even as she muttered to the man next to her.

'Gods, can't we even have a _meal_ without some drama. All through dinner she was stealing glances at Fritha, and then _she _goes and takes her off after barely a mouthful.'

Valygar raised a wry eyebrow. 'Yes, I noticed how distraught you were when you were forced to eat Fritha's share of dessert in her place. As for the reasons, I could not say; Nalia was before my time.'

At the door, Anomen looked grave, the man lowering his head seemingly composing himself to continue as Nalia gently patted his arm looking almost as distressed as he, their audience swelling to include Haer'Dalis as Aerie left the table, as well. Imoen feigned a sneeze to catch his eye and earnestly beckon the tiefling to the empty chair at her side.

'So, what's going on then? Why'd Fritha leave dinner? What are those two whispering about? Fritha said she didn't want to come here in the first place –was it something to do with them? Oh! Did Anomen cheat on Fritha with-'

'Calm yourself, my robin,' Haer'Dalis forestalled, 'you are too happy jumping to conclusions and they are the wrong ones. For all his faults, Anomen could no more play a lady false than he could eat his own considerably deflated head.'

Imoen snorted. 'Yeah, well, I'd say it's enough of a miracle he'd got one girl to put up with him, but stranger things have happened.'

Valygar was frowning. 'Do you not think you should let go of this bitterness? What wrong has the knight ever done you?'

'He hurt Fritha,' Imoen retorted, knowing the excuse was growing thinner every time she snapped it. Valygar looked predictably unimpressed.

'Juvenile as this sounds, she has more than got her own back since.'

'Yeah, and I'll forgive him when she does.'

'And what happened to you becoming a better person?'

Imoen mouthed a moment, such a blow _well_ below the belt in her opinion and all the more for the fact he had a point.

'Fine,' she sighed eventually and with more than a little sulkiness, 'I'll _try_. Anyway,' she continued, quickly turning back to Haer'Dalis, 'we aren't here to talk about him; what's got Fritha all sullen?'

'Well, I imagine coming here was hard for her,' he offered after a pause, 'Nalia travelled with us for a time and, well, they grew close.'

'So they were friends, then?' confirmed Imoen with a frown. 'You'd think they'd be a bit happier to see each other.'

Haer'Dalis shrugged, looking as though he was not sure how to elaborate. 'Yes, well, as I said, they were very close; if ever there were two birds more suited, I ne'er saw them. Always would they be at each other's arm, in laughter and sorrow. But it was not to last; Nalia decided her lands needed her more than our sorry flock and off she flew.'

'They parted badly?' asked Valygar, seemingly curious in spite of himself. Haer'Dalis shook his head.

'No, but the decision was sudden and I believe the raven took it hard. Perhaps she is finding this re-acquaintance a little too laden with memories.'

Imoen glanced back to the door, no sign of either Nalia or the knight, and she settled back in her seat. The parlour was warm and Imoen doubted very much Fritha was to be alone much longer, whether she wanted the company or not.

xxx

Nalia set her forearm to the heavy wood and pushed up, the hatch resisting a moment before the seal gave way and she heaved it back to move up the last few steps and emerge on the rain-beaten tower, her goal sat upon the notched ramparts but a few paces opposite.

Fritha did not turn back at the creak of the trapdoor, her eyes seemingly fixed on something to the distant west and Nalia realised as she climbed the steps that she was staring at Athkatla, the city a cluster of lights that glittered through the rain.

Nalia pulled up the hood of her cloak and, with little else to do, sank to perch on the topmost step, where the open hatch door could still afford her some shelter. Fritha had no such concern, the girl sat without her cloak and drenched through, long hair plastered about her body like a coat, rivulets of water running down her face like tears, though she did not look miserable for it, her expression as hard and cold as the stone about her.

There had been such a rush of emotions when Nalia had first seen her, just standing there in the kitchens, a pale ghost of the girl who had haunted her dreams since they parted. And, for an instant, everything, all that had happened in those last few months had fallen away and they could have been back in Trademeet, Nalia turned away from Sophia and the others from the orphanage -if she had changed her mind.

But she had not. This was the life they both had now, and in spite of everything, Nalia could not regret her decision.

The girl before her drew a deep breath, eyes still focused upon the distant lights as she spoke.

'Thank you for the money for the theatre.'

Nalia smiled. 'I had an inkling for what they might have been collecting –so you found your friend.'

'Yes.'

'And lost all the more in the rescue.'

Nalia could hear the wry smile.

'Oh, yes… I did not want to come here. I avoided you in the city, too… It is that same feeling I get when I think of Candlekeep -to return only to realise I can but visit the joy of that place, those people, and I would rather not be reminded of such happiness when, in the same instant, I must be reminded that it is no longer mine.' She snorted tiredly, 'The others do not understand though; to them it is just Fritha being stubborn…'

Nalia frowned. 'I'm sure they don't think that.'

Another tired snort. 'Still always willing to see the best in people… It was a trait we used to share.'

Nalia smiled faintly to herself. 'And I believe you have been teaching it to others in my absence… Anomen for one.'

Fritha clearly heard her intimation, turning to face her for the first time as she asked, 'The others told you?'

'No, but I can tell –he looks at you, well,' Nalia had been about to make some comparison to the way she would sometimes catch Lundav looking at her, but it stuck in her throat… 'He- he looks at you often, and he drew me aside earlier. He seems to feel that you may not be in any state, or perhaps even desire, to continue on once you have ensured Imoen's soul is returned to her… He asked that I give you a place here, while the rest of them return to kill Irenicus.'

Fritha stared down at her, Nalia's words stirring something deep inside, her senses so numb she could barely tell what, though it unsettled her all the same, the girl still trying to summon the familiar contempt as she turned back to the city.

'Fool; I told him it would all end in tears.'

Nalia remained silent, perhaps she did not feel it was her place to comment, Fritha staring out across the darkness, the feeling gnawing at her innards like a hunger, and she knew that such was not for her; for all the hatred and indifference, she could not let the others go alone to their deaths. She would go with them, gods curse her, she would fight right up until that very last moment.

The despair she assumed long left behind suddenly caught up with her at the thought and, in that moment, she wished Nalia would go and leave her to howl her misery at the sky. Oh, why? Why had it had to be like this?

'Fritha?'

She glanced back to find Nalia watching her, pale face marred with a concerned frown and Fritha stared back at her, the anger and fear, hate and misery, and the utter empty loneliness all shuddering inside her.

This was how it was to be now, wasn't it?

This continual ache of the seconds…Was it even anything to do with her soul and the essence anymore? What if this was just life?

But it had not always been like this. She had been happy once, at peace. Would just sit for hours watching the world about her and enjoying existence, long before all this death and love and hate and, and- _life_, got in the way.

Nalia was still watching her, expecting an answer and in that moment, it was suddenly all so simple.

Fritha drew a deep breath and slowly let it go.

'So, you are engaged,' Fritha continued quietly, 'He seems a good man.'

'He is. He was the one who delivered your first letter to me.' Nalia laughed sheepishly, still embarrassed to recall it as she confessed, 'I'm afraid I was in a bit of a state when I discovered it was from you; he was very kind. Some of the paladins were to be stationed at the orphanage over the winter. He asked to be included among their number… we grew quite close.'

Fritha's face remained impassive. 'Do you love him?'

'Yes…' Nalia answered slowly, her next words all in a rush as her passions rose. 'Fritha, at the orphanage and afterwards, before the trial, when Isea was confined and I was allowed to stay here as seneschal, I waited. For you to come, or a letter, for any sign… but there was nothing… nothing came…'

'You have heard since about what I am?'

Nalia nodded mutely.

'Then you know why I did not come.' Fritha sighed, returning her gaze westward once more. 'Athkatla. There were times that I would have liked no less than to see that city burn… But not now. I will save it and I will save Suldanessellar and perhaps, if there's time, I can still save myself as well.'

Fritha turned back to her and tried a smile. 'I am glad you have found some happiness, dearest… it suits you.'


	94. Sisters

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Baldur's Gate', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Sisters**

They left de'Arnise Keep the next morning in pretty much the same weather in which they had arrived, the rain clearing for a few hours over noon, only to start again as the sun began its descent before them, and they arrived in Athkatla on the evening soaked through, tired and low of spirits.

Most of the city was quiet. Midwinter festivities were more subdued among the common folk, where Deadwinter Day was merely a sign of the hard times still to come, and most people kept to their homes and families. But when life was hard all year round, the people needed little excuse to find joy where they could, and the taverns of the slums were alive with light and noise, their first stop at the Coronet yielding the predicted results as a mortified Hendak informed them the inn was full. He had immediately offered them use of his own room next to the kitchens, but no one had wanted to turn him from his bed. Besides, a matter of a place to stay the night was not so much a problem for a group that counted two nobles of the city among its members.

Valygar did not want to descend upon his own house. His servants would be celebrating and he did not want to ruin his young housekeeper's evening, Mab sure to fuss about not having prepared enough food or turned the beds. And so there had really been only one place left…

The Delryn estate was just as she had left it: an empty, decaying building, haunted by the ghostly outlines of sheet-draped furniture.

Fritha stood listening to the rain drum on the tiles just above her, the droplets falling in a fine curtain across the overgrown garden to make the leaves sway, Fritha watching them dance from under the covered walkway that ran the length of small garth. The others were in the kitchen, the window on the western wall giving a glimpse into the warm yellow room where their shadows moved before the light of the newly lit fire, preparing where they would sleep the night. It would have been too much bother to arrange a room for each of them, the house all shut up as it had been, and with their bedding cleaned and dry from their stay at the keep, the kitchen would serve them well enough.

Fritha let her eyes drift over the twilit garden, lush with grass that would have likely reached her knees, the dominant source of green beneath the flowerless bushes and leafless tree. Had it really been a month ago she had sat on that wall opposite and laughed with Anomen, brim full of an affection so long in the denying? She could barely recall the moment now, let alone the feeling.

At least one of their company was enjoying the jungle, Boo scurrying through the long grass that bowed through the railings about her feet, Minsc assured enough by her presence and the closed nature of the garden to leave him to his own devices, the ranger in the kitchens with the others as they made their plans.

Footsteps in the room behind her, Anomen appearing at the mouth of the deserted dining room wearing the same sombre expression he had borne for days now, as though he was in a perpetual state of mourning.

'Jaheira and Aerie are heading out to get something for dinner; is there anything in particular you'd like?'

'No, thank you.'

He seemed to hesitate a moment, struggling with himself before he nodded once.

'As you will it.'

And he was gone. Fritha listened to the beat of his retreating footsteps until they were silenced by the slam of a distant door, and she was alone again with the pattering rain –well, almost. She glanced down as the tickle of whiskers brushed her wrist. Boo had climbed up to sit upon the railing, his once velvety fur spiked with rainwater, the ever-trembling nose twitching as he investigated her pale fingers.

'Hello, Boo, how are things?'

_Why are you speaking to that _rodent?

Fritha shrugged. 'Because.'

_Because you don't want to speak to _me_._

'I didn't say that,' she sighed, adding after a tired pause, 'What do you want from me?'

'Well, nothing really,' came a small voice, Fritha turned back to see Imoen stood before the dining room looking injured, 'I can go if you want.'

'No, I was-'

_Just ignoring me! _

'I'm not ignoring you!'

'Yeah, all right,' snapped Imoen, 'I never said you were!'

'No, Imoen, I did not-'

_Suddenly, _I'm_ not good enough company anymore; I've been replaced by rodents and friends who are too concerned with their own-_

Fritha drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to force the voice back as it ranted behind her eyes.

'What is it, Imoen?'

Imoen sighed, a hand absently rubbing the opposite forearm and looking uncharacteristically pensive as she offered, 'I just wanted to talk to you. I know it was hard for you to be at Nalia's place and-'

_Yes, to which you lot made her go! I still cannot _believe_ you gave in to them! _

'And I thought maybe…' Imoen glanced about her pointedly and Fritha understood, the girl worried she would find the memories of Anomen's house similarly distressing.

_Like you'd care! They're all out for themselves. Even Nalia deserted you in the end._

'That does not hurt anymore…'

Imoen was frowning. 'Well, that's something, I suppose -though I'm not sure if it's a good thing.' The girl took a step closer, leaning back against the railings next to her and letting Boo sniff at her fingers. 'We'll be facing Bodhi soon, won't we?' She laughed uneasily. 'I'm a bit nervous, to tell the truth, but excited too, you know? Because soon it will be back, and all the nightmares and the anger and this damn tiredness will go away and I'll be me again.'

_Oh good! There's something to look forward to._

'Something to which we can look forward,' Fritha corrected with a sigh. Imoen gave another uneasy giggle.

'Yeah, I'll drive them all mad, won't I? But for all that, I _wish_ it was Irenicus we were facing, Fritha, I really do.'

_But not enough to let you stay in Suldanessellar and fetch him! _

'We will reach him soon enough.'

Imoen was frowning again. 'But will it be, Fritha? I'm worried. You said before that you weren't sure if you'd be able to fight with us after this.'

_Oh, you'll fight, if I have to harangue you every damned step back to that city!_

'There is no need. I will fight.'

Imoen smiled and nodded once. 'Good, and I'll be there with you.'

_Words! That's all they ever give you! Just words!_

'And you give me something more, do you?'

'Fritha?' Imoen reproached in injured tones, 'I'll help! I'll fight with you! I'd have done it sooner if you hadn't been too caught up trying to face everything alone!'

'No, I-'

_Listen to her! So ready to throw it all back in your face! Everything you sacrificed for them and it's still you playing the martyr._

'And are you any better? You lie, you twist; I never should have listened to you!'

_I do what I do for us to survive! They don't care, they never did! _

'Just leave me _ALONE!' _

A stifled sob next to her- Imoen looked like she was about to burst into tears. 'You think it's all about you, don't you? Well, you aren't the only one this affected! You aren't the only one in pain or-or frightened! But fine, if you want to be alone, then go! Go be alone!'

And the girl was gone, fled back into the house, her noisy sobbing silenced by the slam of a door.

'Imoen…'

_I told y-_

'Don't even say it.'

Fritha turned back to the garden. Boo had gone, startled by her scream. She could see the creature scuttling about the roots of the lemon tree. She lifted a hand from the railing, holding it out from under the eaves, the rain cool and pleasant as she caught it in her palm. It was time to get out of there.

xxx

The rain hung in sheets across the docks, a constantly changing veil before her eyes, sometimes as fine as mist, other times driving into the worn cobbles to join the rivers already flowing there from the streets above. The docked ships and taverns both were all battened down and sealed against it, the harbour water seething as the droplets battered into the slow-moving swell. The place was dead, not a soul about –not even hers.

Fritha had been drenched within moments of leaving the garden, not at a run as Imoen had, but a steady pace that had carried her ever since. She was so wet and numb now she hardly even noticed it anymore, her feet carrying her onward, unwavering in their path, and further down the street she could see the warm sandstone building, the golden brick all the richer for its varnish of water: the shrine to Oghma.

It was closed, of course; the hour would have guaranteed such, even if the day had not. Fritha moved up the steps to stand under the cover of the narrow porch and stare blankly at the solid wooden door, imagining the quiet rows of books within, a fortress of solitude to replace the keep she long ago lost. She closed to it, laying her face against the rough, dry wood, a sudden desperate laughter bubbling up inside her as she began to pound upon the surface.

'Sanctuary! _Sanctuary!_'

No one came; there was no one to come, all the librarians and priests safe in their homes with their families and friends, celebrating the turning point of the winter. And Fritha was still laughing to herself as she turned to lean back against the unyielding wood, letting her knees buckle and her own weight pull her gently to the dusty tiles.

Footsteps in the darkness, a shape emerging from the rain to shout up to her from the bottom of the steps.

'By Mask, are you all right, miss? You'll wake the dead with that racket!'

'Would that I bloody could!' Fritha laughed bitterly, shifting to drop her head heavily in to her hands. The figure approached, pulling back his hood once he was under the porch to reveal a worn, kind face topped with hair that was more grey than black, his blue eyes raking over her worriedly.

'Here, Fritha, isn't it? Aye, I can recognise that hair even in this light.'

Fritha snorted. 'That hair, this hair! Bloody stuff's seen many a bounty hunter's mother weeping.'

'Well, I wouldn't know about that,' he conceded warily, 'It's Jacob, miss; do you recall me? We met, oh, months past now, in the shrine to our Lord of Shadows.'

And suddenly the image sparked behind her eyes: her smiling and embarrassed as she'd been caught trying to wipe her nose on her sleeve after a good session spent knelt and howling before Mask's shrine in a vain hope the god would somehow protect her more-faithful friend. Had it made a difference? She was not sure.

'I remember, Jacob.'

'Well, that's something, at least,' the man sighed, seemingly relieved, 'though I fear this shrine is a little more fussy about the hours they keep. Will you come with me back to the guild, miss? I've to make my prayers yet this eve, and don't like to leave you like this.'

Fritha shrugged; he could have asked to lead her into the Abyss and she doubted she would have protested.

'I will come,' she sighed, heaving her self up to take the arm he proffered, 'only let our pace be slow; I have not been myself of late.'

Jacob left her in the entrance hall, the man having a brief word with Myrtle before disappearing into the shrine, the merry blond running a nervous eye over her bedraggled appearance and, but a moment later, she was leading her up the familiar creaking staircase to Renal's office.

The old thief had clearly been expecting her, but even then his welcome was unusually anxious, the man on his feet and ushering her into the room, fussing about her in a way that reminded her strangely enough of dear old Beth.

'Fritha, by Mask, it is you! I scarce believed it even when- Myrtle, bring some tea -and perhaps a towel, as well,' he ordered briskly, taking Fritha's sodden cloak from her shoulders to hang it steaming over the fireplace and gesturing to the cushions before his low desk. 'Now, Fritha, what has happened? Jacob said he found you outside the shrine to Oghma like this.'

'I just felt like a walk… You seem ill at ease, Renal. Surely, I have arrived here unannounced enough times before now.'

The man attempted a weak laugh. 'Yes, indeed, but _never_ has it been more welcome. We had news your ship was scuttled by sahuagin a day out of Brynnlaw. Havarian said you and much of the crew were drowned despite his best efforts.'

Fritha snorted darkly. 'Yes, or perhaps that should be we _survived_ despite Havarian's best efforts. He was in Irenicus's pay all along. Considering the sum _I_ paid for my transport, I would have hoped you could have found someone who at least wasn't in the service of my enemy.'

'In his service,' repeated Renal, weathered brow furrowed, 'but how is that possible? Irenicus-'

'Had a sister in this city who was making sure everything was running smoothly while he bided his time in _imprisonment_. You know her, Renal; would you like to make a guess?'

The thief master looked grim. 'Bodhi.'

A silence descended as a light knock rattled the door, Myrtle entering with a smile and a tray of tea, a neat towel hung over one arm, the girl lingering to pour the cups and present the cloth to Fritha, before disappearing once more.

Fritha rubbed the towel half-heartedly up over her wet hair to let it drape over her damp shoulders where her tunic and undershirt were both soaked through by now, despite her cloak. She hardly cared, the girl reaching for the cup before her, the tea hot enough that she could not taste that first sip, though she felt it warm all the way to her stomach like a liqueur as she swallowed to continue her tale.

'So… we arrive at Brynnlaw and find all the Cowled Wizards dead or mad, and the asylum being run by none other than Irenicus and his blood-sucking sister. Imoen was but a part of their plans -apparently they had been awaiting my arrival for some time.'

Renal's face was a picture of sober expectation. 'What did they do to you?'

Fritha drew another sip of tea and shook her head.

'It does not matter, merely that when they were done, they skipped off leaving us for dead. That was their only mistake in an otherwise perfect plan –but I intend for them to regret it. I have pursued Bodhi back here with that very purpose.'

After an evening of such shocks, Renal did not bother to hide his surprise.

'Bodhi is within the city _now?_'

'We believe so, and Imoen confirms it –she has a sense for the woman now. I assume the vampire has yet to make herself known?'

Renal nodded. 'That is so. She must be keeping her activities here low-key in order to avoid drawing any unwelcome attention. I must inform Aran of this –he will no doubt wish to aid you in your hunt. But what of you, Fritha?' Renal pressed, as though the vampire's reappearance was mere inconvenience, 'You look thin and… You are unhappy,' he concluded with a troubled sigh. 'I could tell in our final meeting before you left on the ship; very different from the young lady who would come and take tea with me every time she had some question about this foreign city in which she had found herself. These months have weighed heavily upon you.'

Fritha shrugged, not entirely sure why he would care either way.

'Yes, they have, but it will soon be over, one way or another. Isn't life funny?' she sighed, drawing another sip of tea, the woody flavour filling her mouth, 'When I was in Baldur's Gate, everyone believed I was working for the Shadow Thieves; I was even due to be hanged for it. And now here I am taking tea with you…'

Renal was shaking his head, lined face etched with an emotion she could not quite place.

'Oh, Fritha, what are we going to do with you?'

She snorted, a weak smile tugging at her lips. 'A few days ago I would have said some strong poison would have been the most merciful option. But not now. I have so little left to lose and now it is _their_ plans that are almost at a close… Our roles are reversed and Iwill take some small satisfaction in being the one to ruin what has been so hard strived for.' She glanced up to find Renal watching her with the same unreadable look. 'Am I so very different from the girl I was before?'

He dipped his head for a sip of tea. 'Yes and no.'

'You lie well, Renal, and pleasantly too. That is twice now you have used the skill to aid me, though I do wonder why.'

'You speak of my lie to the Shadowmaster,' he confirmed, lowering his cup to face her once more, 'regarding the coin to be raised and your "threats" to ally with the vampires. You likely see the risk to me as greater than it actually was; I have been long enough in Aran's service now, that he would know any falsehood would not have been told lightly. But yes, I did lie… Due, in part, to the Shadow Thieves' deception, you were made an offer by the vampires that you were forced to refuse. I told you once before your morals would make a fool of you, Fritha –I decided it would not be the case then either.'

Fritha watched him watch her. Her morals were certainly not something she had been given the luxury of worrying about for a while now, and she had a feeling he knew that, too.

'You spared me little in the end, Renal, but I thank you for it all the same.'

He nodded once, eyes still fixed upon her and holding an almost absent quality as he continued.

'You know, Fritha, I never had a child of my own. I have always been too interested in my career and it seems a little late to begin now. But from the very moment I met you, I considered that if I had ever had a daughter, I would have liked very much for her to have turned out like you. I understand why you may think it, but I was not lying before. You are changed, yes, but I can see her in you still –the young lady who once so charmed me with her guileless determination. And if, at the end of this, you feel _you_ have forgotten her, then come back here. We can take tea and talk, and I will endeavour to remind you.'

Fritha dipped her face; she could not cry, but she felt embarrassed by the scant feelings he had stirred all the same.

'Thank you, Renal. I should get back to the others; they will be worrying.'

'As you say then,' he agreed, making to rise as she did and moving to fetch her cloak. 'I will speak to Aran and have a message sent over to- at which inn are you staying?'

'No inn. We are at the Delryn Estate.'

'Very good. Until the morrow then.'

Fritha nodded, taking the cloak and turning to proffer the man a cheek to kiss in the traditional sign of respect between child and elder, the old man looking rather touched as he obliged her.

'Be well, Fritha.'

'Goodnight, Renal.'

And she swung her cloak about her, and turned to head back out into the rain.

xxx

Valygar hung back, trying to find a comfortable nook in which to stand, far back and out of the way from the press about the table, the warm kitchen close and stifling with them all crowded within. He had never been in a group of such _drama_ before now, his old company comprised of strong, hard-willed people who would have likely preferred to explode in magefire than burst into tears - still he had never been in a group where a quarter of the members were soulless god-children.

He could understand it though –not that he was in any danger of joining Imoen, but their situation was stressful and that sort of life was disheartening. The constant fighting, not for any gain, but merely to prevent further loss. The knowledge that however hard they fought and well they succeeded, the best outcome they could hope for was one where things were merely returned to their broken beginnings.

The flickering light of the lamps and hearth were bathing the room in a too yellow glow, giving the scene before him an artificial quality, as though he was watching a play. The far end of the table was piled with the rations Aerie and Jaheira had brought back, while Imoen was hunched over the other end, the good inch or so of mousey roots that lined her parting even more noticeable in the lamplight, the girl's speech stilled with tears as the others made to comfort her.

'Come now, young Imoen, do not cry.'

'Really, Imoen, I'm sure there is nothing to worry about.'

'But she's been gone for _hours!_'

Jaheira was shaking her head. 'There are many places in the city that could entertain her for this long. She's likely over at the theatre.'

But Imoen would not be comforted.

'But why did I say that? I told her to go away!'

'You were angry –Fritha will have understood.'

'I was supposed to becoming a better person!'

'And you are,' came a firm voice, Valygar more surprised than any of them to find it had been his. 'Becoming such is not about never making mistakes; it is about recognising when you have and vowing to do better.'

Everyone was staring at him, even Imoen's tears halted as she goggled at this unprecedented show of concern. Valygar frowned and went back to his brooding. Imoen went back to her crying.

'But what if it's too late now? What if she's done something stupid -what if she's-'

'Do not say it,' Anomen cut in sharply, 'She would not do that.'

'How do you-?'

'Because if I thought there was any possibility I would be manacled to her wrist!'

Imoen snorted wetly, laughing in spite of herself, her voice small as she offered, 'I don't think she'd like that.'

Anomen managed a weak smile. 'No, I imagine she would not.'

A silence descended over them, the stillness broken by the crackle of damp wood in the hearth and the scattered drum roll of rain on the small window. Aerie glanced to Haer'Dalis and drew a deep breath.

'Well, I'm going to put some tea-'

The shrill groan of the gate cut her off. Imoen's head whipped up.

'Fritha?'

A shrill chorus of shrieks as a half-dozen chairs scraped back, Imoen in the lead as she dashed from the room, Jaheira and Anomen following quickly behind, and they came to the atrium to find the door already thrown wide on the rain-pelted courtyard, a small figure approaching through the darkness. 'Fritha!' cried Imoen, launching herself at the girl, any reply she could have made lost as Imoen engulfed her in an embrace before she had even reached the porch, Jaheira fussing over them as she tried to get the pair back in the house.

'By Silvanus, come inside, both of you.'

Imoen was still clinging to her friend, Fritha bearing the contact with the air of a very patient, though thoroughly displeased, cat, Jaheira ushering them both through the doorway as Imoen chattered earnestly.

'Oh, Fritha, I'm sorry. Those things I said-'

'It is all right,' the girl forestalled quietly, 'I should not have shouted, I… my mind was giving me no peace –my anger was at it, not you. You did nothing wrong.'

Imoen looked like she was about to burst in to tears all over again. Minsc shook his head giving both girls a fond, if concerned, pat upon the shoulder.

'There, little Imoen, Boo said not to worry. And young Fritha, I do not think you should be listening to that voice of yours.'

An irony that was perhaps lost to the ranger, though Imoen snorted through her tears, Jaheira gently easing her into the care of the ever-sympathetic Aerie as they all made their way back into the kitchens, the druid scolding her errant charge as they went.

'Look at you, Fritha, you're soaked through -where have you been?'

'I went to speak to Renal of Bodhi. He has noticed no new activities since her return, so she must be lying low.'

'Perhaps she is not here at all,' offered Valygar grimly. Imoen shook her head, still sniffing heartily as she confirmed, 'No, she is here… I can feel it.'

'Renal said he must speak to Aran first, but he believes he can promise us allies in the coming confrontation. Oh,' Fritha continued, her voice bearing no inflection for this afterthought, 'and Havarian told them we are all dead, so you may wish to inform those of the city who would care.'

Valygar blinked, for a moment wondering if his servants _would_ be celebrating the evening, or would he have visited there to reveal a scene of mourning, his house slowly being closed up as they searched for some far-removed relative to inherited the estate- the final end of the Corthala line. At the table, Aerie looked similarly disturbed.

'Oh, poor Uncle Quayle, I hope he has not heard that.'

'Do you wish to go now?' asked Haer'Dalis. The elf sighed and tiredly shook her head.

'No, no; another night will make little difference after so long. Beside, Hendak had not heard anything –it is likely not common knowledge.'

Jaheira nodded, letting shrewd eyes flick between he and Anomen. Valygar shrugged.

'It is as Aerie says.'

The knight before him sighed heavily. 'I will see them soon enough.'

'Well, that is good,' said Jaheira firmly as she turned her attention back to Fritha, 'And allies now though we have, they will be of little use to us if you have to enter battle in an advanced state of pneumonia. Now, where did you leave your bag? You need to change out of those wet things.'

Fritha turned from her, leaving the woman to her fussing, Anomen closing to her side as her eyes drifted over the table.

'Now, you are returned we can take supper –are you hungry?'

'Hmm, I suppose… Is that lemon curd?'

xxx

Anomen awoke with the dawn to find the rain had, at last, stopped, the small courtyard garden wet and lush under a wan blue canopy. There was little to be done while the others were still sleeping in the kitchens, the man moving upstairs to the washroom to quickly dress and the day soon found him back out in the garden, his trousers soaked to the knees by the long grass as he dug about the raised beds, weeding for want of anything else to do, the air biting and fresh in his lungs.

It felt pleasant to be doing something familial after so long spent fighting. The first of Alturiak; the tulips would be coming up soon, so long as he managed to clear some room for them. His mother's love of gardening had given him enough knowledge of the subject to be able to ensure he was not tearing out any of her prized blooms, and there was quite a sizable pile of weeds growing on the wall next to him when the first of the others rose. And one by one they passed him on their way to the washroom, some, such as the tiefling clearly amused, while Jaheira mumbled something about the difference between weeds and flowers being 'wholly subjective' before tramping after the giggling Aerie.

Anomen leaned back, shielding his eyes from the bright sky as he tried to stretch the kinks from his back, so long hunched leaving it stiff.

'Exhausted already, priest?'

And Anomen turned to find Valygar, his bow in hand, a slight smile softening the gruff words. Anomen just shrugged, sitting down on the low wall to watch the man string his bow and perform the stretches with which he seemed to greet each day.

'Did I hear the door before?'

Valygar rolled his shoulders and nodded, pulling his thick arms across his chest in an effort to waken the muscles. 'That you did. A messenger arrived from the thieves. Aran promises his aid and wishes to hold a meeting today.'

'And what answer did Fritha give?'

The ranger smiled. 'None. Fritha is upstairs washing with Imoen. Jaheira told the lad we would discuss matters and send arrangements for a meeting later; she knows we must approach your Order before anything can be decided.'

'And the Cowled Wizards,' Anomen reminded gravely. Valygar noted the intimation.

'Yes… I cannot say such an association would please me, but too much is at stake now, and allies are allies.' The ranger planted his feet firmly and raised the bow, fingers hooked about the string as he drew it back, frowning slightly as he tested the tension and slowly released it once more. 'It is no good; this bow string has not been right since we were shipwrecked. I will have to go over to my estate and get another –_and_ inform them I am not dead.'

Anomen snorted humourlessly, Valygar raising the bow once more and whipping around as a shrill whistle of approval split the air, Imoen at the open window above them laughing wildly while Fritha stood at her side, pale and gaunt as a shade, even the copper of her hair seeming faded as she watched them with those near-black eyes. Anomen sent her a smile. One step and she had moved back from the window and disappeared from view.

With everyone finally risen and the bedding cleared away, the kitchens were serviceable again and all settled about the table to share the leftover food and make their plans. Fritha had already indicated she wished for as many allies as could be found for the coming battle, though for some, such a task was easier than others.

'Well, there is no one in the city I can ask,' confessed Valygar. 'If I had had more notice, I could have perhaps got a message to Sangeeta and the others left of my old company, though I would have been reluctant to involve them –they were skilled, but not for this kind of fight.'

'It it fine, Valygar,' Jaheira assured him, 'As for myself, I will try to make contact with the few Harpers who no doubt remain in the city. This matter affects more than just the balance here and should be their concern.'

'Your brothers may not be pleased at your return, good Jaheira. Boo says I should accompany you.'

'As you will it, Minsc. Anomen, I assume you will be returning to the Order.'

Anomen nodded. 'Yes, I am sure the Prelate will wish to aid us against such an evil.'

'Good, and, Fritha-'

'I will be going to the Council Buildings to speak to the Cowled Wizards,' she answered before the question could be posed, Imoen hurriedly finishing a mouth of jammy bread to volunteer, 'Me and Aerie'll come with you –make sure they're feeling _helpful_.'

Valygar was already frowning. 'I do not think one of your… _talents_ should be approaching the Cowled ones with any antagonism.'

Imoen snorted and took another bite of bread. 'And what they going to do? Send me to Spellhold?'

And so they disbanded. Fritha was the first to leave, Imoen, Aerie and the tiefling with her, and Anomen left for the Order soon afterwards. The hour was still early and the compound was deserted as he crossed the silent courtyard, many of the squires and knights who had not returned home for the Midwinter Feast all still abed, and he wondered if Sir Harn had arranged a celebration for them the evening before. Anomen stopped, memories of the previous gathering and how happy he had been making the hollow ache that now rested in his heart all the more noticeable.

Prelate Wessalen was in his office though, the man greeting him with a gravity which suggested he knew the reason for his arrival, though Anomen was mistaken –perhaps the older man merely read it on his face. The Order had apparently been informed by High Watcher Oisig that he was still among the living, the priest petitioning Helm for the insight at their request, though the resurgence of vampires in the city were seemingly still a revelation for the Prelate.

'Well,' Wesslaen sighed, thick grey brows through low, 'I will inform Sir Ryan and have a company of men assembled this morning; a grave evil such as this must be eliminated and soon. I assume you already have some plans to those ends?'

'Fritha is arranging matters with the Cowled Wizards now; we will send news of a meeting place as soon as it has been decided, sir.'

Wessalen nodded gravely. 'We will attend. Ah, and there is the first bell.' He sent Anomen a fatherly smile. 'They will be serving breakfast in the refectory soon; I am sure there are many there who would be glad to see you returned.'

'My lord.'

Anomen took his leave, but it was not to the refectory he headed, the idea of that room with its noise and questions too much to face just yet, and he left the Order's compound for sustenance of another sort.

Father Oisig did not ask him where he had been, merely expressed a gladness to have him returned before going back to his duties, the man subtly ushering some of the more curious acolytes before him and Anomen spent the rest of the morning in the chapel, sometimes giving worship, other times just sitting enjoying the silence. He had been unable to pray in the Underdark, and even once they had left, he had struggled to find the words from the emptiness within. But there, in the house of his god, it finally returned to him: the peace, the divine love for one whose very being steered the course of his life.

His eyes were drawn unwillingly to his left and the alcoves that lined the sides of the chapel, where many treasures were displayed for the satisfaction of Helm and faithful alike, the marble woman stood there, a pale hand outstretched. Her face was unfocused at this angle and could have almost been beckoning to him…

Anomen returned his attention forcibly to the altar and his worship, unwilling to let such memories cloud his heart and put a barrier again between himself and his faith, because much of the time it felt like it was all he had left.

**…**

The bells of high sun were striking as he opened the door, Anomen closing it on the cheerful peals that rang over the city. The house was silent; he was likely the first to return, the man walking through into the kitchen, his shoulder sagging as he drew off his bag and dropped it heavily on the table, a bang from beneath and a loud curse making him start.

'Fritha?' he exclaimed, as the girl emerged from the other side of the table, rubbing her head with a frown, and he closed to find her slowly sitting up from where she had been lain upon the long wooden bench. 'What were you doing?'

'Sleeping. I was sat here and I was tired, so I lay down. How was the Order?'

Anomen sighed, sinking into the nearest chair. 'The meeting went well; the Prelate will send a company of knights to face this evil with us. You are here alone?'

Fritha gave an indifferent nod. 'The others went to the circus after our meeting, so I came back here. I suppose you are the first to return. Anomen…' She paused, a heavy silence billowing about them, her face dipped and frowning as she perhaps searched for the words. 'Nalia told me what you asked of her –that I be allowed to stay at the keep when you all return to Suldanessellar. I… understand what you are trying to do, but it is not necessary –I will fight, if only to give back some of the pain I have been afforded.'

Anomen swallowed dryly –her lust for revenge as sad as it was predictable.

'I… see.'

'You expected something else?' she sighed, 'A keen desire to live, perhaps? It is there Anomen, but I can barely feel it under all the anger –I can barely feel that under the great churning void.' She turned away. 'You cannot understand.'

He smiled faintly. 'Oh, I do. It is the same feeling I get when I look at you.'

And, for a moment, she was staring right at him, the first time since the asylum had destroyed what had been between them, her eyes alive and burning in that pale mask of a face.

'Hello? We're back!'

And Fritha turned away as Imoen burst into the room, Aerie and Haer'Dalis trailing after her.

'And look who we found loitering outside the gates,' she laughed, as Valygar made his staid entrance. Anomen raised an eyebrow to the ranger.

'Loitering?'

'Oh yes, and you should have _heard_ the things he was shouting at the passing noblewomen. _All right, pet, show us yer ankle!_'

'Do you imagine you will still be this exuberant when we have finally retrieved your soul?' the ranger questioned coolly.

'Oh no, I'll be _much_ worse.' Imoen whipped back at the sound of the door. 'Ah, I bet that's Jaheira and Minsc.'

It was indeed, the pair thoughtful enough to have arrived with something for their noon meal and everyone gathered about the table once more.

'Well,' sighed Jaheira, the woman laying down her knife, the piece of bread she had just buttered poised in her other hand, 'I spoke to Bernard at the Coronet, but he was reluctant to give me any names of the new operatives in the city. He merely assured me he would pass the message on and there was little more we could do. We went down to the docks to look into Galvarey's old stronghold and see if the place was still in use, but it was deserted.'

'How could you tell?' asked Aerie, 'They could just not have answered.'

Jaheira sent a wry smile to the man next to her. 'Minsc was very _insistent_ in his approach. The place was devoid of both people and goods; just that bedizened shell of a building. If there are Harpers in the city, they are not in there.' Jaheira sighed, seemingly both pleased and frustrated by this. She glanced about the rest of the table. 'I assume you faired better.'

Fritha answered for them. 'The Order has promised knights for the task and the Cowled Wizards were convinced to aid us as well –they are not usually concerned about revenge for comrades slain.'

Valygar muttered his contempt. 'Such an organisation –it is your comrades you must watch for.'

'Come now,' countered Aerie, 'they're hardly the Red Wizards of Thay.'

After her imprisonment, Imoen was feeling less generous. 'Yeah? The only difference I can see is a better public image. That idiot in the group we first spoke to even had the nerve to try and imply that perhaps as an fugitive, I should be taken back into custody! Like they could have managed it!'

'Suffice to say it did not come to that,' Haer'Dalis added quickly, 'Our raven convinced them to present us to Archmage Odella.'

'She seemed reasonable enough during our meeting after the sphere and she proved so again. Once she understood how Spellhold fell, it was agreed that such an act against them had to be seen to be punished.'

'Then we went to over to the circus. Uncle had been worried, but he hadn't heard we were dead so that was something.' Aerie turned to Valygar. 'Had your servants heard anything?'

'No, and I was hardly gone long by my own past actions –they were unconcerned. What of your friends?'

Anomen blinked, suddenly realising he had yet to even see them. 'I… well, many were still abed when I left the Order.'

A long pause, Jaheira continuing stalwartly, 'So, we have what allies we can assemble, now we must bring them together and decide upon a plan. Do we have a time?'

Fritha nodded once. 'Yes and a place too. I will send the message out after lunch. We are to meet before the Council Building at third bells.'

**…**

The room the Cowled Wizards had arranged looked to have been usually used as some sort of lecture hall, four tiers of benches and desks rising up about a semi-circular stage, a huge blackboard covering the entire back wall, the surface stretching right up to the high ceiling, and clearly impossible to use outside of magical means.

Anomen stood just off the central steps on the back row, the vantage allowing him to observe the room and its strange gathering of people at a distance, the mages, thieves and knights all keeping to their own and casting the other groups furtive glances as they waited for the meeting to commence.

Large white lamps hung overhead, the means by which they were lit undeterminable through the opaque glass globes, though Anomen suspected it was not a flame. They did not appear to be at their full brightness either, the wizards perhaps sensitive to the preferences of some of their new allies. Aran has apparently been displeased that their meeting was to be held somewhere so open, and the company he had brought with him looked little happier, the thieves huddled in knots of threes and fours where the shadows were thickest, like students who did not wish to be called upon for an answer.

'Anomen?' came that familiar voice before him and he looked down to see Simon, the young man's expression of hope opening to one of joy as he bounded up the steps, Erick just behind him.

'Anomen! By Dawn's Light, it is good to see you,' the squire laughed, patting his back as he finally drew back from the fierce embrace, 'We feared you dead when news of your ship reached us. The High Watcher assured us you lived yet, though it was little comfort when we knew not where you were. You have been in the city a day, yes? Why did you not seek us out sooner?'

It was a good question; Anomen certainly felt better for seeing them and he wondered why he had avoided it.

'Forgive me, Simon, things have been a touch fraught since we returned to the city.'

'Yes, this nest of vampires,' Erick confirmed gravely as they shook hands, 'We had hoped we had seen the last of them when this guildwar died down.' The young paladin sent a frown to the closest knot of thieves, as though he hoped to blame them for not dealing with the matter completely in the first instance. But mere undead hordes could not dampen Simon's good spirits.

'Well, they will be dealt with soon enough. At the moment, I am interested in what _you_ have been doing since we last spoke. We heard your ship was scuttled by the sahuagin; how did you survive the wreck?'

Anomen smiled weakly; it all sounded so absurd when he recounted it. 'The creatures believed Fritha to be their fish-god's divine champion. The act of sinking our ship was merely a means by which to secure her.'

Simon gave a 'Ha!' of surprised laughter that Anomen felt in his ribcage.

'Sweet Sunrise, I could scarce believe it, yet here you are! And how is Fritha?' he continued, his manner more subdued, and they seemed to turn as one to look down to the girl, stood upon the stage in quiet talks with Wessalen, Aran and Odella. 'I took a moment to speak to her earlier… You'll forgive me, but she seems a little strained.'

Anomen flushed. 'She is… not herself at the moment. This last month was something of a trial for her.'

Simon sighed, sending the girl another sympathetic frown. 'Ah, a shame, truly. Still, you are returned now; a little peace and some time with her friends will likely heal her ills.'

Anomen opened his mouth, trying to force an answer past the yawning hole that had just opened inside, though he was almost instantly saved the effort.

'Squire Simon?'

His friend glanced back at the summons, an older man who Anomen recognised as Simon's knight watching them from the row below with an expectant smile. Simon was instantly at attention.

'Ah, I must go –but we will meet up later and you can tell me all of your travels.'

Anomen watched him go, unwilling to turn and face the knowing eyes of the so far silent man still stood beside him; Erick always had been the sharpest of their three, saying little and noting all.

'As Simon said, we spoke to Fritha earlier. Strained is not the word I would have used. At first, I wondered if she even recognised us.'

Anomen sighed heavily. 'Fritha… I have mentioned, I think, the mage who first took her and her companions prisoner after they left the Gate… He had escaped by the time we had arrived at the asylum for her friend. We were captured. It seemed he had planned it all along. Irenicus, he- he stole her soul, Erick.'

The paladin's expression was unreadable.

'I see.'

'Fritha took the loss very badly. I would like to blame it upon the darkness she houses, but I wonder if she was not equally tormented by her situation; so long struggling to bring her to no more than a death sentence.'

'And your relationship?'

'But another casualty in its wake.'

'I am sorry, Anomen.'

Anomen turned away, letting his gaze drift back to the girl below, stood between the paladin and the thiefmaster; the martyr between the lion and the serpent.

'Please, do not tell Simon, I just could not bear for him to know.'

Erick said nothing, just nodded once and patted his shoulder. The lights above them dimmed, people instinctively moving to take their seats, Erick sinking into the place next to him.

'It looks as though we are about to begin.'

The meeting was little more than an exposition of what their four leaders had already decided. Aran had provided maps to Bodhi's stronghold, and though none knew the exact layout of what was within, they could estimate the complex from old maps of the crypts brought from the Lathandite's libraries, a spell of Odella's projecting the plans in glowing yellow lines upon the board behind her. The thieves had wanted to attack at night, arguing that knowledge of the daylight hemming the creatures in would make the battle all the fiercer; nothing fought harder that a cornered animal. The wizards, too, seemed inclined towards this, but the Prelate and Sir Ryan would not hear of any plans that could allow vampires to escape into the city and in the end Fritha announced they would attack with the dawn and that was the end of it.

After that thorny issue had been settled, it was merely a matter of strategy and how they would hold key positions and move through the stronghold, Fritha stepping back to allow the more experienced among them devise their plan.

And there was a growing sense of anticipation to the air as they finally left the council buildings with the dusk, their small group walking the short distance through the streets back to Anomen's estate. Perhaps it was just to cover up her nerves, or maybe it was the genuine excitement at being on the cusp of her recovery, but Imoen was brim full of exuberance, the girl at Fritha's arm and chattering merrily, seemingly ignoring the fact her friend could manage little more than a smile.

'Sune's eyes, Fritha! Did you just spend those entire four months making the acquaintance of every good-looking man in Amn?'

Fritha just shrugged. 'Not that I was aware of.'

'Are you blind? Simon was _so_ handsome -and Cadril too -oh, and Aran Linvail-'

'_Linvail?_' interrupted Valygar, incredulity seemingly winning out over his usual stoicism. Imoen grinned.

'Ooo, you know, I think I like you even better with green-eyes, Valygar.'

If ever the ranger came close in his life to blushing, it was then. Haer'Dalis sighed deeply and feigned a disconsolate swoon.

'Such enthusiasm for every bird but those in your own flock –this drab sparrow feels quite overlooked.'

Aerie giggled, scooping an arm about his elbow. 'Oh, Haer'Dalis, you are always first in my eyes.'

Imoen watched the pair with a misty-eyed smile.

'_Awww_ –so who's your second then, Aerie?'

'Imoen!' cried the elf as the laughter erupted.

'Well, this is very merry,' trilled that familiar girlish voice. Minsc bellowed the introductions.

'Bodhi!'

It was like a call to arms, every weapon suddenly drawn, Aerie's staff casting them in a pale yellow halo as she readied her first spell.

Fritha quirked the faintest smile. 'Ah, how obliging of you, Bodhi; you've saved us a trip.'

The vampire's mouth stretched back, her grin more grimace as her eyes scanned over the company that was so determined upon her demise.

'Ah ha, how _droll_. I am glad to see you all in such good spirits, especially considering the circumstances. How did you find the Underdark, Fritha?'

'It was a home away from home. A pity you were in such a rush to leave it –I did not have you down as one scared of the dark.'

The vampire raised an eyebrow. 'Another quip? Do you truly take it all in your stride, or is it simply that you do not care anymore?' Bodhi sent her a knowing look and, for the sheerest instant, there was a flicker of sympathy in her dead eyes as she offered quietly, 'I recall what it was like, you know. But either way,' she sighed, her coolly arrogant self once more, 'you are becoming an impressive pest, and one I am finding it increasingly difficult to ignore.'

Fritha merely smiled again, the mask unwavering. 'Give me time, Bodhi, and you will soon find it impossible.'

'Bold words, as ever. Regardless, I have not the time to stand here discussing what you will or will not do. I know you mean to strike at me, but do you truly realise the consequences of such an action?'

'I understand what will happen if I do not.'

'Do you really?' the vampire purred, a genuine smile lighting her face, 'A reminder then, perhaps, of what you still stand to lose, should you pursue this course. Accept your lives, shortened as they are, and lead not others to the same ruin!'

Bodhi vanished in a swirl of blue-black before any move could be made against her, the group slowly returning weapons to their sheaths. Imoen snorted, disappointedly letting the spell fizzle in her hands.

'Well, that was all very frightening; I don't know about you lot, but I feel suitably warned off.'

'Wait,' snapped Fritha, casting sharply about them, 'where is Anomen?'

'What?' cried Jaheira, whipping back to where he had once stood so solidly behind her, 'She took Anomen?'

'By Baervar, we have to do something!'

'But _Anomen?' _repeated Imoen, as though she could not believe anyone would go to the trouble, '_Why?_'

Fritha was rubbing her forehead with the heel of her hand, her eyes closed behind the gesture. 'She said she liked him, remember, back in the asylum, when… when it looked as though I liked him too.'

Imoen gave a burst of nervous laughter. 'Gods, Bodhi's a bit behind on the plot, isn't she?'

Fritha dropped her hand, her face suddenly set with a cold anger. '_Bastard__!_ Right, back to the Council Buildings, we'll catch who we can and have messages sent out to the others; we attack within the hour.'

'And what of the dawn?' asked Valygar, as they turned to set out again, the man always to be relied upon to voice the questions no one else could, 'Anomen would not want us to endanger the city for his sake.'

Fritha snorted darkly, leading them back through the empty streets at furious pace. 'It is not going to be a problem, because we are going to leave no one alive. That _bitch_ thinks she can manipulate me; I would have killed her for the assumption, were she not already marked for death!'

Jaheira was certainly not the only one among them looking worried.

'Fritha, calm yourself. You can not let this anger rule you.'

'Yeah, you're getting Haer'Dalis all hot and bothered for a start.'

'Imoen!'


	95. Daughters of blood

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Baldur's Gate', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**Daughters of blood**

Though she had said they would attack within the hour, it was more like two by the time they were all gathered about the frosted gravestones and mausoleums in the far southeast of the cemetery, a whole heaven of coruscating stars lending light to the scene.

Fritha watched them milling about her, the good two dozen men and women who would be joining them in this battle, the air dancing with colour as the mages cast their protective magics, a clay golem standing sentry in their midst while the knights and priests made final checks to armour and muttered a last few prayers to gods who seemed, from her experience, to care little either way, the thieves lingering in a shadowy knot of their own, just watching and waiting as she was.

They all knew the plan, and Fritha felt the nervous energy quiver through her, not an emotion or even the panic of the voice, but an eager hunger that was not her own. It was the essence, and it knew a battle was at hand. Fritha glanced over to where her own group were making their final preparations, Jaheira catching her eye to break from their company and join her on the edge of the gathering, leaning as she was against the wall of a nearby mausoleum.

'It will be time soon,' the woman offered as greeting. Fritha nodded.

'Yes.'

'I am sure he will-' the assurance died on her lips, Jaheira faltering in favour of something actually believable. 'He would hold on for as long as he could.'

'Yes.'

A long, contemplative pause.

'Fritha-'

A loud and clearly irritated voice cut Jaheira off. A man Fritha did not recognise had arrived in their midst, a group of four others at his back, just mercenaries as they were by their look, their presence clearly being questioned by the equally annoyed Cadril.

'As I _said_,' snapped the stranger stridently, 'we are looking for Jaheira of Tethyr.'

Fritha glanced to the woman next to her. 'Who are they?'

Jaheira frowned. 'Harpers,' she muttered, raising her voice as she stepped forward. 'I am she, who asks for me?'

The pair gazed coolly at each other a moment, the man's voice no warmer as he answered her.

'That does not matter. Suffice to say, we were informed of your inquiries and have since learnt of your cause. We have been sent to aid you.'

'Fine,' Jaheira dismissed just as coldly, 'Speak to Sir Cadril and he will inform you of the plan –find yourselves a role within it.'

Jaheira turned back to her, the slightest dry smile quirking her lips. Fritha straightened, the presence within her giving an excited jump.

'It is time.'

A nod to the mages and the golem thudded forward, a great clay hand reached out to haul back the door on a set of stone steps, the centre of each dipped, worn down by centuries of passing feet. Arkanis, the leader of the thieves stepped up, a smile on his craggy face.

'We will enter first, m'lady, and check for traps- Sahfid, Chloë, take the lead.'

The two young thieves were quick to obey him and in ones and twos the rest of them followed, descending into the darkness.

xxx

A scream pierced the thick stone ceiling, the feel of it lingering long after the sound itself had faded. Anomen lay still, feeling exposed without his armour and even more so without his holy symbol, the man very aware of the heart beating wildly in his chest as he listened to the clash and roar of battle upstairs.

The chamber he had found himself in was circular, a few paces across at the centre, with eight large sandstone sarcophaguses set against the walls to project out into the room in a mockery of a sunburst, his body laid at the foot of one, while Bodhi and her entourage were gathered just to the side of the door opposite talking quietly, their dark outlines moving in the lamplight. There were doors at either side of the chamber too, though he knew instinctively they would lead only to stores or side rooms. This was Bodhi's inner sanctum, where she and her favoured few would lie in their tombs as the hated sun wheeled above them, and it was here the vampire would make her final stand.

Anomen had awoken there a few moments ago, though perhaps that was not the right word. He had not actually been asleep, but since he had been taken, it had felt as though his mind and body had not been his own. Large sections of his memory were blank and what he could recall had a hazy quality, like he was trying to remember some drunken evening with Simon and Erick. Would they be upstairs now? Perhaps that last scream-

'He is awake, mistress.'

He heard before he saw Bodhi's smile, the woman turning to sashay over to him, her boots clicking on the stone tiles, the other vampires trailing behind like her shadow.

'Ah, and just in time. These knightly sorts are always so obliging; they never keep a lady waiting.'

A murmur of appreciative laughter; Anomen swallowed nervously. Bodhi was stood over him now, slightly stooped as though she wanted to taste his fear, her grey face fine-boned and almost child-like, with its small nose and mouth where the red stain she wore had been painted over the edge of the lips in a doll's pout. Their group was silent, clearly awaiting his rejoinder and Anomen tried to keep his voice steady as he let his eyes flick pointedly up to the clamour raging just above them.

'They are coming for me.'

Bodhi laughed gently, black eyes flashing with a keen light. 'Yes, and they will reach you.'

The shadows at her back seemed to surge forward and hands were suddenly upon him, iron bands about his arms and legs, one in his hair to wrench back his head as Bodhi descended and Anomen was certain he felt his arm snap as he struggled vainly.

His neck felt wet -there was no pain –he could feel nothing through the roar of blood and even that faded as the strength drained from his limbs, the world before his eyes dimming slowly. He might see his sister soon, perhaps even his mother, and his last conscious thought was on Fritha –less a prayer, more a final desperate wish to Helm that she would survive the trials she had yet to face. That she would find some peace.

**…**

The main hall had been breached; the long room well lit by lamplight that cast the sandstone vault in gold, a chaos of bodies pressed about the immoveable stone table that divided the room into pockets of fighting, knights, mages and thieves no longer at odds in belief, but united by a common enemy, the fledgling vampires still bearing the arms they would have wielded in life as they commanded the ranks of ghouls and skeletons marshalled from the nearby crypts.

An explosion of blue fire roared over her. Fritha parried the swing from the vampire at her side, lopping off an arm and trusting one of those behind her to finish the creature as she pressed on, decapitating an unfortunate skeleton and pushing ever forward through the confusion of bodies.

A scream to her right, one of the mages disappearing under the raking arms of a pack of ghouls, her fellows readying their next barrage to save her. A thief was already there, planting a blade firmly in the nearest back and Minsc and Jaheira broke away, too, to lend them aid. Fritha let them go, struggling to block out the clamour and turmoil and scent of the battle about her as the essence within bayed for release, all her focus upon the door she just _knew_ led to the lower crypt.

'Come on, it was over here!'

Once just glowing lines on Odella's map -there it was now before her: a solid, wooden door set far along the western wall. One last push, the ghoul before her screaming as magefire engulfed it, its vampire master sliced from groin to chin, and Fritha's hand finally fastened upon the thick metal ring.

'Locked,' she snapped -she could not trust her own magic for this, not with the essence clawing up her insides. She stepped back, letting the ring slip from her hand. 'Imoen?'

Nothing and Fritha whirled to find the girl just reaching her, Valygar before her, katana glazed in red, the man having clearly forged their way through the press as she had, Aerie and Haer'Dalis tailing after them while Minsc and Jaheira appeared from her right, grazed, bloodied and mostly whole –just like the rest of them.

'Imoen- the door.'

The girl had dropped onto her knees in an instant, already fumbling for the roll of picks at her hip, the others forming a barrier about her as she worked. A few paces along, four knights were gathered similarly about a priest, the robed woman knelt, a white halo intensifying about her as she prayed earnestly, Simon in the shield of bodies, his young face splattered with blood and years aged by the grave frown he wore as he fought.

Back at their group, their presence at the door had not gone unnoticed. A huge leap that took him only a head's distance from the crypt's low ceiling and the fledgling landed upon the table, screeching orders to the creatures below. Ghouls and skeletons took up the cry, a blistering explosion of magic distracting half the former before the ghouls could reach them, the group of mages still in the fight, their leader now hanging back, leant against the wall, bloodied but conscious as she shouted her orders.

Valygar's katana was but a silver blur, he and Minsc keeping back the hordes of shambling ghouls while Jaheira was surrounded in an aura of splintering bones, the skeletons vulnerable before her stave, Haer'Dalis keeping the creatures from Aerie as she, holy symbol aloft, reduced them to dust with but a word.

Fritha blocked the skeleton's swing easily, taking off a leg at the thigh bone and caving in the toppling creature's skull with her pommel. On the table, the fledging was scanning the scene, his frustrations growing, Fritha watching his anger while trying vainly to wrestle back her own. Their eyes met, his face twisting with a sneer and she felt the essence within her roar in triumph as she took a single step forward.

The creature jumped from the table, covering half the hall in a single leap to land before her, sword clashing against her own with force enough to bathe them in sparks and the lustful roar filled her body as they traded blows with dizzying speed. Duck, thrust, parry, swing; the essence flowed through her, every muscle responding with barely a thought, the fledgling's every move anticipated and checked, her delight growing with each blow. A sweep to his face, the creature stepping back, the essence urging her forward, driving her shoulder into his chest to send him staggering, her sword darting like a viper from her tensed arms to stab straight through his chest and she turned her face away as cold blood was coughed over her with his dying cry.

Light burst from the knights, the brilliance swelling to fill the room as though sun had risen in their midst. The air filled with unearthly screams, the essence within her shrinking back and Fritha could almost feel the light burning, though it was not to last.

'There!' cried Imoen and the door swung open, Fritha flying down the steps with little care for traps or guardians, Valygar taking the chance to bar the door they had left. Along the corridor, the frieze of Mulhorandi figures barely registering as she ran, rounding the sharp corner to come upon-

'Another door?' panted Imoen, the others but a step behind her, 'Should I-'

'No,' Fritha cut in, glancing back to the elf; it was all in the entrance. 'Aerie?'

The blast left her ears ringing, the door exploding in a hail of wood and smoke which cleared almost instantly to reveal the chamber beyond. And there she was, the surrounding vampires whirling back at sound of the door, hissing and wary. Bodhi's nostrils flared with a deep breath that was more habit than necessity, before the superior smile was hitched into place and the woman swayed toward them for what they both knew would be their final confrontation.

'So, you have come here despite my warnings. I admit, I had hoped as much; it was one of the _many_ reasons I took your knight.'

Imoen was grinning broadly. 'Oh, Bodhi, you're so far behind it's not funny.'

Fritha remained silent a moment, eyes scanning the floor for some sign of him, her voice sounding strangely calm as she asked, 'Where is his body? If you mean to goad me on this you will fail. Much has faded since the last time we spoke, included the relationship between he and I.'

Bodhi trilled a silvery laugh; it sounded uneasy. 'You truly expect me to believe you?'

'Bodhi, your brother stole my soul; I can barely put up with the people I like.'

'It's true,' Imoen piped up cheerfully, 'she can't even stand _me_.'

'I am not surprised at that,' the vampire sneered, 'How I feel for Fritha, having to have such a whelp trailing after her, constantly in need of her shepherding.'

But Imoen just laughed. 'I have the same pity for Irenicus –it's your brother who has the power, after all. He just lets you tag along, running his errands.'

'That is not so! I am his muse, his confi-!'

'Yeah, yeah, whatever you say -we're here for Lanthorn, Bodhi.'

'So you know of that?' The vampire smiled. 'I knew Elhan and the rest of them would have to acknowledge us after this.'

Jaheira was frowning. 'And why should they acknowledge you, monster?'

Bodhi looked torn between anger and incredulous amusement. '_What?_ They did not even _tell_ you? They _made_ me! Created Irenicus and I both in their warped thirst for _justice_, and yet even now, as their precious city teeters on the brink of its ruin, they would still play the innocents and refuse to admit their shame. Ha! And it will be their downfall. Look at you,' she laughed, 'both full of a bravado even _you_ do not believe. Imoen, as ever all prattle and no point and Fritha, I truly thought you a better actress! Your protestations of indifference are pathetic; do you think I cannot see it in your eyes?'

At her signal, the cadre at her back parted to, at last, reveal him, Anomen stood there, stripped of his armour, but still holding his mace, his clothes torn and showing the half-dried cuts beneath where he'd clearly put up a struggle. His eyes instantly found her and Fritha felt something stir at the hunger she saw there, Bodhi glancing quickly between them, trying to gage the girl's reaction.

'Look upon him, Fritha, the one once sworn to you, now my willing slave to serve me here forever.'

Fritha snorted. 'Normally I'd say keep him. After a tenday you'd be _begging_ me to take him back. But we simply don't have the time. We're here for the Rhynn Lanthorn,' Fritha drew her sword, 'and Imoen's soul.'

Bodhi tensed, drawing back clawed hands. 'Let us see if you find the time to quip when your beloved is tearing out your heart!'

Battle erupted.

The two groups scattered, Minsc leading the charge forward, keen to take his revenge from Bodhi's hide. And revenge was being sought by another there, too, though not of her own company, Parisa instantly finding Fritha in the chaos, her pale face twisted with an angry sneer.

'So we meet again, god-child.'

Fritha smiled and the essence within her purred.

'Hello Parisa, you live yet, I see. Did Bodhi ever find out it was you who first told me of your lair?'

Parisa looked livid. 'That she did, _wretch,_ and the wounds were long in the healing. But your blood will go a way to soothing my scars!'

'You want my blood? Come and get it.'

Her sword was already singing through the air, Parisa dodging it by a hair's breadth, body crouched and tense as she lunged under her guard, and Fritha brought the blade back just in time to smash the pommel into her jaw, the woman staggering back with an angry shriek. Fritha almost laughed, the bloody bruise that now bloomed upon her pale chin a joy to see.

'_YOU!'_

And Parisa was lunging at her, Fritha swinging out to keep her back, the vampire sacrificing a few fingers to catch the blade in her bare hand and wrench it forward and Fritha stumbled, cruel black talons sweeping up at her face and the girl could do little more than ready herself for the blow -only it never came. Parisa screamed, the two large hands either side of her slender neck dragging her back. One sharp twist and she was suddenly limp, the man behind letting her fall carelessly to the floor. Fritha could barely form the word in her surprise.

'A-_Anomen?_'

Anomen smiled, the gesture taking a feral edge as it revealed a set of fangs. 'Fritha, my love.'

'Your _love?_' she choked, 'It's been a while since you had cause to call me that.'

He nodded slowly taking a step closer to her, his black eyes locked upon her face with an alarming intensity, the man not even seeming to notice as she took a step back and instinctively raised her blade.

'I know, and yet the sentiment remains still.'

'That's not the impression Bodhi gave.'

Anomen chuckled fondly, smiling down at her as though the battle around them was a thousand miles away. 'My sweet Fritha, I am as I was, but so much more….'

Fritha shook her head, taking another step back from him and feeling something in her shoulders sag; was nothing simple?

'Oh, Anomen, what has she done to you?'

'She has _freed_ me! I could not tell you before, the constant doubt I felt, the idea that everyone was watching me, judging me. My father, the Order, Helm -all waiting for me to fall, to prove what I _knew_ from the very start, that I was unworthy. But now…'

He closed his eyes for the briefest of moments, a rapturous smile gracing his features, 'It is glorious! And it is a glory I would share. You cannot know how I desired you, Fritha, how I ached for you while all the time hiding it behind a veil of pretty words. I would watch you sleep sometimes, imagine lying with you, the curve of your hip under my hand, your sigh at my ear, until my desires all but consumed me. But that man was weak and would not speak of it; only now could I ever be truly worthy of you. Bodhi may think she has charmed me away from you, but it is not so. Already I can feel her hold on me fading; it cannot compare with my love for you. Let me change you, Fritha! Together we shall kill her and Irenicus both, and spend an eternity as one.'

Fritha sighed. 'Anomen, we barely get along from one moment to the next; are you so eager for an eternity of squabbling?'

His expression changed in an instant, the smile replaced by a look of furious contempt. 'You are pathetic! You hide behind your humour as you have always done! You are so weary of this life? Then let me free you from it!'

Fritha danced back as the mace just missed her nose, Anomen halting the swing to slide a hand up the shaft and jab again at her head. She ducked, realising an instant too late, she should have parried as she felt the mace come speeding down towards her bowed head. A flare of panic, fierce energy surging through her limbs, and Fritha flung her sword above her, the blade biting into her gloved hand as she caught the blow, heaving the mace to the side and springing back. Her blade finally free and their quarters close, she thrust forward with the little force she could summon, the tip sinking but a few inches into his exposed chest. For an instant, their gaze met and then she had closed her eyes, putting all her weight behind it to push straight through his heart.

His scream was echoed across the chamber. Bodhi was staggering back, her look of horror unmistakable, even through all the blood as she grasped weakly at the great sword that was skewered through her neck, Fritha rushing to intercept them as the two remaining vampires fought to reach their mistress. Minsc withdrew the blade, weighing the blow as the creature swayed before him, and her head was cleaved in one neat swing, a great burst of white light exploding from her as she fell and Imoen dropped to her knees, a hand clutched to her chest.

The fight was over in all but moments, the surviving vampires left reeling in the wake of Bodhi's dazzling end and they were dispatched quickly, Fritha walking across to where Imoen had manage to struggled to her feet.

'Better?'

Imoen said nothing, just nodded, a hand still pressed to her chest. Fritha turned from her, with a succinct 'good' –that was one thing, at least.

'What should we do with the bodies?' asked Valygar quietly, giving the one nearest to him a poke with the toe of his boot.

'Leave them,' answered Fritha, crossing to where Jaheira was knelt beside Anomen's paled form. 'The priests upstairs will ensure they stay dead.'

The druid glanced up as she arrived, her face ashen, Fritha focusing on that rather than the body beneath her.

'It looks as though he put up quite a fight; his arm is broken.'

Fritha sighed ruefully. 'He died as he lived: giving me grief. I expect he would have wanted it that way. Minsc, Valygar- get his body, we should return him to his brothers. What have you got there, Aerie?' she asked, turning to greet her and the tiefling as they returned from one of the side rooms, the elf just shaking her head, too upset to speak and Haer'Dalis answered for her.

'Anomen's belongings, the Rhynn Lanthorn and Aerie also found some books stamped with the seal of Oghma.'

'Some bedtime reading perhaps?' offered Imoen weakly. No one laughed –not even she. Fritha just nodded, sheathing her blade.

'Bring it all. Come, let's leave this tomb.'

Upstairs, the fighting was over, the air filled with the murmured liturgy as a flock of priests swept through the complex, laying the undead to their final rest, the air heavy with the scent of incense and blood.

Those that had survived the battle were above ground, gathered under the unfeeling heavens once more, those that still could be saved laid to one side being tended by the many priests, while on the other were those who were not so fortunate, the bodies just lain under cloaks in a line that just seemed to keep growing. And it was not to stop with them.

'Fritha?' came the cry, the knot of waiting knights parting and suddenly Simon was striding across to them, Erick at his heels, their eyes fixed upon the limp body Minsc and Valygar had slung between them in his old blue cloak.

'Anomen? Oh, merciful gods, we were too late!'

'He is dead,' Fritha said simply, the squire already searching the crowd of priests next to them, High Watcher Oisig appearing from the press of robes.

'Can something be done, Father? Can his soul be called back?'

But the old priest was shaking his head. 'I fear the way he died… nothing can be done, squire.'

Erick looked broken, gazing down at the man they had laid gently at his feet. 'Helm's mercy.'

'Oh, Anomen,' cried Simon, 'by the Dawn, it was but hours ago we spoke and now…Oh, and dear Fritha!' And suddenly she was crushed to his chest as the young squire pulled her to him in a fraught embrace, the girl feeling his assurances through her ribcage. 'You must not blame yourself. He died in service to you and fighting a grave evil –had he a choice, he would have chosen it so.'

'As you say,' she muttered, gingerly patting his arm as she waited for her release. Mercifully, Erick intervened.

'Come, Simon, we will return him to the temple with the others. I understand, Fritha, you and your companions have vital tasks still pressing upon you and we wish you well in them. Farewell.'

Simon finished mopping as his eyes to stoop as Erick did, the pair taking up the burden between them to carry their friend back to his fellow knights and Anomen was gone.

'What are we going to do now?' asked Imoen quietly.

Fritha scanned over them, that line of grey faces, the three worn tomes clutched to Aerie's chest as she wept quietly into her hand. She owed the shrine of Oghma enough to take them back. Fritha sighed.

'Well, firstly, we are going to return these books.'

**...**

The walk to the docks seemed achingly long. Aerie was still weeping softly, Haer'Dalis whispering at her ear, a scene mirrored with Minsc and his hamster, the man's great head bowed and miserable as he chattered quietly to the creature, the rest of them just wearing those sombre, resigned looks of ones who had lost too many friends over the years for this to be anything unexpected.

Fritha could understand it, but she could not feel it with them. It had been a while in the coming, but she was finally, utterly empty, the feeling so complete she wondered, if someone ran her through, would she even bleed. She turned, leading them down the wide street, the shrine halfway along it, the building a burnt orange in the streetlamps.

'Won't the library be closed at this time of the night?' ventured Imoen. Fritha shrugged.

'Yes, but we can just leave them on the door-' She stopped, both speech and step halted as her eyes caught on the light that was moving beyond those great, black windows. A glance to the others and Fritha was tripping up the steps, a hand already upon her sword hilt as she knocked upon the wood, the door finally opened by an old man Fritha recognised as one of the librarians, his woolly brows brought low as he fixed his glasses to his nose and finally brought her into focus.

'Ah, yes, miss?'

'I found these books. I believe they are yours.'

'Why, yes! Yes indeed,' he cried, as she handed them over for his confirmation. 'I'd been intrigued to hear where you found them -won't you step in a moment? The air is damp and I fear for the books.'

Fritha turned back, sending another glance to the others, before following him inside, the old man moving to set the three volumes upon the nearest table, next to the large pile of books he appeared to have been cataloguing.

'New shipment just arrived from a library in Calimshan,' he answered to her look. 'The patron who was so kind to pay for them is coming to visit tomorrow, so we thought it best they were on display. Now, you said you found these?' he continued, picking up the topmost of the three worn tomes. Fritha nodded.

'Yes, in a vampire crypt beneath the city.'

The old man nodded wisely. 'Ah, that explains much. The books were stolen a few months back when we suffered a break-in here. The three, though unrelated by author, are all on the subject of vampirism. The first two volumes,' he tapped the two still on the table with a long, crooked finger, 'old as they are, are merely a collection of stories - a grain of truth in each, but nothing a cleric or sage would find surprising. The _third_ however,' he smiled, letting the book he held fall open at will, 'is _far_ more worth of study and I suspect what these vampires likely wished to keep from our knowledge –little did they realise it had already been translated and scribed, eh?

'It tells of how fledglings who have yet to feed may be restored to life if their sire is killed. Of course, it must be done before the body decomposes too much, and you would need the heart of the sire, but it was a simple enough ritual devised by an ancient sun cult, who appealed to their god for aid when one of their most ancient settlements was to be overrun by the creatures. A shame really, for though physical remnants of the worship remain -I know of one temple ruins not far from here- the god himself is long dead and his power with him. Perhaps you have heard of him? Amaunator was his name when he was still worshiped, although that is from the ancient Netherese, _Amarntarun_, meaning- oh!' he cried, as the book left his hand, Fritha already at the door.

'I'll bring it back.'

Jaheira whipped around at the sound of the door, Fritha bounding down the steps looking wild. 'Fritha?'

'We can still save him.'

Jaheira felt an unease stir in her; Fritha had hardly held the strictest ethics of late –what lengths was the girl now contemplating to return Anomen to life? And Jaheira's worries were shared; Valygar was frowning deeply.

'Fritha, you do not mean-'

'Listen!' she barked, hastily shoving a book into her bag as she started along the street, 'We haven't much time. There may be a way we can restore him.'

'But, Fritha-'

'Jaheira!' the girl snapped, and for a second it was there, that pleading look she used to get when all she needed was their faith. Jaheira abruptly shut her mouth, Fritha whipping back to the others. 'We'll split into two groups. Aerie, Imoen and Haer'Dalis go with Jaheira back to the tombs; we need Bodhi's heart. Hurry, before those priests reduce it to ash. Minsc, Valygar, you're with me. We'll meet you outside the ostler's in the slums.'

'And where are you going?' ventured Aerie. Fritha paused, turning back to them, her face a grim mask of orange and black in the lamplight.

'To get his body back.'

xxx

'Young Fritha?' came Minsc behind her, the two men finding it hard to match the pace she was setting to the temple, even taller as they were, the huge building just before them now, windows casting warm yellow panes of light over the canals. 'Young Fritha, what do you plan?'

Fritha slowed, finally bringing them to a halt at the doors as she made her answer. 'The librarian told me -the book contains details of a ritual that can bring fledglings back to life. It was holy to Amaunator. The librarian lamented that He no longer held any power within this world, but we know differently, do we not.'

'The ruins of Umar,' the Rashemi confirmed after a moment to consider it, Valygar frowning as he looked between them. Fritha nodded once, turning to enter.

'Yes… and that is where we must go.'

'And this ritual,' interrupted Valygar, stalling her once more, '_how_ will it restore him –do you know that? Will he be as he was? Or will he be… changed. I know that some priests can sometimes draw back those not long passed, but it is three days to Umar -Fritha, some things are not supposed to return from beyond the veil.'

Minsc was nodding gravely. 'Boo says-'

'_Boo says! Boo says!'_ she shrieked angrily, 'I'm sick of hearing it! The only words I would hear again are his!'

'Fritha, what happened to Anomen was not your fault,' pressed Valygar.

'No, but what happens now is up to me and this is the path I chose. Walk with me willingly or not at all.'

A glance between the two men, some imperceptible agreement passing in the look and Fritha turned back to the doors.

The temple was quiet, the High Watcher and many of the other priests still likely at the graveyard, and the chapel was almost empty save for the four mourners who were sat in pairs across two of the central pews, Fritha's stomach tightening as her eyes caught on the second pair, two heads dipped in silent prayer, one black, one gold. Erick and Simon.

The room was dark, something which made the brilliance of the altar all the more stunning, the huge stone slab cornered by four thick candles, the flickering light catching on the fine gold embroidery of the altar cloth, that great blue eye staring straight at her as she walked down the centre aisle. His friends glanced up, nodding to her as she passed, perhaps thinking she had come to make her peace with the man and bid him that last farewell. Perhaps she would yet, but it would not be here and it would not be now.

_This won't work, you know. He is gone; it is no loss, we need to get back to the city! …Those elves are counting-_

'Don't even pretend you care about them.'

'Sorry?' muttered Valygar behind her.

'I said keep close and follow my lead.'

They had reached the altar, three bodies laid out before it, their faces covered by deep blue shrouds, though Fritha recognised him by his cloak. She turned to the men with her.

'Right, you two get his body.'

One last wary glance to each other, before they obeyed, Minsc and Valygar stooping to heave the body up between them, their activity not going unobserved.

'Ah, Fritha?' questioned Simon hesitantly, his friend much less uncertain, Erick on his feet and stumbling over himself as he hastened to reach the aisle.

'What are you doing, Fritha? Return him to the altar!'

Fritha shook her head, already making a furious pace for the doors and he caught her just in time, Simon stumbling after him, the two knights in the pew behind hovering at the end of their row. Fritha felt an unfamiliar rush of angry desperation.

'Erick, I can still save him.'

The paladin raked an angry frown over the three of them. 'And what fell sorcery do you speak of? The High Watcher said-'

'The High Watcher was wrong! There is a religion older than Helm or Lathander and it can save him!'

'What heresy is this?' cried the knight behind him.

'It is _not_ heresy!'

'She is mad with grief!' cried the other. Simon shot him a quelling glare, his face returned to that expression of gentle sorrow as he turned back to her.

'Fritha, I know you loved him, but-'

'Simon,' Erick cut in with a frustrated sigh, 'She and Anomen ended their relations a month back! The girl has since lost her soul and, I think, much more besides.'

'Neither of which have any bearing here!' snapped Fritha, 'Now let us pass!'

Erick remained firm. 'We cannot let you take him, not, at least, without speaking to the High Watcher.'

'And have him deny me? Simon, _please_,' she implored, her voice quieter as she fought to form the words in her rising anger, 'we can still save him. You must trust me… as he once did.'

She watched as Simon's face hardened, the squire stepping forward, sword slowly drawn and raised as though to bar her path when suddenly he had whirled, barrelling into his friend and kicking the pew back to pin the other two.

'_Run!_'

xxx

They tore all the way to the slums. Fritha was just glad of the darkness –charging about the streets with dead bodies in tow was a hard thing to explain away and they could not afford any delays. Simon had bought them some time, but she doubted the Helmites or, indeed, the Order would just allow her to leave with their fallen comrade.

The others were awaiting her as instructed outside the ostler's, one among them having the foresight to hire a pony and travois. Anomen was laid upon it, bound in cloak and ropes, and with the night still heavy about them, they left the city gates for Umar.

They took the main road at first, Fritha marching them until high sun before they stopped for a few hours, where the others slept and she paced the edge of the camp, restless with the knowledge if she lay down now, nothing might wake her. They left the road on the second day, taking a more direct route over the hills, the pony loaded with their gear as Minsc and Valygar carried the travois between them over the uneven ground.

No one complained. Hardly anyone seemed to speak for the entire journey, or perhaps she merely had not noticed, all her focus upon their goal.

They reached Imnesvale in the early morning of the third day, the icy square thankfully empty as they crossed to the only inn. Fritha had told the innkeep Anomen was poisoned and they were in the area for a cure, the man still looking reluctant even as he led them up the narrow stairs to their rooms, their group all paired up and sharing –Fritha was in with Anomen.

She stood, gazing out the small window, the view north over the forests they would soon be travelling. To make the temple ruins by the next sunrise, they would have to leave soon, but the others needed to rest and there was still one last thing to be done in the meantime. A knock at the door behind her, more warning than request, Jaheira entering without a word, Aerie behind her, a large dish of scented water held steady in her hands.

Fritha could feel what little of herself still cared growing uncomfortable as they began to strip his body, Aerie surprisingly unaffected as she blithely dipped her cloth into the water and set to her task, and Fritha did the same, keeping her attention firmly above the line of his chest as she washed the blood and dirt from his skin. She had seen his chest bare before, lightly tanned skin hatched with the pale lines of long-healed scars and the dark red cuts the vampires had left him with and, in the centre, the long, narrow wound where she had driven the blade home, closed now by Jaheira's magics, -a half smile above his heart.

His face was serene in death and Fritha carefully wiped it over, combing fingers through his hair to loose the dust, the hair softer that she would have imagined and slightly greasy. She looked down at him, studying his face, the faint lines at his mouth and brow, the faded white scar that just nicked his lower lip; it was almost as though he was sleeping…

'Fritha!'

She glanced up sharply, eyes falling on things she would have rather not have seen before finding the druid's face, the woman turned back from where she had been busy mixing the pungent oils and watching her with a concerned look.

'I said are you ready to turn him?'

Fritha nodded and they did. His back was much clearer, of both scars and cuts, and she washed the skin quickly, the others finishing the rest of him and together they re-dressed the body in clean clothes, Jaheira setting his fractured arm and binding it up before they heaved him onto the spare bed. Fritha watched as the two women anointed him with the oils and water they had blessed as the book had instructed, before they both retired. And there he lay, as though sleeping, and Fritha had to resist the urge to put a blanket around him against the chill as she sat watching him, the women long departed.

She sighed, turning from him to settle on the floor, her back resting against the low wooden frame of his bed, knees drawn up to her chest. It had been days since she had slept, but she could not feel the exhaustion, her heart restless. It had always been her dying, and in the overwhelming knowledge of this, she had never really expected any of the others to leave her. Fritha glanced again to the body behind. His head had lolled slightly to one side, a few stray hairs falling across his brow and she brushed then aside with a wan smile.

'Didn't I say you would likely die in my company? But you would have none of it.'

She shook her head, turning back and hugging her knees to her chest, not sure from where inside the words were pouring even as they came.

'When I first met you, I thought you were an idiot. Not in an unkind way, you understand, but all young and keen and full of talk. And then I got to know you a bit better and then I _really_ thought you were an idiot. Constantly losing your temper and picking fights with me… But then something else crept in as well, I don't know what you would call it. A friendship, I suppose, but different from one I shared with the others. And though we still fought, I did not blame you for it. And then you found out I was one of the Children and you did not seem to care; the fact I did not realise you knew until you told me, showed you could be understanding when you wished it. And time wore on, with more arguments, but a dozen other small kindnesses as well. Then came the confessions of love, and though it took me a while to admit it, I found I rather liked you, too. And I _was_ happy, in that time, Anomen, even with what happened since. I- I do not blame you for what was said, I never did, not really, but your words came at the worst time and in that moment it was just another hurt laid upon me. And then I began to forget and your affection did no more than make this hole inside me all the more noticeable. I could not bear you near…'

She trailed off, the memories hard to think on –they had shared something, something special and now it was gone.

'But you stayed, even after everything… and I suppose what I am trying to say is that I've rather come to rely on you… I understand you're probably with Helm now, but,' she glanced back to him, swallowing painfully, 'but, I need you, so please… please come back.'

xxx

'Here, Minsc, lay him upon the altar.'

'When is the sunrise?'

'We've a few moments yet, Aerie. Fritha?'

Fritha finally tore her eyes from the ceiling of cracked glass, the blue-tinged panes making the watery predawn light seem all the weaker. They were crowded within that small, square room, those about her little more expressive than those stylised figures that decorated the walls behind them, Anomen's body laid out upon the carved stone sarcophagus where the young priestess once more slept, peaceful in her final rest, his hands cupped gently upon his chest, Bodhi's desiccated black heart resting within.

It had been clear when they had first arrived there in the early hours of that morning, that from the set and angle of that chamber, the sun would not, under normal circumstances, strike that altar until the noon. But once they knew to be looking, it did not take them long to find the system of lenses and mirrors in the ruins above, and they had spent their last few hours cleaning and clearing the spotty, clouded glass. Fritha was glad of the distraction –anything to keep her from the restless twisting of her insides. Four days of feeling so and soon it would all be over, though in what way the Fates had yet to reveal.

'Fritha,' Jaheira questioned again, the only one of them who seemed to have any life about her, 'Do you have the ritual?'

'Yes, do you want the translation or the original Netherese written out phonetically?'

'The Netherese,' said Jaheira, nodding grimly as she received the page, 'this chance seems all too slim as it is. All right, step back all of you, there can be no shadow upon the altar.'

They shuffled back, stood silent in the dark edges of the room, Jaheira at the foot of his body as they waited. Fritha could feel the sombre doubt about her – this would never work…

A pale flicker as that first beam of light struck the edge of the stone, but the druid did not begin her chant until it had crept to his brow, Fritha hearing the translation in her mind even as the endless Netherese echoed about them

…_Arise, arise, child of darkness, now of light. Let the glory of Amaunator purge your heart. Arise, arise child of darkness, now of light. Let…_

Perhaps it was something to do with the lenses, but the light was creeping down his body at a rate much faster than any sunrise, opening the grey skin in healthy, radiant gold. It reached his fingers, Aerie's cry starting them as the heart burst into flames and Fritha darted forward on instinct to knock it from his chest, though the fire seemed to hold no heat and she hovered there, on the edge of the light as it died of its own accord. The room was silent, Jaheira's chant halted at the elf's cry, everyone staring at the body as Anomen heaved one great rasping breath and slowly began to stir.

Jaheira was at his side instantly, a reassuring presence in the surrounding uproar, Aerie flinging herself into Haer'Dalis arms with a shriek of joy, everyone about the altar laughing and striking shoulders and backs, confessing how they had never dared to hope it would succeed. Anomen was sitting now, Jaheira still at his arm, swiftly checking him over, Imoen beaming as she skipped closer.

'Back from the dead, eh, Anomen? How do you feel?'

'Thirsty,' he admitted hoarsely, 'but fine.'

'Ah, glorious day! Young Anomen is returned to our company –Evil, hear this and tremble!'

'Yes, all right, Minsc, but the only things trembling now are the walls.'

Anomen looked warmed by the familiarity of it all, his eyes finding her on the edge of the room, Fritha the only one among them not wearing a smile, the man sending her a firm nod through the jubilation. She returned the gesture.

**…**

They remained at the temple ruins for the rest of the day, making camp upon the surface in one of the least dilapidated rooms, the broken stone walls providing shelter from the winds, and it was quite cosy once the fire was lit, their canvas stretched over the top as a roof. There was much to catch up on, the others giving Anomen an account of what they had done after he had been taken, including Bodhi's revelation about the elves and their seemingly economical application of the truth, before the knight himself was bombarded with questions, mostly from Imoen, on vampirism and the afterlife, which Anomen had been unable to answer, for indeed he remembered nothing of it.

But the exuberance of their success could not sustain them indefinitely. It had been a hard few days with little sleep and their group bedded down soon afterwards, Fritha rising to volunteer for the first, and what would likely be only watch patrolling the ruins.

Anomen lay still, watching the canvas flap above him. The dull ache of his chest and arm both would have kept him awake even if he had been tired, his right arm resting awkwardly across his stomach in its sling. He recalled nothing of his death, his last memory: that girl before him, her eyes squeezed tightly shut as she pushed the blade through his chest, Anomen wrestling with the decision to make one last brutal swipe at her and then it had all fallen away. It was a strange feeling, knowing you had been dead -and not just for a moment, but days, only to be brought back by a god who, not only had you never knelt to, but who was reputed to be long dead.

It was no good; he could not lie there just letting his thoughts rattle about his head.

Outside, icy winds were whipping across the exposed ruins, the air bracing and fresh in his stale lungs. He did not have to go far to find her, Fritha sat on the edge of the large stone fountain that made up the courtyard's centrepiece, the chatter of the falling water and susurrus of the surrounding forests masking the sound of his feet as he approached.

Though she herself had made little comment as the others had relayed to him the story of his resurrection, it had been clear that she had been the driving force behind it, and the idea that someone who had for so long professed indifference had gone to such lengths had stuck with him. He was not deluded enough to infer from it that her previous feelings for him were restored, that after this was over, they would be reunited as though never they had sundered. But perhaps it was a sign that the Fritha he had once known was not completely gone, and, whatever happened between them afterwards, he would just be glad of that.

Her face was raised and as he closed upon her he could see her eyes were shut, the girl turned southwards as she enjoyed the weak sunlight and he thought his approach still unnoticed when her voice broke the stillness.

'Hello, Anomen.'

He nodded at her greeting, taking a seat beside her, and silence fell over the courtyard once more, Anomen spending a moment enjoying the light as she had been.

'I wanted to thank you for saving me, Fritha.'

The girl shrugged. 'It was a group effort.'

Anomen just smiled.

'Yes, but I find you have a way of making things happen.'

She fixed him with what could have almost been a mildly curious look. 'Do you truly remember nothing from your time as a vampire?'

Anomen sighed; if anyone was owed the truth, it was she.

'I recall flashes. A thirst that I doubted could have ever been quenched and a power that seemed to come from my very blood -unnerving to think on now, though I revelled in it at the time.'

'You were certain extolling its virtues when I spoke to you.'

He nodded absently. 'There comes a strange feeling of freedom when find you do not care what others think of you.'

The curiosity to her face was unmistakable now. 'Do you miss it?'

He shook his head, the sudden feeling of completeness making him smile.

'No. I spent so much of life listening to my father proclaiming my lack of worth, that I think a small part of me came to believe he was right. Even after I was knighted, it was as though I was waiting to fall, to fail somehow and prove my worst doubts true. And then I did, I became a vampire, a fell creature of darkness, and yet I returned with your help to find I still had my friends and my faith. All this time, my fears have been unfounded and now… now, I finally feel at peace with myself. I _also_ recall what I said to you, Fritha…' he added reluctantly. 'The words were true, albeit slanted in a certain way, but I apologise if they made you feel discomfited.'

Fritha's indifference did not even stretch to a shrug, the girl turning back to the empty courtyard as she offered, 'Your fellows at the Order likely still think you dead. I would send them message saying otherwise, if I were you. And you should perhaps mention that you are very grateful to Simon -I imagine he will be in quite some trouble for helping us.'

Anomen smiled and nodded. 'I shall; you are kind to think of it.' He paused, letting his eyes trace over her face, the breeze pulling bright copper strands across pale profile. 'It was strange how Bodhi's control of me seemed to fade once you arrived. My last thoughts were of you -perhaps that was the cause.'

She turned back to him, neither embarrassed nor warm.

'I am glad you are not dead, Anomen.'

He smiled, clasping her furthest shoulder for a friendly one-armed embrace which she bore with a commendable resilience, before he drew back, the cold finally getting to him, the raw pink to her cheeks indicating similar for her, though she might not be feeling it.

'Come, Fritha, let us inside.'

Back at the camp the others were stirring, the group breaking momentarily as more wood was found and water fetched, Jaheira building up the fire and they shared out their rations with the fading light, the group settling once more.

Fritha wanted to return the book to the shrine of Oghma, an idle wish which had prompted a flurry of activity from Aerie as she flicked furiously through her spellbooks to find a transport circle she had been reading about 'just the other day' whilst trying to decipher the runes upon the amulet which would be returning them all to Suldanessellar on the morrow. Fritha was seemingly acceptant of the risk that it could end up on the other side of Toril, and had dashed off a quick note of thanks to the librarians to slip inside the book, before lending her parchment and inks to Anomen for his own correspondences.

Anomen's broken arm prevented his own writing, at least legibly, and Imoen had cheerfully volunteered herself as scribe as he composed a letter first to the Prelate and High Watcher and then a second note to Simon thanking him for his own part in his salvation, the girl dutifully taking down his dictation –albeit with her own _minor_ additions.

'…I do not know what punishment the church or indeed the Order have placed upon your for your actions, but I pray they see the honest heart that rested behind them and found themselves moved towards leniency.'

'… _moved towards len-i-ency_…' the girl repeated slowly, '_And just on a side note: if you're are around when I'm (Imoen) back in Athkatla, maybe you and me could meet up some time and-_'

'Imoen,' scolded Jaheira, Anomen leaning over trying to catch a glimpse of the letter.

'Please tell me she has not written that.'

Over her shoulder, Valygar shook his head, Imoen still laughing as she dismissed, 'No, no, I'm just teasing.'

Jaheira did not find it quite as funny. 'Imoen, you will relinquish the task of writing to another if you cannot be trusted. Goodness knows why you offered in the first place; your handwriting is appalling!'

'Gods, you sound _just_ like High Scribe Mardine. Anyway, are we finished?'

Anomen faltered, clearly trying to find his place once more. 'Ah, my sincere thanks, your brother in arms, Anomen.'

'_My sincere thanks… love and kisses-'_

'Imoen!'

'All right, all right, see? Perfect!' she laughed, holding the letter up before him and whipping it away again before he'd even a glimpse, Imoen quickly folding it up to scribble the directions on the front as she made to her feet, 'Right, are we ready, Aerie?'

The elf glanced up from the rune circle she had been chalking out just beyond the mouth of the room. 'Yes,' she nodded, dusting off her knees as she rose as well, 'just put it in the centre. Now where are we sending this to?'

'Send it to Hendak,' offered Fritha quietly, 'he will know what to do.'

Imoen clapped her hands together. 'Right then, Hendak, it is! Who's Hendak?

'The innkeep at the Copper Coronet,' laughed Aerie, gently taking the bundle from her to lay it within the circle at their feet. 'Here, I'll focus, you act as source.'

They joined hands over the circle, Aerie chanting her spell as the runes glowed blue. A flash of smoke and the packet was gone.

'Has it worked?' cried Aerie delightedly. Imoen crouched closer to peer at the charred patch it had left.

'Either that or we've just incinerated it.'

'Boo thinks it worked,' announced Minsc decisively. That seemed enough for Aerie, the elf smudging a couple of the runes with her foot and clambering back through them the settle once more next to Haer'Dalis, Imoen throwing herself back down between Fritha and Jaheira with a sigh.

'Well, that's one thing. Can't have all those knights pitching up at Suldanessellar demanding Anomen's body back.'

The knight snorted sombrely. 'Come the morrow, we may well be able to oblige them.'

But Imoen just laughed. 'Oh, don't be so morbid –that's Valygar's job. I know what we're going to face tomorrow, but we've been through worse and, you know what, I've got a really good feeling about it.'

Valygar muttered something inaudible, but most likely dour, and Jaheira announced the rota of watches before an argument could get started. Fritha let their talk wash over her as she lay her face down into the rough rolled cloak that served her as pillow

She, too, had a feeling about tomorrow. She felt she was going to die.


	96. A matter of death and life

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Baldur's Gate', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

_Author's note: Well, we are very nearly at the end now, and I would like to take the opportunity to thank my betas and everyone who took the time to leave feedback over the last ninety-five chapters._

_I first began this story as a means to improve my writing style and the comments I've received from both betas and readers has really helped with this. For those readers who haven't left any feedback before now, I understand, because I find it very difficult to write what I would consider helpful, balanced reviews myself, but I would ask you here, if you have anything to say which you feel could be constructive and help me further my goal of improving my writing, **please **submit it, because we're fast running out of chapters for you to comment on, and I would find it a great help. _:-)

– Blackcross & Taylor

**A matter of death and life **

It was just before dawn. The stone of the courtyard bore a light dusting of hoar frost, whipped into fine whorls and thorns by the night's wind. Fritha watched her breath hang in the icy air. Snow clouds were gathering above them, the first delicate flakes drifting down to kiss her exposed face. She looked south to the village she knew was still sleeping beyond the black, mist-wreathed forest. She imagined Kaatje awakening to find her world a blanket of white, her excitement as she pulled on her boots to go out and play in the snow.

She could already be dead by then.

'Fritha?'

She turned at the druid's voice, the others already gathered in a circle a few paces from her, Aerie holding the amulet that would return them to Suldanessellar.

'Are you ready?'

She nodded, moving to join their circle, a hand stretching out with the others, a finger from each of them resting on the cold metal disk as Aerie gathered her magics.

Fritha opened her eyes. The trees towered about her, a weak winter sun streaming through the web of branches above to dapple the fallen pillars and collapsed dome of the ruins behind them, the few soldiers on guard there leaping up at the their appearance. Fritha fixed the closest one with her near-black gaze.

'Go and tell Elhan we have arrived.'

**…**

The soldiers had not insisted on an escort –perhaps Elhan had said to expect them, one running off to inform the prince of their arrival, while Fritha led the group back through the encampment to where they and the general had last spoken -only this time it would be _she_ who was to ask the questions.

'Hey, isn't that?' came the girl beside her, Imoen suddenly raised on her tip toes as she yelled, 'Hey, Solaufein!'

And Fritha glanced in the direction of her manic waving to spot him, the drow clearly helping two elves dismantle the tent next to them, before he had glanced back at his name. He was seemingly growing more accustomed to his new surroundings, the broad hat still worn, but the veil was gone, and she could see the slight smile gracing his usually impassive face as he marched across to them.

'Fritha, you yet live,' he greeted, clasping her forearm in welcome and sending a nod to the rest of them. Fritha shrugged.

'So far. You managed here?'

The smile he wore twisted wryly. 'Well enough –some are more trusting than others, though I was treated better than an elf would have been in my own city –I endured. You go now to meet with the general? I shall join you if I may.'

'The more, the merrier,' laughed Imoen –there could clearly _never_ been too many people to share in the elves' disgrace.

General Sovalidaas and his young sergeant were within the general's pavilion as they arrived, though a shout from one of the guards brought them out soon enough, the elves looking both eager and apprehensive.

'You have the Lanthorn?'

'Yes,' confirmed Jaheira, eyes scanning the camp about them. 'The city is still sealed then?'

The general nodded grimly. 'Nothing has changed.'

'And Irenicus is still inside?' pressed Imoen, the elves sharing a look as the sergeant faltered, 'Why, yes -that we can tell.'

Anomen's eyes narrowed in suspicion. 'We have faced such treachery before. Your words had better hold true -if we save your city only to find the mage long fled, I will murder you myself.'

Fritha intervened before the sergeant could snap his reply. 'Draw it mild, Anomen. Irenicus is here –I know it.'

'Prince Elhan arrives,' announced Sovalidaas, cutting off any further argument, 'Your Highness.'

Elhan merely nodded at their salutes, attention instantly on the newcomers.

'You have the Lanthorn?'

Fritha nodded, making no move to take it from where it was nestled safely in Aerie's pack.

'Yes, Bodhi had it as we suspected –and she also had _quite_ a lot to say before we killed her.'

'How can you trust the words of that vampire?' snapped the sergeant.

'Oh, who said she was a vampire?' trilled Imoen. The two soldiers flushed, Elhan the only one to meet her eye as Fritha sent him a measured look.

'You have been withholding information, Elhan.'

'As though that matters now! We have not the time-'

'_I_ have the time,' she countered coldly, 'and I think you'll find the truth is all that matters when _I_ wish to hear it. Now tell me what you know.'

'Every moment is vital! You do not…' He trailed off, still trying to press her past it as he offered weakly, 'We do not speak of it to outsiders and it is not my place to tell; the high priestess or queen-'

'Could be dead,' Jaheira snapped. 'If you are happy enough to let us _outsiders_ save your city, then you can tell us why you brought its ruin about to begin with.'

Elhan gave a frustrated sigh, glancing briefly to the two elves beside him before turning back to them, his voice a hollow monotone.

'Bodhi spoke the truth. She and Irenicus are not the strangers we may have led you to believe. The seeds for this tragedy were sown decades ago. Irenicus… or Jonoleth as he was known back then, was a celebrate mage of our city; he had the peoples' respect and the queen's love. I could never have believed of him this evil. If anything it was his sister's influence that was his downfall. What Baelidra lacked in her brother's skills she made up for in her hunger for power and in the end it was all Jonoleth craved too. Together they sought more power than was possible and they were not concerned about the consequences. Irenicus performed a dark ritual and committed a grave offence against the most sacred symbol of our city: the Tree of Life. He sought to merge his essence with the tree and though he failed in the end, there was a price to pay for the rest of us. He disrupted our peoples' connection to the tree and many of our weaker citizen lay near death. He claimed later that he had been hoping for a way to protect the city, hoping to somehow harness the energy of the tree should Suldanessellar ever come under attack, though none believed him.'

Elhan shook his head, just as lost as he had been those many years ago, it seemed.

'I wonder still if it was an outright lie, or merely how he justified to himself such an act. That he would endanger so many for his own selfish goal was terrible enough, but to threaten the very nature of what makes us who we are was unfathomable. Many called for his execution, but the queen was torn.' Elhan dipped his face, finally shamed as he confessed, 'I loved Jonoleth as own my brother and I knew well of my sister's love for him, too. I convinced her to seek another way. We spoke to Demin, the High Priestess and together she and the Queen petitioned the Seladrine. Irenicus's fate was decided and it was harsh. One who would act so against his own people was deemed no true elf and, as such, their connection to their elven spirit was severed.'

Fritha swallowed, the words sticking in her throat as a swell of all but forgotten sympathy surged through her heart.

'You took his soul.'

Elhan nodded curtly. 'His and his sister's both. It was decreed that as they had sinned against their very nature, that the essence of what made them elves would be removed. I understand Baelidra tried to avoid her fate by exposing herself to vampirism and becoming the creature you knew as Bodhi, though she found divine punishments are not so easily circumvented.'

Fritha was staring back at them, a hand pressed to her own chest as though she could feel her soul's distant cry of outrage.

'How _could_ you?'

'You do not understand!' Elhan shouted, guilt and temper rising at the accusation. 'It was done as a mercy! Their lives were reduced by the act, yes, but not as yours has been; they would have lived as long as any human would. The procedure was not meant to kill them, but show to them the true meaning of their heritage and, once realised, they would return in humility to make amends and once more rejoin our people.'

Imoen snorted. 'Well, guess what? It didn't work.'

Elhan shook his head, his sorrow tangible. 'We realise that now. What we truly believed was a lapse in judgement, was, in fact, the work of a man wholly consumed by his ambition –his actions here prove it beyond doubt.'

But Fritha was not having them so neatly sidestep this blame.

'You took his soul! He could have been a damned saint beforehand and it would not have mattered! It is _you_ who do not understand! You stupid, selfish people -you took everything from him! How long, I wonder, before he abandoned his own name for _Irenicus_ –the Shattered One! Gods, if it were not for all those people within your city who are suffering now for your folly, I would leave him to his revenge and wish him well in it!'

'But you will not,' said Elhan quietly.

Fritha drew a deep breath and turned her face away.

'No.'

'Then enough talk. The priests felt it early this morning; the Tree of Life is suffering. This means the palace as been breached and the queen taken-'

'Your Highness,' breathed Sovalidaas, 'you did not say.'

'To what end? It would have merely disheartened our already broken forces. My belief is that Irenicus is trying to complete what he long ago began. My sister, Queen Ellesime has a link to the Seladrine not unlike your own divinity, and with it a link to the great tree on which our city rests –he will use her as a channel to drain the power from the Tree of Life and resume his plan.'

'Which was?' asked Valygar

'To join the Seladrine.'

'He is mad!' cried Aerie, 'They would never allow it!'

The prince shrugged. 'No, and I wonder now if he does not follow this path merely to bring about our destruction. We have not much time, the Tree of Life is barely recovered from his last atrocity – if he manages to drain enough energy from the tree it will no longer be able to sustain us - the city will die.'

Fritha's eyes were hard. 'How long do we have?'

Elhan sighed and shook his head.

'It could already be too late.'

**…**

They gathered before the huge tree, the trunk a tower of living wood where once the city gates proudly opened upon the stairs to the elves' beloved city, the canopy above alive with fresh green leaves, the winter's cold unable to ravage such life. The few surviving battalions were summoned and briefed, the priests gathering in a ritual circle to one side, the Lanthorn in the centre as they made their prayers.

Fritha gazed up at the tree above her, the weak light finding a path through the leaves to stipple her face. Every moment since the asylum had been leading to this confrontation and now it had come she did not know how to feel. There was no longer any anger or desire for vengeance -there was hardly even a desire for her soul anymore. No, she would face Irenicus simply because she was fated to – perhaps as it had always been. And yes, it was unfair that it had had to be her, but then that was what life was like sometimes.

And she had been luckier than most. She had had a family of sorts and a place to live where she had been loved and educated in safety. And she had been blessed with opportunities too; had done and seen more than many did in their whole lives –and, what was more, she had been able to do some good along the way, too.

Perhaps, on balance, it was not all so unjust.

Fritha let her gaze drift to her companions, gathered nearby in a group of their own, Solaufein a pace or two apart from them as he checked his sword. He had spent so little time in their company she was not surprised he still felt an outsider and a fortnight with the elves had done little, it seemed, to integrate him into that group either –perhaps it would always be so for him up there.

As for the others, one of the elven clerics had expended a great deal of power and prayer to heal Anomen's arm, the knight making to test the limb as he hefted his mace back and forth. Aerie was having one last glance through her spellbook, Haer'Dalis closing to her side for a quiet exchange. Fritha could likely guess at what about and she let her gaze move on to Imoen, the girl looking unusually serious, Minsc stern as he lectured her on some points of battle, Jaheira busy fussing over the light suit of chain Elhan had gifted the young mage. And Valygar was at their back, bow aloft as he went through his customary routines and Fritha wondered if it wasn't exercise of mind rather than body -she doubted he would be using his bow much in the battle to come. It would be a close flight and likely bloody -she hoped they would survive it. She would have liked to ask them to remain there and let her go on alone with elves, but she knew they would refuse her.

Anomen glanced up to find her watching them, the man muttering something to Jaheira and Fritha waited as one by one they gathered before her, a certain sense of expectation to the air –soon there would be no time for words.

'I should probably say something inspiring here, something to fill you full of vigour and fight, but I have expended all my speeches on stage-shy actors and uncertain squires. So I will give you this: please try not to die and if perhaps we do not make it in time and Irenicus eludes us once more, know that, though I cannot claim to have always been happy this past year, it was an easier journey for travelling it with you.'

A shout behind her, a rapturous chorus of hope from the elves about them and she did not need to turn to know the Lanthorn had done its work. The trunk was sealed no longer, the great archway opening like a knot in the wood to reveal the coil of stairs within, Elhan already shouting his orders as the troops formed up.

Fritha drew a deep breath, summoning the last of her strength. The end was coming.

xxx

Jaheira stood on the edge of that vast circular platform, the size, at least, of a town piazza, her heart a sickening turmoil of awe and horror. The city was in ruins.

Her eyes swept along the web of walkways that spanned the branches, the wooden dwellings of the elves rising like thorns from the many platforms, everything intricately carved and stained down to the last tile -once in complete harmony with the surroundings, now bearing the pocks and scorches of recent fighting. Plumes of black smoke hung in the distance, rising through the canopy from unseen fires, while one of the walkways on the tier above had half-collapsed, though whether by accident or design she could not say. And everywhere about her were bodies, lost weapons and blood.

It was deathly silent; no trill of birdsong, nor even the clamour of distant fighting. That place was not a battlefield, it was a tomb.

Jaheira finally turned from it, Elhan giving orders to his five remaining captains, the remains of his army still amassing behind her, soldiers filing hurriedly from the stairwell.

'Hear me, my captains. Most of those who have survived are likely hidden within their homes or under siege in the temple –the building is defensible and our priests would know if that holy site had fallen. Company seven will remain here and hold the stairs. Companies four and six are to-'

The baleful baying of a horn somewhere on the tier above cut him off. Jaheira's head whipped up, her eyes instantly catching on the black-skinned figure that was darting along the walkway overhead: drow.

The young captain at his side already had an arrow nocked.

'Shall I-?'

The questioned was never finished, another horn answering the first, and then another and another. And then it came, the clatter and rattle building to the great grinding tramp of feet as from the surrounding buildings they stepped, bands of drow racing along the walkways to gather on the large platform to their east, the blazing dawn light seemingly no trouble for them – perhaps their goddess or some mage's blessing had cured them of their aversion, demons and other creatures either bribed or summoned into their service standing prominent in that sea of black. It crept like a plague towards them, a blight upon the tree itself; slowly enough to be wary, confident enough to come.

Elhan's face was set as he turned back to the captains.

'A battle here and we will never make the palace in time. Our plans have changed. The main body of our troops will face them here, we will push towards the temple and make it seem as though we hope to break the siege. If they believe this to be our only objective they should concentrate their forces upon us, allowing a small group to slip through unnoticed.' He turned from them, the captains returning to their troops to relay these orders as Elhan faced them. 'You, Fritha, must get to the palace and through it reach the heart of the tree; Irenicus will be there, as will my sister. You must hurry, Suldanessellar's hopes fade with every moment –soon the tree will be beyond recovery and this city and all those linked to the tree will die. General, take what is left of the second company and go with them, you _must_ reach the palace.'

Sovalidaas nodded gravely. 'Understood.'

Elhan turned back to what remained of the army assembled behind him, taking a flying leap to land upon the finely wrought railing next to them, sword aloft as he screamed the command.

'_For Suldanessellar!'_

The roar was deafening and it was matched by the horde opposite, both armies surging forward, Elhan at the elves' head as they met in clash of blades, spells roaring overhead and in the chaos no one noticed a small group of mercenaries and their half-dozen elven allies slip along the western walkway.

As soon as they were out of sight, they broke into a run, the elves leading the way along the empty walkways, past the broken barricades that had been placed between houses, the upper windows put through and scorched by magefire where sorcerers had covered the warriors at the blockade below, the posts still manned by the bodies of those who had given their lives in the defence of their city, the drow made to fight for every step towards its heart.

Sovalidaas was the consummate soldier; he saw the carnage, but it merely seemed to strengthen his resolve, the man running on to bring them finally to a halt on a wide circular platform, the benches and sculptures that had once lined the edge now broken, likely taken for some hasty barricade, the door of the large house behind them pillaged also, the high-arched doorway a yawning black hole into that empty home –what scenes of slaughter could lay within? The general ignored it all, a hand thrown to the northern walkway.

'Come, the palace is on the third tier in the crown of the tree, the-'

His voice died, the shadows of the doorway falling back, banished by the huge creature that was slowly emerging from the mouth, all flame and teeth, the unmistakable scent of brimstone tainting the air. A small group of drow warriors followed their demon thrall, one shouting back into the house, clearly calling for reinforcements.

Sovalidaas glanced to the elves about him –they knew what would be required of them. The general drew his long sword.

'We must remain. They cannot be allowed to inform their captains of our plans to reach the palace. Go, take the walkway there and get to the stairs.'

'But you'll never hold them,' breathed Aerie. Sovalidaas did not look back to her, eyes fixed on the amassing force before them.

'The city is dying -just go!'

Solaufein slowly drew his sword and flicked back his hat an inch. 'I will stay.'

Jaheira glanced to Minsc, some silent understanding passing between the two warriors.

'You heard the general,' she snapped, hefting her staff, Minsc at her side and drawing his greatsword, 'Go on! We will catch up to you!'

A tense pause, where many words were spoken by the silence and they were gone, racing on once more, Minsc's battle cry fading to an indistinct roar as the two enemies met in a clash of swords. Imoen tore after the others, a stitch already screaming in her side. Ahead of her, another huge trunk opened on the stairwell within, Fritha and Valygar already there and stepping over the remnants of another makeshift barricade, the furniture blood-spattered and charred, all that was left of one final vain defence of the upper levels.

Up and up they climbed, Fritha passing three similarly barricaded exits until they emerged, at last, the palace before them, rising at the far end of the long wide walkway right in the heart of the canopy, a huge structure of spires and minarets that seemed to have grown from the tree itself. The others were already away, Imoen tearing from the mouth of the stairwell, only to watch as one by one they skidded to a halt before her, transfixed by the shadow that swooped over them. Her head whipped up, and Imoen heard herself gasp.

'Oh, gods…'

It was as though they were frozen, everyone stopped to watch as the huge green dragon dived low to alight on the walkway opposite, poisonous yellow eyes scanning over them as it let out a satisfied roar. Valygar recovered first.

'Go, Fritha,' he commanded, eyes still on the creature as he drew his katana, Haer'Dalis at his side and doing the same with his own twin blades. Imoen swallowed, trying not to look at her friend as she fell back next to Aerie and began to summon her magics.

'Go on!' he shouted again, sparing her the briefest glance, 'Anomen, go with her –go now; free the queen, before it is too late!'

Scarcely a chance to catch his breath and they were away again, and Anomen could feel the judder through his legs as the dragon landed heavily on the walkway behind them, its roar barely audible over the explosion of spells. Anomen blinked the sweat from his eyes, his limbs screaming in protest to every step, the heavy greaves dragging at his legs

Fritha was just ahead of him, the girl racing tirelessly towards their goal, eyes narrowed and face set. The palace gates were twisted and broken, hanging limply from the ornate wooden archway, a scattering of drow on guard in the courtyard beyond. The first did not even manage to draw his blade, the girl slaying him as she flew past to kill another with the same swing, Anomen guarding her back against a third as he pounded after her. Across the courtyard and through the palace doors, the few drow left already screaming for reinforcements as they made their pursuit.

He could not tell how she knew the way, the girl racing through the maze of corridors and stairs, ever deeper, ever downward, until at last they reached it. The chamber was circular, both ceiling and floor an ornate wooden lattice, large holes cut in the walls to let the very branches of the tree itself meander their way through, the leaves dappled with pale sunlight. A stone pool was set in the corner, though the water had been long since drained, a flight of wooden stairs coiling away from them.

'He is down there?' gasped Anomen. Fritha nodded, whirling back at the shouts behind them, the rattle of armoured feet clattering along the corridor outside.

'Go, Fritha, I will hold them here.'

She stared back at him, just as she had in his empty kitchen, eyes alive and burning within.

'Fritha, go! There is no time!'

And, for an instant, her mouth was on his, salty with sweat, his beard scraping roughly against her cheek in the fierceness of it, and then she was gone, bounding down the steps three at a time and in such haste she could have been falling away from him. Anomen turned back to the doorway and hefted his mace.

**…**

She flew down the stairs, down the length she had climbed up to the palace and that distance again, the coiling stairwell opened in blue by her werelight until at last she was out and, for a moment, even with everything that rested upon her, all she could do was stand and stare.

The tree was huge. In reality, it was the same tree that housed the city above, but up there it was harder to see, with its buildings and walkways to lay claim to the eye. Down here, however…

It stretched off before her, an endless sprawl of twisting branches in the half-light, great limbs as thick as trunks branching out and dividing over and over, narrowing to the thinnest switch, the leaves that covered them moving in the slight breeze as though the very air was alive, and if she looked hard enough she could see the city she had left so far above her.

Her hunger knew the way, Fritha racing across the branches, leaping gaps without pause to judge distance or speed, her boots rasping on the rough bark. She was growing closer now, the essence writhing in its excitement and about her she could see the signs, the once green leaves beginning to brown and curl; the Tree of Life was dying.

'You there -I can hear your passage! Help me!' shrieked a voice, shrill in its panic, Fritha ducking a low branch to finally see her, a petite blonde elf, her golden hair almost longer than she was and spilling about her as she knelt within a tall cage of light, each bar springing from the ring of runes encircling her knees, the pinnacle set with a crystal which pulsed with a sickly green glow. 'Please, you must help me, you-' the queen stopped, looking surprised, 'You are…'

'Fritha, the source,' she supplied, 'You are Ellesime, the conduit.'

The woman nodded, already struggling to her feet. 'Quickly, you must free me; the tree dies with every moment!'

'Any suggestions?'

_You could disrupt the runes; drain their power into another –try siphon_

'I wasn't talking to you,' Fritha snapped, sending Ellesime an expectant glare, 'Well?'

'Do you have knowledge of the runes? You can transfer the energy, if you draw out the one for _siphon_. Here, I can show-'

_Told you_

'Yes, all right.'

A moment crouched and scratching it in the living wood with her dagger, before a touch ignited the magics, the cage about the queen slowly fading to let the crystal drop and bounce over the edge of the bough, crashing through the foliage beneath to disappear. Ellesime was at her side in an instant, her noble bearing restored with her freedom.

'Oh, thank the gods, the tree is saved! But you are alone?'

'The city is overrun. My companions bought my passage here.'

The woman nodded deeply. 'Their bravery is noted, as is yours, though your task is not over yet. Much of my magics have been drained by Irenicus -I fear I will be of little use to you for now, but he is still a danger to the tree and this city while he lives. I once thought him misguided, but it seems his evil knows no bounds.'

'It is so, but we cannot blame him for that -I blame _you_.'

Ellesime flushed. 'I? You have heard the tale from Elhan… Believe me, none is more ashamed of this folly than I.'

'_Ashamed?_'

'And regretful,' the woman added hastily, 'What has happened to you-'

'I'm not even talking about _me!' _Fritha shrieked, 'Do you have any idea how many lives this has destroyed? Khalid and Dynaheir are _dead_, but it does not stop there. Countless thieves killed in that guildwar, or, worse still, taken to be part of his experiments; a whole asylum's worth of inmates lie murdered in their cells; the men and women lost fighting to get back that damn lantern, and now here, your own people slaughtered in their city. So many dead and for what? So you could have your revenge!'

'It was not like that!' Ellesime resisted, 'I-'

But Fritha would not let her finish. 'No? You knew the danger he presented –he had brought this entire city to the brink of death!'

'I know this! And the crime called for execution, but I could not bear to. We showed mercy-'

'You took his _soul!_ You don't understand what it is like, the torture of losing yourself day by day!' Fritha gravely shook her head. 'And you dare speak of mercy. _Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned._ I believe you when you say you could not stand to kill him, but he was your love, his betrayal hurt you personally, and only love could be twisted to something so cruel. I understand it, but I cannot condone it; you are a queen, you should be above such things.'

Ellesime was shaking her head, her expression defiant, though she made no further word in her defence. Fritha sighed.

'Stay here; the palace is crawling with drow –if I fall to Irenicus we are all dead anyway.'

The elf said nothing and Fritha walked on. Her feet knew the way and there was little rush now, the essence leading her unwaveringly to the heart of the tree –once the seat of his triumph, now the site of his ruin.

He was shorter than she had remembered him, only half a head higher than herself, wearing the loose breeches and lightly armoured harness he never seemed to be without. His back was to her, the man staring out across the twisting verdancy of the tree, his bared arms and bald head bearing the raised white welts of countless scars, a mirror to her now, scarred and bloodied from this battle and the many before. This was what it did to you, demanded of you –life without a soul could not be lived, it had to be forged through.

'Irenicus.'

He did not turn.

'I knew you would come, Fritha.'

'You gave me little choice.'

She could hear the weary amusement in his voice –how like her own it sounded.

'You did not come for your soul… you did not even come for vengeance. You came to save them -this city, your companions.' He finally turned to her, his face wearing a look of astounding sadness. 'I know this because your soul is full of mercy.'

He sighed deeply, reaching out to pluck a withered leaf from the branch above, gazing at it a moment in the centre of one sallow, scarred hand, before he let it fall, the breeze taking it away into the canopy.

'The soul is a strange thing. So much had been lost to me in those years without one. I clung at first to my feelings, then to the memories of them, but even they left me in the end and all I had was my despair, my hatred of those who would so torture me, and my power. And then your soul was within. All those memories returned to me, and with them my anger only grew. I had _loved_ her, her and this city both, served them for _centuries,_ and _this_ was how I was to be repaid? My thirst for vengeance grew tenfold, but lately…' He trailed off, letting his eyes drift about them. 'Being back here, within the city, I can recall other feelings… the good I once did here, the pride I took in serving my people. I look now on what I have become, on what I have done to get here and my soul… _your_ soul… your tender, merciful soul… it weeps.'

Fritha swallowed dryly. 'It is not too late to stop this…'

The mage just shook his head.

'It is. The evils I have committed now, the blood I have spilt -it would be as much effort to wade back as it would to go on. There are a thousand steps to Hell. Each one so shallow you bare notice your path downward –it is only when you look back that you see how far you have descended. My experiments began as an act of love. The memory of her was fading each day; it was all I had left and I only wanted to staunch the wound. I began on animals, but how can their souls be compared? I would summon lesser creatures to work on, justified it to myself as my experiments moved on to people, those foolish enough to stumble too close to my stronghold. By the time I was searching for subjects, I no longer cared for those memories lost, all I wanted was vengeance on the city that had destroyed me –vengeance on _her_. Until, at last, the technique was perfected and I found you.'

'But why me? Why not some other Bhaalspawn?'

Irenicus gave a wild laugh. 'Oh, but the Fates are cruel, godchild! It _was_ to be someone else. How do you think I knew you were in Baldur's Gate? I did not. No, it was that brute, Sarevok who had first drawn my eye. I saw the taint on him immediately, so content he was to drown the Sword Coast in blood. Such hateful power he held! His soul would have been worth all I had strived for… But then he fell. And who could cut so bright a thread, but another godchild?'

Fritha blinked, seeing her that instant behind her eyes, the merry girl she had once been.

'Me…'

Irenicus nodded slowly. 'There are others you know. Bhaal did disperse his essence, but he did not do so evenly. For some it is merely a stain, a dark blot on their soul, never to even be discovered. Others are as Sarevok, driven by lusts beyond their desire, anger beyond their hate. They move even now, gathering power –the strongest of your kind.'

He smiled down at her; it looked almost proud.

'But how much stronger is the one who does not even heed her blood, but who bends it to her will? I knew when I first saw you, the day after midsummer, walking along that street with your sister, bright and happy in your victory even with the dark seed you carried within you, and I knew then that yours was the soul that would sustain me for ten thousand years. And how perfect that another travelled with you for my sister; a pair of siblings to be that final experiment and ensure the procedure was ready.'

Fritha snorted 'Such fraternal love; do you even care she is dead?'

'If Bodhi had killed you in the asylum when I had ordered it, we would not even be in this circumstance!'

'No,' Fritha conceded, 'I suppose not. So how is this to end, Irenicus? You know not both of us can survive this now.'

The mage lifted his chin, defiant of her pronouncement.

'Your soul is merciful, but my will is still my own. I have made my decision and this city will _fall!' _He laughed as she raised her weapon. 'So you are going to struggle on, even to the last? You owe me much, godchild, I will admit, but I have _everything_ still to fight for -what of you? Is there anything left?'

Fritha nodded, the essence purring in her stomach, the voice whispering at her ear.

'Oh, yes and _we_ will be your end.'

Her sword hit the spell midair, her own magics surging along the blade in an explosion of blue magefire, the girl dodging the blast to follow through with a swing that took first blood. Irenicus spared a glance for his bleeding arm, his look astounded; the essence roared.

Fritha ducked his next, forcing him to block as she lunged for his exposed stomach. She was no longer at war, her will and instinct and essence all one as they fought for his end, the essence surging through every sweep and dodge, the instinct screaming instructions as they fought.

…_He's calling a temporal enchantment- rune of impediment, rune of impediment! …Your leg is wounded –take your weight from it –lead in with your left…_

She danced to the side, her injured leg slowing her just enough to catch the edge of the blast across her shoulder, the flesh searing, her scream and battle cry as one as she charged. Irenicus's next spell was already building, a glowing sphere of energy between his palms –this would be it.

They met at the moment of release, sword thrust forward as the spell exploded over her. Irenicus stopped, a look of vague surprise on his face as he gazed down at the hilt still sticking from his chest, the blade slipping from him as he keeled over backwards.

Fritha just watched him fall; the glassy void of his eyes told her he was no more and she felt herself swaying. Everything hurt, her arms a mess of burns and blood, chest aching dully where the spell had hit, her mouth wet and cloy with a coppery sweetness. She stumbled forward and dropped to her knees, leaning heavily on her sword before that, too, clattered to the ground. She'd been surviving those last few days on will alone and now…

It was over.

_No, petal, please, my lamb, my pet, just hold on. They will find you soon, just hold on…_

The world around her was darkening, a soft numbness washing through her limbs as she collapsed next to him. Guilt tugged at the edge of her senses, trying to draw her back to the world, but it was not enough. The relief of an ending, even this one, was all she craved, and Fritha slipped quietly into death.


	97. A Hell of her making

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Baldur's Gate', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

**A Hell of her making**

Fritha awoke, aching muscles instantly tensing as the cold wind blasted over her. The girl struggled to sit, fighting through the mess of hair that was being whipped about her face to take in not the Hells, or even the Fugue Plane, but a blasted wilderness of smooth grey chequered tiles. The floor, which would not have looked out of place in a ballroom, stretched off about her, un-broken and featureless in every direction, to meet the sky on the distant horizon, a sick boiling green that swirled and moved like oil in water.

Her sword was gone, as was her bag and armour, the girl without even a cloak to pull about her against the chill. Perhaps this was it for her. A person who had done such things as she – perhaps this was to be her hereafter. A sound enough theory, though it did not explain the presence of the others.

She let her eyes drift over them, the seven bodies that lay unconscious about her, not breathing, and she held her breath for a quarter hour before she convinced herself that this was not a problem. Her friends were dead… and so was she.

They were beginning to stir, and Fritha watched as one by one they sat, each doing exactly as she had, noticing first her, but not quite managing a greeting before their attention was pulled to their surroundings. Then they would turn back to her, questions burning in their eyes, though she would just shake her head and gesture to the next stirring body until all were awake and sitting about her.

'Where are we?' came Imoen, gazing about with a mix of awe and disbelief. 'The last thing I remember was that blast of fire and the feeling of my stomach dropping.'

Valygar shrugged, looking uncomfortable in his skin.

'Aerie's spell killed the dragon, but the creature destroyed the walkway in its end. I presume we died in the fall.'

'Minsc died first in our company,' offered Jaheira, the man himself nodding proudly, 'taking with him the demon that had already killed half our own group. For me, I did not even see the blade, though I felt its sting sure enough.'

'And Solaufein?' asked Aerie, noticing the drow was not among them. The druid shrugged.

'Still fighting when I fell -the drow were on the losing side by then, perhaps he survived.'

'So we all fell…' the elf sighed, looking for a moment sad when a sudden panic lit her face, 'then Irenicus-!'

'Is dead,' finished Fritha, 'He died moments before I did.'

'Do you think he could be here as well?' asked Anomen, looking pale and ghostlike -a thought that made her want to laugh, though she merely shrugged.

'I can make a guess as to why I would be here, without my soul and everything, but the rest of you…'

Minsc was nodding wisely. 'Minsc and Boo felt it, the welcoming call of our many ancestors who have died in glorious battle. We were to ascend to them and join the Great Hunt. But then we felt a tugging and we realised our work by your side was not yet over. You called and we answered.'

A round of nods, the others had all felt the same it seemed. Fritha shook her head.

'I… I am sorry, if I had known-'

'We would have come in any case,' said Anomen.

'So, you didn't get your soul back then,' offered Imoen with another wary glance to their surroundings.

'I don't think so; perhaps I died before it could happen. Perhaps it was never going to.'

'Do not worry,' assured Jaheira firmly, 'if we were all able to join you here, then there must be a reason for it. We still are together and together we will face whatever comes.'

'Well,' said Imoen, clapping her hands together, 'are we just going to sit here and wait for it?'

Fritha nodded. 'Imoen, is right-'

'I usually am.'

'We should split up. Everyone pair off and spread out -we can meet back here in a quarter hour.' Fritha sighed, gazing about the blasted wilderness. 'I would warn you to be careful, but now we're all dead, it would seem rather redundant.'

Imoen sent a tentative smile to the man at her side as, about her, the others rose and began to move off.

'You with me, Minsc?'

The ranger nodded, reaching down a large hand to help her to her feet.

'So,' she continued, scanning the distant horizon, 'this way then?'

She started forward, the girl half glancing back to check he was following and Imoen just stifled her cry of surprise, jolted by the realisation she was suddenly alone.

'Minsc?' she shouted, casting frantically about her, 'Min- ah! Fritha!' she cried, whipping back to find the girl stood impassively behind her, 'Don't do that! Gods, you scared the life out of me!'

'Sorry.'

'Did you see where Minsc and the others went? I only took a step-'

'The space here is warped,' the girl provided promptly, 'I told him I'd go with you when you disappeared. He went with Jaheira.'

'Oh,' said Imoen shortly, half wondering from where these insights came as they fell into step, 'Well, good, because we haven't had a chance to talk for a while, what with Bodhi taking Anomen and everything that followed.'

Fritha snorted dully. 'And _what_ would you have us talk about?'

'Well, what we're going to do. I mean, like Jaheira said: we're here, it has to be a good sign. We just need to find someway back.'

'Yes,' the girl sighed, 'I suppose you still have everything to lose now you've got your soul back. Imoen's in trouble, and suddenly she's _desperate_ to pitch in and help.'

'_What?'_

'But it's always been like that, hasn't it?' Fritha continued matter-of-factly, a cruel counter to Imoen's rising emotions, 'You've always been very good at putting yourself first. Like back in Candlekeep -it was always your games, your rules, your way. And you couldn't _wait_ to drop me when something more interesting came along –or some_one_.' She shook her head, smiling absently. 'It was so nice to meet Aerie and Nalia and everyone, and find out what it was like to have _real_ friends. What is it?' Fritha asked, seeming puzzled by her injured expression. 'Oh come on, Imoen, let's face it, we never would have been friends if not for the fact we were forced together by our circumstances.'

Imoen shook her head, the lump in her throat making it painful to speak.

'Fritha, why- why are you saying these things?'

**…**

'Because they are the truth, brother,' she cried, Moira's pale face, tear-streaked and wretched as she gazed up at him, Anomen's heart torn by the sight. He had lost Valygar almost the instant he had stepped out from their group, the knight not alone for long and startled to find himself suddenly before the spirit of his beloved sister.

'Moira,' he entreated, desperate to alleviate the guilt churning within, 'I understand that I left you alone with Father after Mother died, but you assured me it was what you wanted! You told me to return to the seminary.'

The girl hiccupped a bitter laugh.

'It that how you recall it? I remember a girl in mourning tell a brother who was clearly so eager to leave he should follow his heart, the tears from the funeral still fresh on her face! And leave you did. But even after you entered the Order, you still had no time for me. I was left to care for Father while you pursued your precious knighthood! You knew of my misery -you always knew and merely pretended not to realise! You left me to die!'

**…**

Haer'Dalis stepped back, the words screamed with all the hatred of the wronged, his hands raised as he tried to calm the weeping girl before him.

'Kaerid, we spoke often of Equis –you said you would not leave him!'

'So you just abandoned me to my misery?' Kaerid sobbed, the long curtain of dark hair thrown back as she screeched the truths at him. '_You were my only friend!_'

'But I did not leave,' he pleaded, 'My mother died –there were no money for lessons after that.'

'And it took coin to visit me?' she sneered wetly, 'You could have come to the school or even my home. But you did not come, because you did not care! You have never cared for anyone but yourself!'

'No, that is not so!'

**…**

'Oh, I think it is,' the gnome chuckled unpleasantly, 'You knew they all laughed at me, and you did nothing!'

'Kalah, it wasn't like that!' Aerie cried, 'I was so shy back then, I did not mean-'

'_Lies!_' he shrieked, 'You watched as they laughed, just as the others did. But perhaps you could see I was drawing close to my retribution. You guessed what I had planned and realised in that you could have your revenge too.

'No!'

'To get back at all those who had laughed at you, taunted you as you wept in that cage!'

**…**

'No, good Dynaheir, Boo says-'

'_Boo says!_' the witch shrieked, fine face screwed up in her contempt, 'Ever with that rodent. Does it speak of thy failure, Minsc? Mine sisters in the Wychlaran warned me, told me thou wast too addled to serve me as guardian, but I vouched for thee –I took thee on my Dajemma and thou killed me!'

**…**

'You killed yourself, Dermin!' Jaheira retorted angrily, 'We gave you a choice and you chose to fight us!'

The old man gave a bark of laughter.

'And what did you see in my eyes as you drove the blade in to my chest? A reflection of your victory?'

The druid shook her head. 'I saw an old friend who had been lost to beliefs that blood is stronger than will.'

'And I have been proved wrong since, have I?' Dermin crowed, 'Is Fritha still the model Bhaalspawn?' He gave another derisive laugh. 'You murdered me, betrayed your Harper brothers and you have _doomed_ the whole of Toril for it!'

**…**

Valygar dipped his face, anything to avoid the piercing dark eyes of the woman before him.

'I see it now, Mother, I was wrong. At the time I believed you mad -corrupted beyond redemption.'

'And I suppose your attitude is much changed thanks to this admission?' she snapped, haughtily shaking back the mane of braided tresses in her disgust. 'I know it is not so! Even now you would doom our family to end all for your unfounded fear of magic!'

'It is a curse, mother!'

'_You_ are the curse!' she shouted back, 'Oh, why had we only one child? Why were we damned with you?'

'Mother, please!'

'_Dare_ you use that title for me? You murdered me, just as you murdered your father and your hands will _never_ be free of that stain!'

**…**

Fritha walked on. There had been a slight flutter of alarm when she had turned to find Jaheira gone, but she could not feel properly afraid there. She looked up, the churning sky so discordant and yet somehow familiar, as though she had seen this place many times before.

'Fritha…'

She whipped back, the voice so familiar she did not even need to see the face. And there he was, just standing before her with the same woolly smile, the plain, grey robes of Candlekeep swathing his tall frame –as though he had never left.

'Gorion?'

The smile broadened at the address, his worn blue eyes sparkling. 'Fritha, my child.'

He stepped forward, his arms held wide ready to embrace her. Fritha's fist came out of nowhere.

'_Sod off!_' she snapped, at the old man now sprawled before her, 'You're no more Gorion than I am the Tooth Mouse, so stop wasting both our time and tell me why I'm here!'

Gorion's face twisted with a sneer and he called her a word she doubted her foster father even knew, before he faded into smoke and disappeared all together.

'_Hells Teeth!_'

She whirled at the booming laughter, nearly staggering back a step at the sight that met her. It was Sarevok, but not as she had known him. No longer the raven-haired, striking youth who had once held the Sword Coast in his grip -he looked much older now, as though there were suddenly decades between them, his hair hanging to his collar, shaggy and white -with stress or age, she could not tell. He had no armour, no sword –just the man walking slowly towards her, smiling grimly.

'You always were stronger than I ever realised; it is good to see others can make the same mistakes. How did you know it was not your father?'

Fritha frowned, but answered anyway. 'Because there is no way Gorion has been confined _here_ and I don't imagine the dead can just wander about the afterlife as they choose -which begs the question as to why _you_ are here as well.'

The man just shrugged.

'I am no shade, at least not in the way he was, and as for why I am here, well, I came because you summoned me, sister.'

He gestured to the ground at their feet and Fritha dropped to sit crossed-legged next to him, the huge man giving an amused sigh.

'It is ironic, is it not? I would have sacrificed anything -family, friends, the whole of the Sword Coast- in order to take up Bhaal's legacy, but it is you who would shun it, who is further on than all of us.'

'What is this place?'

'A fragment of our father's own domain, summoned and shaped by your mind.'

But Fritha was shaking her head. 'I did not shape anything – I had not the chance.'

Sarevok grinned that familiar predatory smile, one large finger tapping his temple for emphasis.

'Not your conscious mind, sister, but your unconscious one, the one that dreams of blood and death. It pulled you here even as the very fabric of the universe dithered over what to do with you: the soulless godchild. This place is its last chance –_your_ last chance. Your soul is here as well, waiting to be claimed, but there is still one remaining who can steal it from you.'

'Irenicus is here?'

'Yes, he is being tested as your companions are -as you would have been had you not seen through the ruse. This place is yours, but it is our father's, too, and torment was his tool –all here will be tested and judged. They are pained, can you not feel them?'

Fritha closed her eyes. She could feel them –her friends- their pain and sorrow echoing about her mind. But she could feel their strength, too. Perhaps this was what was needed - everyone had to face their demons at some point.

'So why are _you_ here?'

Sarevok shrugged again, broad shoulders shifting.

'I could not say. Perhaps a part of you knew I would hold these insights. I studied much of our Father before my end, and I am now _well_ acquainted with the Abyss.'

Something behind those shrewd, grey eyes seemed to darken a moment, but then Sarevok blinked and it was gone. Fritha sighed.

'So Irenicus is being tested and then what? We fight and I will win back my soul? What does it matter? My body is dead.'

'Your body is nothing!' he burst out, seemingly angered by her resignation. 'You are not dead yet, and priests may perform such miracles of the flesh every day! It is your soul that will be your salvation -the others' too- if you choose to fight for it!'

'Then there is still a chance?' she pressed urgently.

Sarevok sent her an enigmatic smile. 'There is always a chance, sister, always…'

His voice faded with his form and she was alone once more in the howling winds. Fritha heaved herself upright, a new sense of purpose filling her as she set a point upon the distant horizon and began to walk. It began at first as a dark spot on the horizon that grew larger and longer with every step. His back was to her, though his shoulders seemed somehow hunched and he did not hear her approach, her footfalls masked by the roaring winds.

'Hello, Joneleth.'

He whirled at her voice, clearly startled though he straightened instantly when he saw it was her, proud and defiant. But Fritha could see the haunted look to his dark green eyes; he had faced trials, too, and she wondered briefly who he had seen. His sister perhaps? Someone else?

'Fritha,' he greeted, a cold smile that seemed more front than feeling pulling at his mouth, 'it seems our battle is not yet won and we are brought together again. I warn you now, I do _not_ intend to lose this time. You will remain here in this Hell, and I will finally claim your soul as my _own!_'

'Hell?' Fritha repeated, 'This is no layer of the Abyss –as _you_ will soon learn firsthand. You shrink from this place, because it is not you… it is me. I have looked into the depths of my soul, Irenicus, and I am not afraid -can you say the same?'

His face twisted with an angry sneer.

'You will _fall!_'

The spell was already building between his palms, Fritha moving on instinct to draw the sword that was no longer there, a desperate surge of panic seeming to fuel it as, within, she felt the essence stir. There was nothing for it, and Fritha felt a strange peace washing through her as she surrendered, even her scream seeming far away as bones cracked and muscles lengthened, and her last conscious thought was one of amusement; Irenicus's face, far below her and lit by the green glow of his spell, a mask of horror as he gazed up at what she had become.

As man or beast, the fight was hard. Irenicus battled as one who had everything to lose, spell after spell wracking her form, what part of her that was still there recoiling at the reek of burning tissue, the pain screaming through her body even as the essence pressed on, reaping flesh with claw and teeth.

Even now, as he teetered on the brink, Irenicus clung to life, his battered body working to summon his magics, one arm hanging limp and bloody by his side. Fritha could feel her own body flagging -even this monster's form could not take the punishment he had dealt it, her head heavy on its long neck and the blood in her mouth was not all his.

Irenicus's eyes were locked on hers, too full of hatred to hold any fear as he slowly backed from her. His magic was building; it was now or never. One last surge of will was all it took and she watched as a great clawed hand swept out. A hoarse scream, a spray of blood and the world faded to forgiving darkness.

**…**

Fritha's eyes snapped open, taking in the pearlescent blur of the high vaulted ceiling as her lungs, unused for days, drew in a great gasping breath.

She was _alive_.


	98. And the dance goes on

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Baldur's Gate', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them. I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

_Author's note: Well, there isn't really much to say now, is there? Sincere thanks to everyone who left any comments over the course of the story, and to my Betas for sticking with me for so long and providing such invaluable help and feedback. _

– Blackcross & Taylor

**And the dance goes on…**

Three days. That was apparently how long they had lain there in the temple, their bodies sustained by prayers and spells until, at last, they had awoken.

A tenday had passed since then, and they had shared the tale many times, describing to the elves what had occurred in the dreamscape, while they were told how the city, once freed from Irenicus's magics, was finally purged of its invaders.

How the Queen had used what little power she had left to transport herself to the temple, enacting a ritual to beseech the Seladrine for aid. How her own father, Rillifane, had sent an avatar to turn the battle outside the temple, Elhan and his army bolstered by this ally to finally overcome their enemies and send the remaining drow forces screaming to the Abyss.

Then had come the time for mourning, and but a day after they had left the temple, Anomen was standing with the others on the great platform before the building once more, breathing in the incense choked air, the sky black from the many pyres as the funeral for all those whose lives had been lost was held. The whole city was silent in remembrance and the very leaves of that great tree seemed out numbered by the scores of black ribbons that had been tied upon the branches.

The days for grief were over now though, the tree an unmarred field of green once more as the ribbons were removed and reconstruction of the city was, at last, begun. And the Queen was leading by example, it seemed. There was to be a celebration held at the palace tonight, this gathering mirrored by small ones about the city, all to rejoice in the city's survival and continuation of the Tree of Life.

Anomen moved along the corridor, his feet seeming impossibly loud on the polished wooden floor, a gaggle of young maids only heightening the sensation as they glided past him with noiseless, mincing steps. Suldanessellar was beautiful and the elves were generous hosts, but he could not shake the feeling he did not belong there -everything and everyone in that place seeming to serve to remind him so, and he felt large and clumsy when compared to his surroundings. They had been staying at the palace since they had awoken, the Queen giving them quarters in the southern wing which included their own garden and, barring the servants, they had been left to their own devices –the woman clearly occupied with the restoration of her city.

Anomen felt a sudden weight upon his heart. If only other things were so easily rebuilt. He had not seen Fritha for the last two days –not so unusual, at least, not of late, but he could not help but worry for her. He had promised himself that he would just be patient- with the celebrations tonight, she would be bound to make an appearance, but noon had come and another meal sat about the table with the others, her chair so painfully vacant, had broken his resolve. Two hours pacing in his room and he had finally given in.

It was warm outside, the early spring bringing the usual squally mix of sunshine and rains as Ches approached. The gardens were still wet from the last shower, the raised beds of yet-to-bloom flowers sparkling with the droplets in the watery sunshine and in this brilliance they were sitting upon the carved wooden benches, Imoen cloaked in a faded towel, a dish resting in her lap and shoes off, while Aerie stood behind, a paint brush in hand as she applied the thick fuchsia paste to the good inch or so of Imoen's mousey roots. Haer'Dalis was upon the bench next to them, laid out and idly strumming the lyre resting on his chest, the three watched by a pair of curious maids who were finding their company far more interesting than the plants they had likely been sent out to prune, the girls nudging each other as they silently fought about who would come over first.

'Hey Anomen,' called Imoen brightly as she noticed him, the girl sending him a friendly wave and nearly upsetting the bowl in the process, 'you've come to join us?'

'No, my lady, I was actually looking for Fritha.'

The smile faded for but an instant.

'Ah, sorry, mate, haven't seen her all day, but I imagine she'll be about later-Ooo, I'm so excited,' Imoen squealed, squirming where she sat and flecking the towel at her shoulders with pink, Aerie hurrying back a step.

'Imoen, sit still, you're getting dye everywhere.'

On the other bench, Haer'Dalis had heaved himself upright, patting the space next to him with a friendly smile.

'Come and join us, Anomen, we were just speaking of the distant wonders of Sigil.'

'You plan to return there soon?' Anomen asked, making no move toward the proffered seat. Haer'Dalis shook his head.

'No, not so soon. We have no plans, we will merely leave when the time is right, and it is pleasant here –there is no need to hasten from it.'

He glanced back to send the two maids a wink, the pair giggling shrilly, Anomen unable to help a smile as Aerie just rolled her eyes at him and continued with her painting, Imoen drawing a dull sigh.

'Wish I could go to Sigil.'

'Well then, come with us, my robin -the Cage is a place above any you have visited before.'

But Imoen could not be tempted. 'Nah, I'll find my way there one day, but now I'm just going to stay here for a bit and find my feet again –it seems like I haven't stopped since _last_ spring. Anyway,' the girl continued, physically shaking herself and freckling the towel with more pink as she returned her attention to him, 'I haven't seen Fritha today, Anomen, but she's usually up before the dawn and the only other two mad enough to join her in that are Valygar and Jaheira -perhaps they saw her.' A pause, the girl's fine green eyes softening, perhaps giving a glimpse at some of her own sorrows at this distance as she offered quietly, 'She _is_ getting better, you know… she just needs some time.'

Anomen could make no comment, merely dipped his head in a quick bow.

'Thank you, my lady.'

**…**

Valygar nodded in thanks as he received the flask from Minsc, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand to tip the canteen back for a long, cool draft. They had been practising since just after high sun, sometimes sparring, greatsword against katana, other times just moving through the various routines they had both learnt long ago by heart on the wide platform they had found a few days before, the place rarely visited by any other and high enough in the tree to lend a cool breeze, though even then the heat was intense and breaks were frequent.

He watched as Minsc returned to his sword, hefting it into a hanging guard to continue his practise. It was good to be training again, to feel the tension in his muscles, ready to respond to his slightest thought, the man losing himself in the rhythm of his exertions, at least for a while.

Pleasant as the elven city was, his place was not there and his thoughts dwelled more often than not upon the city he had left. He would return to Athkatla soon, ensure his estate was in order, and then… he did not know. The life he had known was dead, something he had realised ever since the massacre in the Troll Mountains, though with the few months afterwards spent searching for Lavok and then hiding from the Wizards, he had only just come to face the truth that without his old company, his life was rather empty.

Valygar had decided after Lavok's death that his family was to end with him, but the idea he was to be last of the Corthalas had finally sunk in. He had once believe he owed it to the world to put an end to the curse of his blood, but lately he had come to wonder that perhaps he owed his family as well. That if he was to be the last of that line, he should leave the name of Corthala such a heritage in deeds that could at least sustain them as well as any heir. As an idea it was a disturbing one, but he was understanding more and more that it was the thoughts you did not want to dwell on that you likely should. And for a man who killed his own mother and ended any hopes of continuing the line, perhaps this would be the only worthy penance.

The booming voice at his side broke through his reverie.

'Ho, young Anomen, you come to join us in practise, yes?'

Valygar turned in time to see Anomen dip his head in apologetic refusal, the man waiting until he had closed to them to make his excuses.

'Perhaps later, Minsc, I was looking for Fritha – Imoen said you might have spoken to her this morning.'

Valygar shook his head. 'I am sorry, I did not. I slept later than I had wished to this morning. But perhaps Jaheira did –she often rises early.'

But Minsc was frowning at this, greatsword resting casually over one shoulder, his tone stern though not unkind as he eyed the knight.

'Young Fritha spends much time alone, and we are all worried, but she is strong and wise in herself. Like the great warriors who return from mighty battles having lost themselves in the bloodshed and much more besides, they must go on _Hevdavk_ and walk alone in the icelands to find again their peace. She will return to us, Anomen, until then, she must be left in solitude.'

Anomen said nothing, Valygar letting the silence hang upon them a moment before passing the flask to Minsc with a sigh.

'Minsc was telling me he plans to leave for Rashemen soon.'

'Truly?'

'It is so,' confirmed Minsc gravely, 'My witch is avenged and my judgement must be faced.'

Valygar joined the man in a nod, turning to Anomen to add, 'I, too, must make plans to return to Athkatla. What of you, Anomen -will not the Order be expecting your arrival?'

The knight did not flush, though he could not seem to meet his eye as he answered mildly, 'I sent a letter informing them of my whereabouts- they will no doubt send word if they have need of me.'

'No doubt,' nodded Valygar. He could tell the man did not want to leave there, at least not without certain things being settled.

'Well,' Anomen continued briskly, the conversation clearly raising for him matters he would have rather forgotten, 'I will leave you both to your practise.'

**…**

Jaheira leaned back against the smooth curve of the bough, the branch matching the contours of her back as though they had been made to fit. The air was cooler up there, the breeze stirring the leaves about her as she sat in her favourite fork between two slender branches, right in the crown of the tree, the platform where she had climbed up from, but a small disk of green-stained wood below her.

In the west, the sun was sinking –she would have to leave for that celebration of Ellesime's soon, but she herself had little to do, perhaps another half hour there would make no difference.

The spring was coming, the surrounding forests bursting in to life, her long walks taking her under budding trees and through carpets of crocuses. It was a time of new beginnings and in that atmosphere is was natural to think on where her life was to take her now. Perhaps she could go and visit Cernd, if only to see how he was managing. And Trademeet was a hub of roads and rivers both –a place where the Harpers would be sure to have a foothold. The scenes in Athkatla had left a bitter taste in her mouth, but there were other places and other people, and perhaps her work within the Harpers was not over yet. After all, there was still a life to be lived and good to be done.

'My lady?' came a voice below, the woman glancing down to a familiar brown head, 'Ah, forgive me for disturbing you.'

'No matter, Anomen,' she sighed and meant it too –pleasant though her mediations were, company could be a welcome diversion, too, the man taking a step back as she clambered down from her lofty seat to drop neatly before him.

'Do the others want me back at the palace?' she asked –she had visions of Aerie and Imoen already running about in their underwear as they made to change. But Anomen just shook his head.

'Ah, I could not say, my lady, I was actually looking for Fritha. Imoen thought you may have spoken to her this morning -I have not seen her in a while.'

Jaheira bit back a sigh. Anomen was being very good considering how worried he likely was for the girl. Ever since their return, her manner had been distant to say the least and though she did seem to be getting better, the improvements were slow and the feeling that it was mostly for their benefit always lingered behind them.

'Do not fret, Anomen. I saw her at the main gates with Solaufein this morning when I returned from my prayers, but I am afraid we did not speak.'

'They were leaving the city?' he pressed.

'Well, I could not say,' Jaheira shrugged, taking the moment to add, 'they are merely friends, you understand?'

Anomen looked little convinced. 'Yes, my lady.'

A pause between them, Jaheira taking a moment to enjoy the breeze and mend her now fractured inner peace before she deftly changed the subject, a smile softening the words, even as she bemoaned her fate.

'Ah, and there is this celebration tonight. You should have heard the commotion this morning when the dresses arrived -I am surprised you could not hear Imoen's shriek from down the hall.'

Anomen nodded, the slightest quirk to his lips. 'And will my lady be wearing a gown?'

Jaheira sent him a wry smile. 'Thankfully, Ellesime predicted my tastes and arranged alternative attire. And for you, Anomen?'

'I have a tunic –it will serve.'

Jaheira nodded, glancing back to the ever-sinking sun.

'Ah, the day is creeping by. I had better return to the palace -such preparations inevitably take longer than you imagine. Are you coming, Anomen?'

She watched as he, too, gazed up at the sun, though perhaps his eyes saw something else, for he sighed and gave up his search with a final nod.

**…**

Solaufein walked onward, his pace steady and head dipped against the glare of day and people both, his eyes and face inscrutable in the gloom of his hat, the man ignoring the glances and the muttered comments as he made his way through the city. His part in Suldanessellar's liberation was well-known by now, as was his desire to leave the dark ways of his people behind him, and he was not treated badly. But he _was_ an outsider there and the old hatreds ran deep.

The fight had been chaotic, watching half the elves along with Minsc and then Jaheira fall about him, his own life only spared by his intimate knowledge of his people's fighting style. They had survived though, the general leading he and the remaining elves to the battle at the temple where they managed to hold out until the elves' gods were invoked and the drow were, at last, driven back.

And then afterwards, watching as, one by one, the bodies of his, albeit brief, companions were brought to the temple, the priests there bewildered as they informed the Queen nothing could be done, that their spirits could not be called back, for indeed, they had yet to pass over. And there in the temple they had remained for those three long days. He had gone to visit them at least once each day, that group of unfamiliar figures to whom he felt he owed so much, the man lingering at Fritha's side, her face white in death and no more readable than when she had lived.

He had not been so happy in years when he finally received the news that they had awakened. He held quarters in the palace with them now, and though they were far friendlier than the elves, indeed some of them treated him as though they had known him all his life -such open trust as alien as the sun that hung above him- he found himself spending most of his time alone, returning to his old haunts in the forests below, or reading at the temple.

The High Priestess Demin was a knowledgeable woman who knew much of the Seladrine and his own Eilistraee. She had even heard rumours of some colonies of drow such as he to the south, though she could do little more than tell him they were reported to exist –they apparently liked their solitude as much as the elves there did.

'Solaufein.'

He turned at the voice, eyes making out the blurred form of the knight and the druid stood together just before the palace gates.

'Jaheira and Anomen, greetings.'

He could hear rather than see the woman's friendly smile, her common tinged with an accent he was just beginning to hear.

'And to you, Solaufein. Has Fritha returned to the city, also?'

'Fritha?' he repeated, surprised they were asking him, for the girl favoured no company of late. She was another one in exile, although it was more of her own doing. He had spoken with her a few times over the last tenday, and though the moments had been brief, they had eased his time there nonetheless.

'I did not realise she had left,' he offered honestly. 'I saw her at the city gates this morning on my way to the temple –she had been out in the forests on her own business and we stopped to talk a while. She said she was going to return here.'

Jaheira glanced to the man at her side. 'I assume you tried her room.'

Anomen nodded, looking suddenly defeated as he confessed heavily,

'The door was locked. I knocked, but there was no answer.'

**…**

Fritha stood before the mirror, the sounds of talk and laughter drifting up from the garden outside. Her window faced westwards and her room was cast somnolent gold in the sinking sun, the warm light falling across the silken scarlet folds of the dress she now wore.

It had been a tenday since she had risen again in the temple, alive and as whole as she had even been, and the cruel, pitiless joke of it all was, Fritha did not feel better for this miracle –she felt much, _much_ worse.

And so lonely now without the voice, and so empty without the reassuring stir of the essence in her stomach. Her soul was returned and with it had come the emotions she had lost, and the memories of all she had done and said were suddenly pressing themselves upon her heart, hungry for their share of the sickening guilt that now hung inside, the only thing to fill the void that persisted within her.

She knew the others had forgiven her, did not even blame her, but awful as it felt, she hardly even cared what they thought. It was _she_ who had murdered and deceived and revel in spite. How very easy it would have been to blame it on the essence, but she knew in her heart that at least a part of it had just been her and her utter hatred of that life, which seemingly gave joys only to accentuate the miseries, and it was a feeling now not so easily shaken just because she had been given this reprieve.

Fritha shifted back, the gentle susurrus of her skirts warning of the creases it would leave as she slumped down on to the bed behind. She had heard the knock earlier, Anomen's gentle call through the wood, but she had ignored it. She found it so hard to be around them now, to summon that smile and join that talk, all the while remembering the things she had said to them –worst still, the things she had _felt_.

Company of any sort was just another torture and she spent the majority of her time alone, walking about the city or forests, or just shut up in her room, dozing the days away. She would cry sometimes too, but even that had lost its ability to heal; the once cathartic release now just felt endless, and she found she would only stop weeping when she was too tired even for that.

Fritha sighed. She would be at this gathering soon, a whole evening of music and laughter stretching before her. Ellesime had told them all they would always have a place at the city, but life at the palace was more torment than respite, with its stifling press of people who all want to talk and smile and pull at her with their eyes. Perhaps she could ask the Queen for somewhere else, far on the other side of the city where she could make her home. And then what? Live out the rest of her days there? Return to Athkatla or the Gate? She just did not know anymore…

Fritha gazed at the girl opposite, sallow in the fading sunlight, her hair a fiery mess of curls that had not seen a comb in days. The clinging silk was almost glowing in the light, the vivid red of fresh blood.

Perhaps that was why Ellesime had chosen it…

A knock at the door behind her. Fritha drew a deep breath and steeled herself for the long evening ahead.

xxx

She thought the celebrations Ellesime had planned would be impressive, but she had no idea. Fritha halted on the steps looking down in to the palace's great hall with a growing sense of reluctance. Scores of guests were already milling about that large room, some engaged in friendly talk, while others were dancing to the light, lilting music which was thrumming from the small band of flutes and violins. The room was a beautiful enough space in itself with its smooth, wooden columns that meandered up like polished branches to the high, vaulted ceiling, half the roof open to the canopy above, the boughs strung with lights that glowed softly in the dusk, while opposite, the large doors were propped open on the garden beyond.

A gasp behind her, and Fritha turned to see Aerie and Imoen enter as well, the former all in yellow while the latter was dressed in a gown of green that matched her eyes, the girl's lamentations that it was not pink finally silenced when they first met with the men and Valygar had grudgingly mentioned that she looked 'nice'.

'Fritha, it's…' Imoen breathed, momentarily lost for words until her excitement got the better of her. 'Come on!' she cried, grabbing her hand to lead both she and Aerie into the throng. Fritha resisted a moment, suddenly wishing she were back in her room, but a glance from Jaheira, and she remembered herself, following Imoen into the crowds, the others trailing behind them.

Ellesime spotted their group almost immediately, the woman resplendent in pale blue, crowned only by the glory of that rich gold mane as she glided over to bid them welcome.

'Friends, I am so glad you are here, sharing our happiness and our gratitude.'

Fritha said nothing -she let others do the talking nowadays, a task made all the easier with certain people in her company, Imoen chattering ten to the dozen about the room and dresses and music before she and Aerie went off to dance, Haer'Dalis collaring a disinclined Solaufein to serve her friend as partner.

'So,' continued the Queen politely to the company that was left, 'you have been comfortable in your residence at the palace? I fear with the restoration of the city underway, I have not been the best of hostesses.'

'Quite comfortable, your Majesty,' Jaheira answered for them, 'your city is very beautiful, as are its surroundings.'

'Yes, I had heard from the servants you are often out in the forests; I am glad you share our pleasure in them. And your friends?'

'Your city is very beautiful,' echoed Fritha. She and Ellesime had not again spoken of what had passed between them in the Tree. There had been no need; each knew how the other felt.

'I am glad you find it so. And,' the Queen continued, turning to the three men behind her, 'I hear the more martial of your company have been finding their diversions elsewhere about the city- I will speak with my brother, Elhan, if you wish it –Many patrols leave the city each day, on the watch against further drow attacks, and I would not have you bored during your stay here. Ah, there is my brother now- Elhan.'

The prince approached at his sister's call, General Sovalidaas and a few other courtiers with him, the queen making the introductions and Fritha let her attention drift as the conversation continued on, trying to enjoy the surroundings though she never quite managed it before an introduction to some new courtier or sage would pull her back, and she would have to smile and nod, making the expected conversation, her insides squirming with the deceit of it.

'Fritha.'

She started from another dream, turning back at the voice to see Imoen tripping towards them, the fluid, green gown swirling about her feet pleasantly as she moved.

'Hello, Imoen.'

'Oh, _hello_, is it?' the girl laughed, 'Gods, you're so proper nowadays. Fritha, this is Leidril.' A young man with long dark red hair that put her in mind of Khalid stepped from behind the girl, Fritha letting him take her hand as he dipped his head in a bow.

'It is a pleasure to finally meet the one of whom I have heard so much.'

Imoen was grinning, barely letting him finish to cheerfully offer, 'Leidril was one of the elves who kept Solaufein company while we were off in Athkatla.'

Was that kept company or kept an eye on? Fritha glanced over to the group Imoen had just left, the drow looking no more relaxed in that band of smiling men than he did anywhere else, though perhaps that said little.

'Why not come and talk with us for a bit,' Imoen continued, the gentle tug at her wide, scarlet sleeve putting an affectionate insistence behind the offer. Fritha swallowed and summoned a smile.

**…**

'So, Fritha,' began Aust, now the introductions were out of the way, the young elf looking rather arrogant as he arched a pale blond eyebrow to her, 'Imoen was telling us you are both from the library fortress of Candlekeep.'

'Yes,' answered Fritha, Imoen waiting a beat for anything more, before plunging on with her own expansion.

'Yes, that's us, the Belles of Candlekeep -not that anyone there would have noticed it. Half the monks were so caught up in their precious tomes, I doubt they even noticed we were girls.'

Laughter all around, Imoen basking in its warmth, Fritha wincing in the glare.

'Your friend is very quiet,' offered a tall elf of who's name Fritha had not quite caught.

Leidril sent her friend a grin. 'Perhaps she feels Imoen talks enough for them both.'

Imoen just snorted. 'Nah, Fritha's just given up trying to get a word in.'

More laughter. Fritha caught Solaufein's eye and tried a smile, the pair of them adrift in such merriment.

'Ah, the human girls are always such fun,' sighed the dark-haired Evarren, glancing to her to hastily add, 'oh, and the half-humans, too.'

'And so exotic to look upon,' agreed Aust, and Fritha wondered if he regarded his own reflection so critically, 'though you likely think the same of us, yes?'

Imoen gave a rather insulting snort of laughter. 'Oh, you're not so rare! There are plenty of elves in the Gate, and Athkatla, too, from what I could see –though perhaps you would not be allowed that far from the city without your mother's permission.'

Everyone laughed then, even Solaufein, though Aust's looked a little more grudgingly given, Imoen whipping round as the familiar strains of a bransle filled the room.

'Oh, I love this song. Do you remember, Fritha? It was so popular in the Gate when we were there.'

'I remember.'

'Would you like to dance?' asked Evarren promptly, Fritha drawing back from the hand he proffered.

'Ah, not-'

'Course we would,' laughed Imoen, an arm already linked through Leidril's, 'Come on, Fritha.'

The elves were light on their feet, even through the most complicated series of steps, which unfortunately left many chances for conversation, the three men she danced with all talking at her and asking her questions, while she would smile and demur and wonder when everything had had to become an act. She felt very self-conscious, too, in a way she did not ever recall feeling before, at least not dancing, as though all eyes in that grand room were fixed upon her, silently judging: Fritha the saviour; Fritha the godchild; Fritha the _Bhaalspawn_.

She finished the dance in the customary curtsey, Leidril still holding her hand as the band began their next, one pointed ear cocked to the music.

'Ah, I believe this is another popular one from the northern lands; would you like to stay for another round?'

'Ah, no thank you, I'm a little tired.'

It was not so much of a lie –she felt exhausted just drawing breath some days. He conceded with good grace, leading her to where the doors opened on to the gardens before he was distracted by a group of friends on the other side of the hall –leaving her with a promise he would soon return after her refusal to join him.

Fritha let her eyes scan about her. Minsc and Jaheira were nearby, chatting with Aerie and Haer'Dalis -Solaufein, Valygar and Anomen being similarly engaged with Elhan and Sovalidaas, and she could not see Imoen, though the girl was likely on the floor. A gentle breeze stirred her hair, cool with the promise of rain.

Perhaps she could just go outside, just for a moment…

The evening air was fresh and pleasant, the celebration behind her becoming an ever-fainter murmur as she moved through the gardens, pushing through the foliage to finally find the platform's edge and sitting down, her legs under the balustrade and dangling leagues above the forest floor. Fritha leant her face against the railings and breathed a deep sigh, the lush scent of the surrounding gardens filling her as she watched the trees sway in the half-light. There was a time, long past now, when she would sit high up and just watch the trees: Candlekeep.

Back then, it had felt like it would be her home forever, but then Gorion had died… Perhaps _he _had been her home, if such a thing were possible. It was certainly true that she hadn't felt the same in Candlekeep or anywhere else after he'd gone.

She did not know how long she sat there, but her skin was cold when a rustle behind stirred her from her thoughts. She already knew who it would be, the girl straightening to greet him.

'Hello, Anomen.'

He coughed self-consciously, pushing through the ferns to sit down as she had, staring out into the trees.

'So you are here.'

'Yes,' she answered, nothing more to say on the matter.

'I was looking for you today,' he continued with a deliberate nonchalance, 'I knocked on your door after noon, but there was no answer.'

'I must have been sleeping.'

A long pause between them -they both knew she was lying, but perhaps that told Anomen enough in itself, the man finally turning to her to ask, 'Fritha, why did you leave tonight?'

Fritha shrugged, something about the open intensity of his face forcing the honesty from her, the words bobbing painfully against the sudden lump in her throat.

'I don't know… I used to find it so effortless, but now- These people, all talking and laughing, expecting a reply, trying to draw it from me with their insistent smiles- it is just so _hard…_' Fritha's voice faltered, the girl fighting against the rising emotions and, in that moment, her heart ached and she just wished that Anomen would go and leave her alone once more.

'Fritha-'

She could not let him finish the reassurance –one person in that city _had_ to understand!

'You don't- When my soul was first taken, I felt empty, as though a great void had opened inside my heart -like I was just…just a shell. I thought it was just the space left by my soul, but now it's back and nothing has changed. There is… nothing.'

Anomen sighed. His face seemed older in the twilight, every line heavy with shadow. 'Fritha, I know it seems difficult now, but it will get easier in time.'

'But it will never be as it was, will it?'

He had no reply to that and she turned from him, staring out into the dark forest as though some answer lay hidden within it.

'Here you are, Fritha!'

The pair whipped back at the voice, Imoen stood there with Valygar and looking as though he had not just offered his arm for politeness's sake, girl leaning into him, bright-eyed and grinning with wine.

'Fritha, why d'you leave? There are still _loads_ of boys who want to dance with you. And Haer'Dalis's even managed to get Jaheira on the floor!'

Fritha forced a smile, using the railings above to heave herself to her feet. 'Ah, well, I can't miss that, then.'

'You coming, Anomen?' prompted Imoen, when he made no move to rise as well. He shook his head.

'No, thank you, my lady, I think I shall stay here a little longer.'

And Anomen watched her friend lead her away, before turning back to the forest, looking for answers of his own.


End file.
